Jarritos Tamarind | Tiny Jars of Euphoria

On a train ride through the Yucatán peninsula this spring, a team of scientists and I found a mysterious straw bag hiding in a storage compartment. We opened it to find not potatoes, but dozens upon dozens of ripe tamarinds. Having gone through weeks of voluntary starvation, we proceeded to eat the contents in a matter of minutes. When Lairy tossed the empty sack out the window, my environmental convictions went aflutter. Also, was it me, or were we hearing the sound of glass breaking? I adjusted my "'nocs," and peeked out the window. There it was. A bottle of Jarritos Tamarindo: Refresco Sabor Natural laying on the track. Helpless, shattered and fizzing. Surely it would be a few hours before our next bathroom break, and I could only hope to find another one then. I sunk into my seat, tearfully remembering the delightful taste from years ago. Oh, how it felt "my first time"! ...

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Tamarinds are tropical trees native to Africa, and now, thanks to their seeds being scattered throughout the world, they've gained popularity in various regions in Mexico and India. The pulp is valued for its sour and acidic—and at the right stage sweet—flavor**. The soda peeps have mimicked it pretty well, as far as I can tell. The aftertaste, however, reminds me more of the favorite lip balm worn by my first wife. It's a memory only enveloping me in yet more sadness.

Mexico's first national soft drink brand has been goin' strong, as they say, for nearly 60 years

now. The great Don Francisco Hill (a.k.a. “El Güero”†) named the drink as a nod to the clay pottery jugs, called jarritos, that helped keep coffee and other drinks fresh. I was lucky enough to be one of Don's original test subjects, back before I earned my fortune. During these humble times I had vowed to never again find myself a participant in the illegal arms trade, but still needed easy money to get me a ticket back to the States after my banishment (some involvement in a barfight preluded this, where I seriously injured a team of five or six Hell's Angels.. we won't go into it here).

You can find individual bottles of Jarritos at Latin Merchant.

*Note: It should not be confused with Barrilitos, also from Mexico, which is waiting in the fridge for future review.
**Speaking of flavors, look at all these! How will I ever get to them all?

†Not a joke.

Weis Up! and The Awful Salesperson Who Should

Quick story. An unusually disturbingly outrageously wrong thing happened while buying this drink. At Sodamania/Subs-N-Such (the place I've already plugged twice, and was planning on remaining complete loyal to for eternity), I went to the counter to purchase this funny little can.  the guy told me the Weis Up! would be 81 cents. As I handed him a ten I watched as he handed back four dollars and some change. I said, "How much was that again?" and kindly explained he must've forgotten to throw a five in there with all the ones. He looked at me like I was an idiot, told me I should check my pockets better because he definitely gave me a five, and then made me wait- embarassed, people were looking, waiting- while he kicked his feet around, whispering something to the (presumed) manager about whatever stunt he believed I was trying to pull. He eventually forked over the rest of my change as I held my tongue. It was a tense situation. Quite the Larry David moment, I must say, as I almost told the guy, "Yeah, that's what I do. I go into stores for a drink every **ing day and try accusing salespeople of giving back incorrect change." Sigh.

Oh well. I'll still be returning there, because a) I have no choice, the place is an incredibly convenient source for my "research," b) this guy probably just has a mean-spirited soul and the rest of the staff (who have always seemed plenty friendly thus far) have to fight back the impulse to kick his ass daily also, and c) though implausible, the drink might be cursed*.

But ANYWAY.. on to the soda itself..
Weis Up! was created by Weis Choice, a division of (to my surprise) Weis Markets, based in Sunbury, Pennsylvania. We've all seen this sort of thing: a supermarket making generic sodas and foods under their private label. I mean, anyone who's ever thrown a BBQ party knows purchasing these fakeys is the only thrifty way to keep a cooler stocked. But how their lemon-lime soda ended up in a store's tiny cooler all the way down in Tampa Bay puzzles me. I would've stuck around and gathered information had I not been so angry at the aforementioned employee. Though direct comparisons to 7 Up are inevitable, the light drink seems more in line with Sprite. Whichever of the two it more resembles, one thing's for certain: unlike many predecessors, Weis Up! doesn't taste over-sweetened, probably due in part to the natural lemon and lime flavors (the soda still does have 38g of sugar). No unbearable aftertaste, either.

To my knowledge, Weis Choice colas can't be found on the internet. My advice is to decide how much drinking this product means to you, and remember if need be you can always find a lovely place of residence in the northeast. 

(*Implausible indeed. The rest of my day ended up alright.)