Atomic Slush Review: The Wisconsin State Fair's Crime Against Beverages

I'm going to start this review off by saying I'm a huge fan of spicy food and believe I have built up a reasonably high tolerance for it. Give me all the wings, salsas, stir-fries, and hot sauce-infused dishes, and I will sincerely be one happy gal. Every once in a while, I'll even treat myself to an extra spicy Bloody Mary or a jalapeño margarita. I love the thrill of eating food — and sipping on libations — with a kick. All that being said, there is absolutely no reason a beverage should be as blazingly hot as the slushie I was admittedly foolish enough to try at the Wisconsin State Fair.

Behold — the Atomic Slush! Claiming to be the "world's hottest slush," this not-at-all-refreshing drink is made with cinnamon and Carolina Reaper powder. It's then adorned with a spurt of whipped cream, a drizzle of spicy caramel sauce, and flakes of crushed cinnamon candy.

The Atomic Slush is the brainchild of Exotic Meat Grill, a vendor that serves arguably the most divisive and uncommon — for Wisconsin, at least — menu items at the fair. These include bug chow mein (featuring ants, crickets, and worms), camel chili cheese fries, smoked gator legs, and deep-fried alligator bites. Let's just say this food truck accomplishes its mission when it comes to rustling up recipes that may shock fairgoers more used to typical Midwestern cuisine. And, at the risk of sounding melodramatic, I'm likely going to have nightmares about its Atomic Slush for years to come.

The Atomic Slush is obnoxiously hot

Listen, I totally understand that the majority of state fair foods are designed for novelty purposes. I'm not exactly sure who would go out of their way to wolf down a dill pickle donut or Flamin' Hot Cheetos chocolate bark on a normal day, but hey — to each their own. However, the Atomic Slush is a prime example of a creation that is downright wicked.

While I was standing in line with my pals (i.e., moral support system), there were a couple of people ahead of us who confidently ordered the Atomic Slush. The person working there was hyping it up quite a bit, even saying to one customer that it was "really f***ing good," which made me think it wasn't going to be all that spicy; in retrospect, that employee may have been the culprit behind this concoction.

When I was handed my slushie, which put me back a whopping $10 for a 12-ounce cup, I immediately got a whiff of its bright red cinnamon candies. The presentation and aroma were surprisingly pleasant. I love cinnamon-flavored candy and was truly hoping the profile would be more cinnamon-forward, based on the fragrance. Gadzooks, was I incorrect! Upon my first sip, its cinnamon notes lasted a few seconds, and then, BAM! My entire mouth — from the tip of my tongue to my uvula — was sucker punched by the Carolina Reaper seasoning. My friends witnessed me wince in discomfort before I curiously (read: regrettably) took another swig.

Carolina Reaper is not for the faint of heart

After five skeptic sips, I simply couldn't handle the pungency any longer. Not only did my throat feel like it was on fire, but the taste was incredibly off-putting and, frankly, disgusting. The slushie had no cooling sensation whatsoever, and the heat was an absolute mind warp. Thankfully, the whipped cream topping helped cool me off as I used my straw like a makeshift spoon. One friend half-jokingly asked if I wanted a beverage from a nearby dairy stand, which actually would likely have aided in easing my pain (drinking milk really does help with spicy food, after all). Instead, I opted for a palate-soothing, ice-cold beer, and the bartender hilariously offered to toss the monstrosity for me once I described it to them.

The flavor of the Atomic Slush can only be properly described as crystallized hot sauce made from one of the world's hottest peppers. The Carolina Reaper has been glorified by spice fiends for its astronomical Scoville Scale rating, which can reach up to 2,200,000 SHU. I've enjoyed plenty of Carolina Reaper sauces and salsas in my day, but the act of drinking the pepper's essence rather than consuming it with food is an entirely different experience.

Of course, I didn't enter the fairgrounds thinking I would encounter many things that were remotely ordinary (by the standards of America's Dairyland, that is). After all, it's tradition to defy tradition at this annual festival. But if you attend the Wisconsin State Fair and somehow feel compelled to try the new Atomic Slush, consider my tale a warning.