My editors asked me not to do this. They really did. All of them. They knew their efforts would be in vain, though, because they know me. They knew once the thought entered my mind there was no stopping me. I was going to try eating the entire Taco Bell Mountain Dew Baja Blast Pie in a single sitting. Why? I’d like to be pithy or irreverent right now, but I just finished my attempt 15 minutes ago. I’m not feeling very pithy or irreverent at the moment. Nor do I feel very smart. The only thing I feel is a belly full of creamy, citrus, neon teal pie filling and regret. A lot of both.
But am I full of regrets because I succeeded or because I failed? Dear reader, those turned out to be the same thing when it comes to the Taco Bell Baja Blast Pie.
This unnatural neon color is brighter/worse in person.
What Does the Taco Bell Mountain Dew Baja Blast Pie Taste Like?
Taco Bell says its weird little treat turns the “legendary Tropical Lime flavor of Baja Blast into a creamy, key lime–style dessert, featuring a graham crumb crust and topped with whipped cream.” I think the Taco Bell Baja Blast Pie tastes like an overly sweet, totally unidentifiable citrus pudding tossed into a crust. It isn’t especially lime-y. I didn’t think it tastes like its soda of origin either. Taco Bell’s Baja Blast pie has only one flavor: citrus. Generic citrus.
The Consistency of the Baja Blast Pie Made It Taste Worse
The Taco Bell Baja Blast pie would be a little better if not for the fact that it is way, way, way too creamy when fully defrosted. I would have loved for it to have a key lime pie consistency. Instead, it was like a pudding made with too much milk. It’s almost soupy. If you try it yourself, I recommend serving it at least partially frozen.
Is the Taco Bell Baja Blast Pie Any Good?
Most importantly, the Mountain Dew Baja Blast Pie is not very good. It’s not gross or inedible. I’ve certainly had much worse foods. But there’s no way to say the Baja Blast Pie is objectively good. Not because I ate so much of it, either. I felt the same way at the start as I did when I stopped. That’s because this dessert is one strange, flat note. Mushy bite after mushy bite. There’s no depth to this flavor. I wouldn’t have made it past a single slice—which I couldn’t actually cut because it’s too soupy, which is why I ate the entire thing out of the tin—if not for the whipped cream. That was genuinely good.
The Taco Bell Mountain Dew Baja Blast Pie does have something going for it over its liquid counterpart, though. It, somehow, tastes less synthetic. Why? I can’t even begin to guess. Not when I have to relay the experience of trying to eat the whole thing.
Did Mikey Really Eat An Entire Taco Bell Mountain Dew Baja Blast Pie In One Sitting?
The more you look at the color of this pie the less you see the face of God.
Halfway through the pie, I wanted to quit. I was not having a good time. It wasn’t fun to eat a single serving, let alone multiple pieces. The consistency makes for an unpleasant chewing experience. The flavor of the Taco Bell Baja Blast pie is too sweet and strange to eat a lot of this. And I promise, half of this pie is way too much.
I kept going. I tried to go fast thinking it would help. Wrooooong. Like a big dodo, I didn’t even have a glass of water with me to try and help me get through it. Maybe I subconsciously wanted to keep this as pure as possible and any other food or beverage would have runed that?
…..No. I’m just sort of dumb. Obviously.
With 25% of the Taco Bell Baja Blast pie left I didn’t think I could do it. I certainly didn’t want to. Besides, wouldn’t failing be just as interesting as succeeding? I also kept thinking about how I was going to feel for the next 48 hours, the part of this process I won’t be putting in print for everyone to read about.
Then I kept going. It. Was. A. Struggle. I tried to once again power through quickly, but with about three bites left I hit a road block. I was starting to feel nauseous from all the sugar. (How much sugar is in this pie? At no point did I look at its nutritional value, lest it stop me dead in my tracks. I don’t plan to ever look now.)
I didn’t count, but it felt like this pie requires roughly 5,000 bites to finish alone.
Three bites. That’s all that stood between me and….whatever was on the other side of this.
Then two bites.
One.
Zero.
I ate the whole Taco Bell Mountain Dew Baja Blast pie in a single sitting.
A tin of nothing, yet it represents so much regret.
From start to finish, it took me almost exactly 15 minutes and 30 seconds.
Part of that time was dedicated to documenting this whole thing with photos and videos, but that didn’t technically slow me down. Had I not been doing this for work, I never would have done it at all. Even if I had tried for personal reasons, I never would have finished. I would have quit before I finished one goopy piece. Documenting the whole thing made it possible to accomplish this absurd goal.
Don’t I look thrilled with my success?
I wish it hadn’t. I wish I hadn’t finished the Taco Bell Mountain Dew Baja Blast pie. Any of it. I’m full of so much regret because I’m full more teal pudding pie filling than any human should ever consume in a single lifetime.
My editors were right. I knew they would be. My suggestion is that you should learn from my mistake and listen to them. But if, for some reasons, this has somehow convinced you to try the Taco Bell Mountain Dew Baja Blast pie anyway, at least don’t do it alone. Or in one sitting. And definitely not both.
Mikey Walsh is a staff writer at Nerdist. Don’t ask him how he’s feeling after eating the whole Baja Blast pie. Just assume “not well.” You can follow him on Bluesky at @burgermike. And also anywhere someone is ranking the Targaryen kings.
