Great America Peach

Today’s Mistake: Great America Peach. Moonsham!

14% alcohol by volume

23.5 fl oz jar

Price: $6.95

ABQ: 34.5

Millennials: they love booze, and they love mason jars.

I wish I was the genius that made the connection between these two inexorable facts and one of our nation’s proudest, most illegal pastimes: moonshinin’. If I were this genius, I’d be in Belize right now snorting painkillers and cavorting with Instagram models, rather than sitting in a dreary office compulsively checking my khakis to make sure I didn’t get any Chick-fil-A sauce on them (it was not the first Chick-fil-A trip of the week, either).

I don’t think I can put an exact date on the start of the moonshine craze without compromising my already shaky integrity, so I’m just going to guess: sometime in the early 2010s (which is when it became technically legal to produce), young people decided that they really enjoyed “moonshine.” I have that in quotations, of course, because real moonshine was/is made from corn mash and distilled in a meth shed in rural West Virginia. Real moonshine is better utilized as a paint thinning agent or a chemical solvent than a beverage. All of this is to say: real moonshine would not be served at Kaylie and Steven’s luau themed wedding, right after the guests are presented with their leis.

Much like the “speakeasy” movement in large American cities, wherein otherwise nondescript cocktail bars would tout themselves as “exclusive” because you have to say a password to a bouncer inside an Arby’s in order to get in, the moonshine craze worked with a nonsensical nostalgia for something that absolutely nobody in its target demographic had ever experienced (unless you live in Pennsylvania and therefore have to shop at state liquor stores): byzantine liquor laws and their inevitable loopholes.

Moonshine, the real shit, existed at first to skirt by government regulation and taxation on hard liquors, and then later to skirt by Prohibition. I probably don’t need to do this, but let me just remind you: all of this happened like 100 years ago. You and I were not alive. At least, I don’t think you were alive. If you were, my bad. Please don’t die eating breakfast or something. In 2010, moonshine became officially legal, so long as you took all of the necessary and standard precautions (like, you know, telling the government and paying them taxes).

For the past nine years, tons of different moonshines have come out, but I doubt any of them have caused blindness. As such, we need to ask ourselves: is it really even moonshine?

I can definitively answer that question for that gleaming jar of otter piss you see above you: absolutely not. To be fair, Great America doesn’t ever claim to actually be moonshine. The word never appears on its label (although it does on their website), but it’s quite clear they’re trying to at least evoke the spirit of the, um, spirit:

  • It comes in a mason jar
  • It has “America” in the name
  • There’s a mountain range and what might be an Eagle, I don’t know much about birds, sorry, sue me

All of this without ever saying moonshine. Nice job gang.

Anyway, this stuff comes in a number of flavors, and unfortunately, I only saw the two lamest in the store (peach and strawberry). But you can also get apple pie (good God), blueberry, lemonade, and something called “Carolina Clear,” which I assume is the moonshiniest of them all. In a bizarre move, Great America has elected to include the nutrition facts on the back of the jar:

HOLY SHIT! One serving size is 3 ounces. Thanks Great America, I’m sure Venereal Vinny and his boys down at the train yard are very carefully pouring out 3 ounces at a time, lest they overdo it. Not that I had any doubts as to the nutritional value of nuclear orange sugar booze, but it’s still sort of jarring to have it all laid out before you there: this shit is nothing more than alcoholic high-fructose corn syrup! There are 64 grams of sugar in this puppy, which seems like a lot, until you realize that the same amount of Mountain Dew (which, fun fact, is named after a slang term for moonshine) has almost 90 grams of sugar.

Would I rather be drinking Mountain Dew? Let’s find out. Here’s some alcohol that isn’t very good.


Orange! Looks an awful lot like Sunkist.


It’s just an onslaught of sugar and artificial peach flavor. If you’re a fan of artificial peach flavor, and by a fan I mean, absolutely batshit in love with it, you might find this tolerable. I did not expect subtlety from Great America, and yet.


The worst part of the experience. Great America feels like you’re chugging a bottle of corn syrup (and let’s face it, you are). Cold, alcoholic corn syrup.


OMG mason jar!


Another bullshit aspect of Great America: it’s 28 proof. It’s as strong as bum wine. Moonshine should be like, 198 proof. Fuck this. You can buy something better and bigger for half the price, like forty ounces of Steel Reserve.

Final Verdict

More like “NOT SO” Great America. 1 out of a possible 5.

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