Deep Fried Kool-Aid

Many years ago, I decided that Kool-Aid would be my happy thought. You know, when someone says,"Think happy thoughts!" Kool-Aid is not really my happiest thought, it's just a brightly colored, sweet, childish object that I randomly picked so I wouldn't struggle with finding a thought or image to conjure when given the directive to think happy thoughts. (I swear I did not make that nonsense up just to intro this post.)

As it turns out, Kool-Aid is not always so happy when it is not used as intended. I'm looking at you Kool-Aid pickles, and, now, deep fried Kool-Aid.Deep fried Kool-Aid is the latest fatty, fried monstrosity to tour the festival circuit, alongside deep fried butter, deep fried Snickers, deep fried Oreos, and, well, deep fried just about any thing.

I know what you're thinking: "How do they fry liquid?"

They don't. Deep fried Kool-Aid is nothing more than dough made with Kool-Aid, then fried.

And it tastes just like fried dough made with Kool-Aid. A Kool-Aid doughnut? The artificial cherry Kool-Aid flavor is prominent, but trust me (and the body-by-fried-food man standing next to me who was holding back tears while trying to choke down his basket of deep fried Kool-Aid), go ahead and skip this at the fair. If you must try it, think happy thoughts!

Kool-Aid Pickles

While I was away recently, I left a food experiment in my refrigerator. No, not your usual what-molded-while-I-was-away experiment. I read an article in the New York Times about a food craze that’s getting the kids down South and in other locations excited – Kool-Aid pickles! - so gave it a go.

Apparently, Mom and Pop owned convenience stores and neighborhood entrepreneurs are selling dill pickles pickled once more in Kool-Aid. It sounds gross, but Kool-Aid pickles can’t be any worse than the pink pickled pig’s feet and pink pickled eggs in those large plastic jars sitting by the register at convenience stores that we used to dare each other to eat when I was young. (No one dared touch the pig’s feet, but a few brave souls tried the pickled eggs. No one went back for seconds.)

I made a double strength batch of cherry (red) and tropical punch (blue) Kool-Aid. I drained the dill pickles, and poked the pickles with a fork about 15 times to let the Kool-Aid seep into the pickle. I then left the pickles swimming in the double strength Kool-Aid in my refrigerator for a little over a week.

When I returned home from my trip, I peeked in on the little cukes. They were not evenly dyed by the Kool-Aid, but it was time for the moment of truth. Were these kids on to something? Or were they taste bud-challenged?

I bit into a cherry Kool-Aid pickle first. Not horrible. It tasted like cherry Kool-Aid and a dill pickle. (Sorry, there’s just no other way to describe it.) The second and third bites, though, made me a little nauseous. Oh, this is so wrong! Pregnant women couldn’t even crave something like this.

Next up were the tropical punch pickles. These I liked better. The tropical punch Kool-Aid complimented the dill pickle better than the cherry Kool-Aid. (Never thought I'd say that sentence.) The tropical punch pickles tasted more like a pickle than Kool-Aid, which is why I could actually finish a blue pickle without feeling ill.

Conclusion – These kids is Ka-ray-zee! Or maybe I fugged up the experiment somehow. I doubt it.