Ranking the 7 Mountain Dew Soda Flavors from Worst to Best

Few soda brands have earned quite the same level of recognition as Mountain Dew. This fluorescent yellow-green beverage can be found in grocery and convenience stores across the country. While it’s long been associated with Appalachian communities, it’s also associated with gamers, Taco Bell, and more. In an effort to revitalize its brand identity, its parent company, PepsiCo, gave Mountain Dew a revamp — including dropping its abbreviated name, “Mtn Dew,” which it started using in 2009. The cans abandoned the angular green font in favor of a vintage, outdoorsy, and youthful label — likely in hopes of capturing a new generation of drinkers. And today, I’m considering myself to be a member of that “new audience.”

Prior to this review, I had never picked up a bottle or can of Mountain Dew. I’m a Diet Coke girlie through and through, and I don’t generally enjoy super-sweet beverages. That lack of flavor loyalty made me the perfect candidate to taste and rank as many varieties of Mountain Dew as I could find at my local Walmart. I tasted each flavor cold — straight from the fridge — and judged them based on their overall enjoyability, flavor balance, and refreshment before ranking them from worst to best. I focused this ranking on the original Mountain Dew flavors and excluded cans from the popular Kickstart collection. 

Spoiler alert: A lot of this ranking falls under the category of “It can’t get worse than this … right?” — only for it to somehow get worse than I ever imagined. That’s exactly what happened with this zero-sugar Baja Blast, which I tried after the flavor that landed (barely) above it. My expectations were already in the gutter, and this zero-sugar spinoff of the beloved Mountain Dew flavor only managed to disappoint me even more. 

The color of this diet soda was noticeably different from the regular Baja Blast, which didn’t tell me much about the flavor that was to come — other than confirming it wouldn’t taste the same. It had the same tropical-esque aroma of nearly every other Mountain Dew I tried; there was nothing punchy or noteworthy to make it stand out. When I finally took a sip, there was only one thing I could taste. No Baja. No Blast. Just artificial sweeteners as far as the eye (taste buds) could see (tell). 

I don’t like eating Splenda packets for fun, so it’s fair to say that I didn’t enjoy this soda in any capacity. It had many of the same flaws as the flavor that ranked slightly above it, but its mouthfeel was somehow even sweeter and more concentrated – a feat I honestly didn’t think was possible. It didn’t have any redeeming qualities to set it apart from the lineup of other Mountain Dew flavors. I felt a headache brewing after a couple of sips, further cementing its spot on the bottom of this list.

The only thing that scared me more than the original Mountain Dew was its diet counterpart. It didn’t rank well on our ranking of popular diet sodas, mainly because the reviewer found that its flavor wasn’t strong enough to warrant sipping. But in my opinion, the problem wasn’t that the soda lacked flavor — it was that it was way too much of the wrong one.

This diet soda tastes like I just ate a packet of aspartame and chased it with Splenda. And that says a lot — considering that I don’t usually mind the taste of diet sodas. Any trace of citrus was lost under an avalanche of artificial sweeteners. My taste buds were ambushed by the chemical sweetness of aspartame and sucralose, only for those same ingredients to double-back and annihilate them yet again — this time with bitterness. I almost winced as I swallowed, which is not something I’ve ever done while drinking soda. I thought the regular Mountain Dew tasted like chemicals, but its diet version exists on an entirely different plane. 

After I finished one swig (which was more than enough), I racked my brain trying to think of ways to make this soda more palatable. Is there a way to hide the one-two punch of sweetness and bitterness with some sort of other ingredient? In the end, I came to the conclusion that any effort would be futile. Nothing can save this diet soda from its awful, overwhelming flavor. 

When I took a whiff of this soda, there was only one thing that came to mind: Tang. The smell is permanently etched into my nostrils after several years spent at summer camp scooping the neon-orange powder into 10-gallon water jugs — so I know it when I smell it. The borderline-caustic aroma of this zero-sugar Baja Cabo Citrus sent off alarm bells in my brain, but I pressed on in the name of science — and for you, dear reader. 

I’ll start with the good (or at least, the not-awful): This soda wasn’t as bad as the two other zero-sugar Mountain Dew flavors I tried, mainly because it actually had some flavor other than just “sickeningly and artificially sweet.” The orange notes were by no means authentic — clearly concocted in a lab rather than an orange grove — but they at least offered some distraction from the cloying sweetness. In fact, I would say that this Baja Cabo Citrus is the orange equivalent of Code Red. Though PepsiCo was a little more heavy-handed with the orange flavor here than in Code Red. 

I found myself wishing I could taste it without the artificial sweeteners, as I think it could actually give off a decent, if not pleasant, tropical vibe. However, the artificial sweeteners were the nail in the coffin for this flavor. It didn’t have the same bitterness as the lower-ranked Diet Mountain Dew, but it does have a persistent aftertaste that’s eerily similar to the orange-flavored fluoride gel I remember getting smeared on my teeth at the dentist’s office when I was a kid. 

I’ll admit, the color of the original Mountain Dew was a little foreboding. It almost looks like the stuff you would find in a vial in an old-timey laboratory. Frankly, it looks more like a chemical than a soda. 

The sugar content of this soda is no joke, and I honestly don’t think that anything could have prepared me for the sweetness that was to come. For reference, one 12-ounce can of the original flavor has 46 grams of sugar — more than Coca-Cola or Pepsi. I didn’t consider nutrition when deciding how to rank these sodas, but I did consider flavor balance — and it’s clear the sweetness of the original Mountain Dew didn’t do it any favors. The first thing I noticed was the aroma: an intense lime scent that didn’t smell like anything remotely natural. In fact, this drink even smelled sweet, which I didn’t think was possible.

Compared to other lemon-lime soda brands, Mountain Dew packs in more citrusy flavor; the lime notes hit my tongue first, followed by a cloying sweetness. I’ve become accustomed to Sprite’s level of lemon-lime-ness, but this was far more intense. That citrusy flavor lingered on my taste buds and did not let up on the sugariness at all. After a couple of sips, I was left with a lingering, stale aftertaste that was not at all pleasant. It wasn’t as overwhelming as the zero-sugar and diet drinks, but I can’t think of any instance where I would willingly buy this soda again — which is why I put it so low in the ranking. 

I don’t mind cherry-flavored foods; in fact, Haribo’s Happy Cherries are one of my all-time favorite candies. But I understand why people have a deep-seated disgust for all things cherry-flavored. Not everyone enjoys eating or sipping something that tastes like cough syrup. 

If you don’t mind the borderline-medicinal taste that comes with cherry-flavored items, then perhaps you won’t mind this Code Red Mountain Dew. Although its fire engine-red color suggests that it’s going to taste like Luden’s cough drops stirred with Mountain Dew, I found its cherry flavor to be much milder than I expected. Honestly, Cherry Coke packs stronger fruity notes than this Mountain Dew spinoff. Code Reds tastes like a couple of tablespoons of grenadine (which is, surprisingly, not actually cherry-flavored) mixed with a glass of regular Mountain Dew. It kinda gives off Shirley Temple vibes — and I’m not entirely mad about it. 

The dialed-back cherry flavor comes at a cost, though, as the citrusy flavor of the Mountain Dew takes over the entire sip. With a name like “Code Red,” I expected the flavor to be like 75% cherry and 25% citrus — but it tastes like 85% lemon-lime and 15% cherry. It’s good news for folks who don’t love cherry, but it’s a bit of a let-down if you’re hoping for a no-holds-barred cherry soda like I was. I was toying with whether to place Code Red or the original Mountain Dew higher, but ultimately thought the former’s restrained sweetness warranted a higher ranking. 

When I took a whiff of this can, I audibly said, “What in the Crystal Light is this?” Honestly, it reeked of the powdered drink, though its exact aroma was not easily identifiable. The can suggests that the flavor is supposed to be raspberry, but I think you could have told me it was any type of berry and I would have nodded and agreed. After trying so many diet and zero-sugar Mountain Dews in rapid succession before landing on this can, I was happy to have any sort of reprieve from both the overwhelming saccharine flavor and bitterness. 

Berry-flavored things tend to taste medicinal — there’s no way around it. However, I think that this can of Mountain Dew Voltage toes the line between tasting like cough medicine and, dare I say, being slightly refreshing. The berry flavor gives it a cloying aftertaste, sure, but it’s not so horrendous that I felt myself gasping for water to dilute its sweetness. If you don’t mind a berry-flavored drink or frequent the powdered drink mix aisle of your local grocery store, you may even appreciate its flavor. Voltage’s flavor was certainly more defined than the original Mountain Dew, which is why it ranked above the OG, though it lacked the borderline-addictive quality of my top-ranked flavor. I would have also liked to see a greater emphasis on the raspberry notes, rather than general “berry” flavor. Overall, it’s not bad, but it was still too sweet for my liking. 

I’m going to be honest with you: I’ve never had a Baja Blast in any form (nor have I ever been to Taco Bell, but that’s a story for another day). When I looked at the Baja Blast’s label, I saw that it read, “with a blast of natural and artificial tropical lime flavor,” then promptly asked myself, “Do we really need more lime flavor?” The original Mountain Dew was lime-y enough for me. 

When I took a whiff of the bottle, I felt my impression of this beverage slowly morph into something a little more agreeable. It had this fruity, almost-hypnotic elixir quality to it — like it was trying to lull me into sipping it. While I wouldn’t be swayed to buy it based on its packaging alone, if someone bottled that aroma, I would be tempted to try it. Once I took a contemplative sip, I sat back and tried to identify what I was tasting. It certainly wasn’t lime. While some folks have detected flavors like pineapple and mango, I thought it had stronger blueberry notes than anything else. But that fruity undertone was muddled and eventually morphed into a stronger fruit punch flavor the longer you let it linger on your tongue. It’s pleasant by Mountain Dew’s standards, but it’s far from the best soda that’s ever graced my lips. 

This Baja Blast certainly has a jungle juice quality to it — you don’t realize how much you’ve consumed until the bottle is nearly gone. I have no doubt it would be more satisfying in frozen form — and I think it would only amplify its drinkability and hypnotic appeal. 

To ensure that I was getting each of these flavors at their strongest, I sampled them straight from the fridge without any ice on the same day. As I sipped each one, I considered how enjoyable and refreshing it was. Flavors that were overly artificial or sugary (even for a soda) ranked lower than those that were more approachable and enjoyable to drink. 

The flavors also had to represent the, albeit obscure, name on the label. For example, I wanted the Baja Blast to taste somewhat tropical, while the Code Red should have some assemblage of cherry, paired with the classic Mountain Dew flavor. Nutrition was not considered in this ranking.