I swapped coffee for Mormon 'dirty sodas' for a week. The sugar crash was brutal.
My week swapping coffee for viral 'dirty sodas'

Slumped at my desk, rubbing my eyes and watching the clock crawl towards midday, I was already experiencing a profound energy crash. It was only 11am, but the morning felt endless. The culprit? Instead of my usual coffee, I’d started the day with a Dr Pepper mixed with coconut cream and lime juice—a so-called 'dirty soda.'

The Dirty Soda Experiment: A Week Without Coffee

For seven days, I abandoned my one to two daily coffees to immerse myself in the world of 'dirty sodas.' These are sugary soft drinks blended with flavoured creamers, syrups, and fruit, a trend that surged from Utah in the mid-2010s. With a large Mormon population adhering to a health code that forbids coffee and tea but not soda, Utah saw an explosion of soda shops replacing traditional cafes.

The most prominent chain, Swig, was founded in 2010 by a Utah Mormon mother-of-five. It now boasts 143 locations across 16 states, with over 120 in Utah alone. The trend gained further traction from the reality TV show The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives, which debuted last year and sparked a flood of recipes online.

Intrigued, I decided to forgo my daily brew after the show's third season premiere. Living in New York City, miles from the nearest Swig, I crafted my own concoctions using recipes from social media and Swig's website.

A Sugary Onslaught and Relentless Crash

As a decade-long coffee drinker, I wasn't overly concerned about caffeine withdrawal. My anxiety centred on whether the swap would provide enough energy. The figures were revealing: a 12-ounce can of Dr Pepper contains 41mg of caffeine, while eight ounces of coffee packs 80-100mg. Bases like Sprite have none.

What these drinks lack in stimulants, they compensate for with staggering amounts of sugar and calories. Swig's nutritional information shows a 'small' 16-ounce drink can have up to 150 calories, while an 'x-large' 44-ounce serving can reach 500 calories. Many contain a minimum of 35 grams of added sugar—the equivalent of three Krispy Kreme doughnuts. The 'Spice Queen' blend with Coke and pumpkin pie creamer contains a jaw-dropping 190 grams of sugar.

My morning staple was a mix of a mini Dr Pepper can (90 calories, 24g sugar), coconut coffee creamer, and lime juice. With about four tablespoons of creamer, this drink totalled roughly 230 calories and 44 grams of added sugar. In contrast, my usual coffee with creamer is under 100 calories and 10 grams of sugar.

The effects were immediate and debilitating. My diary entries tell the story: 'Wow, my head hurts... Already crashing,' I wrote one Monday morning. By Wednesday, I lamented, 'I am so tired. I miss coffee so much.' I was jittery yet exhausted, struggling to concentrate as the sugar highs and subsequent crashes wreaked havoc.

Glucose Spikes and a Return to Sanity

Wearing a continuous glucose monitor (CGM) confirmed the physiological toll. After a dirty soda, my blood glucose would spike to between 130 and 150 mg/dl (the normal post-meal range is 70-140 mg/dl for a non-diabetic). This was followed by a steep insulin-driven crash, causing fatigue, irritability, and shakiness.

The combination of a mild caffeine deficit and a severe sugar rollercoaster was deeply unpleasant. Taste-wise, the morning drink was akin to carbonated coffee—a concept that should not exist. It offered none of coffee's benefits, just a sugar load linked to tooth decay, diabetes, and obesity.

An evening concoction of Sprite, grenadine, and sugar-free vanilla creamer was more palatable, reminiscent of a creamy Shirley Temple. Yet, with the grenadine and Sprite still contributing over 40 grams of sugar, it was hardly a healthy choice.

By the week's end, having consumed up to 88 grams of added sugar from these drinks alone, my conclusion was clear. While I understand the cultural context that made dirty sodas a Mormon community staple, the physical cost was too high. I emerged from the experiment with a pounding headache, a profound sugar crash, and a renewed loyalty to my simple, sober cup of coffee.