THEREFORE I AM: Buy Mexican Coke for the nostalgic burps

By David Spates / davespates@tds.net

Why do they sell Cokes alongside refried beans? It's not exactly the kind of question that most people think about, but it's just the sort of silliness that keeps me up at night. To be honest, I thought that maybe some people actually cook with Coke, but I don't think that happens even in Tennessee. No, the reason you find bottles of Coke alongside the refried beans at the grocery store is because that Coke is imported. Fancy, shmancy!

I'm sure you've seen them, too. You're at the grocery store playing bumper carts with the other customers. You stroll down the "ethnic food" aisle past the 10-minute couscous, the canned lemongrass soup and the myriad microwavable curry dishes until you reach the Mexican food section. There, just below the Taco Bell refried beans and to the left of the Old El Paso dinner kit, are a few bottles of Coca-Cola.

Did you notice that I said "bottles?" They're not cans of Coke nor are they 2-liter plastic jugs of Coke. These are long-neck, old-school, curvy, glass bottles — the way God intended it. You've heard the phrase "Coke bottle glasses" right? Well, there you go.

If you take a closer look at the writing on the bottle, you'll notice that everything —that is everything except — Coca-Cola — is in Spanish. "Refresco!" This is Coke from and for Mexico, and there's an important distinction between American Coke and Mexican Coke, divine glass bottles notwithstanding.

In a few seconds of Internet research, I learned that in Mexico, Coke is made from real sugar cane, not high-fructose corn syrup like it is here. American Coke had sugar cane back in the day (among other delights), and the reason they stopped using sugar cane depends on whom you ask. Maybe it was simple economics, or perhaps it had something to do with political pressures tied to sugar cane production.

Whatever the reason, I, your humble correspondent with an affinity for all things Coca-Cola, am here to report that there is a definite, palatable difference between Mexican Coke and American Coke.

Before I report my Mexican vs. American Coke findings, I feel I should establish my credentials as a cola authority. There was never much Coke in our house when I was young — too much sugar that would rot out my teeth, Mom would say. Unfortunately for my caloric intake, the "forbidden fruit" aspect of Coke probably fueled my cola desires, because as soon as I was old enough to pedal my bike down to the nearest Kwik-E-Mart, I was getting my own fix. My friend, Chip, and I would return home, each with a 2-liter bottle of Coke, and settle in for a nice long afternoon of playing bootleg video games on my Commodore 64 computer (dude, with a floppy drive!). There we'd swill our Cokes straight from the bottle — at room temperature. We were such addicts that we didn't even bother refrigerating. Obviously these were the days before Dr. Phil interventions.

So that pretty much covered my high school years, secretly hitting my Coke stash as needed. College was worse. I was buying my own groceries. I had my very own mini-fridge. I was in a Coke-head's paradise. I drank Cokes for breakfast, lunch and dinner, gained way too much weight, but I refused to admit I had a problem.

Then one day, as my wife was delicately sipping her Diet Coke (sissy stuff!), I did the math: seven Cokes a day, multiplied by 150 calories per equaled 750 added calories every single day — and that doesn't even count actual, well, you know, FOOD. No wonder I was ballooning up like Woody Woodpecker on Thanksgiving morning.

I have since switched to unsweetened tea for the bulk of my caffeine (that's a whole other issue), and when the cola bug strikes I have a Diet Coke. So while my palate has been subjected to years of zero-calorie artificial sweeteners, I still feel as though I'm experienced enough to render qualified, pertinent insight into Mexican Coke vs. American Coke.

In an effort to make it a fair test, I also bought an American Coke in a glass bottle. American Coke in a glass bottle is still available, but they're not cheap, and you have to search a little longer.

I can pretty well sum up the difference in two words — sweetness and carbonation. (Does "and" count? OK, make that three words.) Mexican Coke is sweeter and slightly less carbonated than American Coke, which seems a touch lighter and substantially fizzier. However, despite a discernible drop in carbonation, the Mexican Coke results in burps that are much more satisfying. Anyone who is old enough to remember the apocalyptic days of the "New Coke" fiasco in the mid-1980s knows a good Coke burp from a bad one. A Mexican Coke gives you a burp like you remember when you were a kid. Am I going too far in using the phrase "nostalgic burp?" Perhaps, but there it is.

So in case you were wondering why there was Coke in the Mexican food section of your local grocer, the burning question has been answered. Despite what I initially and foolishly thought, no one is cooking with it. My advice: Plunk down the $1.60 for a 12-ounce bottle and enjoy. It's overpriced I know, but the burps alone are worth it.

David Spates is a Knoxville resident and Crossville Chronicle contributor whose column is published each Tuesday.

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