Speaker 1: Not long ago, Susan Orlean was on a program reading an obituary, and it was for a tiger. Her essay was published in her column afterward, where she pays tribute to recently departed people, animals, and even sometimes things. We're featuring some of those pieces on the program as we head toward the end of the year, and here's Susan Orlean.
Susan Orlean: There was much rendering of garments and high-pitched wailing at the news that Choco Taco was no more.
[music]
Susan: The frozen novelty, vanilla ice cream, peanuts, fudge, and milk chocolate, conveyed in a taco-shaped cone, was killed off when its manufacturer, Unilever, decided to simplify its product line. The announcement was cool and clinical, owing to supply-chain challenges and a "unprecedented spike in demand" for its offerings. Unilever was discontinuing a few items so that it could marshal its manufacturing efforts on a smaller set of tasty Klondike treats.
Alas, the world of junk food is cruel. One day, you're enjoying your Trolli Road Kill Gummi Candy or your Wonka Oompas or your Altoid Sours or your Doritos Guacamole. Not just enjoying but developing a specific urgent craving for them. The next day, without so much as a fare-thee-well, they're gone.
Sometimes the product is a commercial bomb, and its termination is hardly a surprise. Here's to you, McAfrika, Coca-Cola Blak, Cheetos Lip Balm, Ore-Ida Funky Fries. Sometimes, in the grocery business for example, it's more a matter of product overpopulation. This is often the case with Trader Joe's, which is famous for having products materialize and dematerialize constantly.
Unlike Unilever, which didn't flinch when issuing the death notice for Choco Tacos, Trader Joe's acknowledges the pain one might experience when discovering that Chili Lime Mayonnaise has left this realm, writing, "We understand that it can be disappointing, devastating even. We are Trader Joe's customers too after all." It is elemental in the human condition to rail against the indignity of mortality. Although we have always raged against the dying of the light, perhaps during these feel-bad times, losing a simple delight feels especially unsettling.
[music]
Susan: Take for instance, the case of Costco's Combo Pizza, a nearly 700 calorie per slice, pepperoni, sausage, green pepper, onion, and black olive concoction. That was a favorite in the chain's food courts for many years. In 2020, Costco, determining that its menu needed to be streamlined, quietly sent the Combo Pizza to its grave. Social media was aflame with outrage.
Believing there was a chance to roll away the stone, an individual calling herself Tobi O. started a petition on change.org titled Bring Back the Combo Pizza to Costco Food Courts. It stated that the pizza is a delectable combination of meaty goodness and vegetable crunchiness. "The Combo Pizza ignites a party of tremendous flavor in the mouths of millions of Costco membership holders. The termination is not only saddening but total madness and just straight up wrong." At last count, more than 12,000 people had signed the petition, but Costco hasn't budged.
What of the Choco Taco? There was such an outpouring at the announcement of its demise and so much triggering of desire. Countless stories featuring beauty shots of pristine Choco Tacos, a bit of condensation glistening on their chocolate shells. A Pavlovian urge to have one, even if you've never wanted one, just because you knew you might never get one.
A cynic might wonder if it was a little too tidy, a sort of staged Andy Kaufman style event that brought more attention and declarations of love than any other ice cream novelty could even dream of. How viral to have an offer from the internet entrepreneur Alexis Ohanian to buy Choco Taco from Unilever to save it from its fate. "I can't let this happen," Ohanian declared on Twitter. "Not to America, not on my watch."
[music]
Susan: The suspicion that this was a fake death was so acute that Choco Taco itself had to deny it on Klondike's official Twitter feed, writing, "I want to address the rumors. I'm really being discontinued. It's not a PR stunt." In a coy aside, the account suggested that everyone "stay tuned." In the meantime, you can buy one of the lasts of the dying breed on eBay for a mere $6,942. "Own a truly rare item," the seller states. "With the loss of Choco Taco," he adds, "it's a tough time to be alive."
[music]
Speaker 1: Choco Taco, rest in peace. Susan Orleans's essay was published in The New Yorker in August, and you can read her column Afterword at newyorker.com.
Copyright © 2022 New York Public Radio. All rights reserved. Visit our website terms of use at www.wnyc.org for further information.
New York Public Radio transcripts are created on a rush deadline, often by contractors. This text may not be in its final form and may be updated or revised in the future. Accuracy and availability may vary. The authoritative record of New York Public Radio’s programming is the audio record.
