Sodas, Ranked — Settled by Vote

Nothing else on this list tastes like it, and that's the whole argument for the top spot. Wikipedia dates the recipe to the 1880s, created by American pharmacist Charles Alderton in Waco, Texas, decades before most of the field existed. Ask for Dr Pepper Original, the 12 oz can, not the cherry or cream soda spin-offs; the base formula is the one nothing substitutes for.

Citrus soda with actual bite, and the flavor has no obvious understudy. Its own product page says the original is 'also available caffeine free', which tells you caffeine is the default here, not a variant. Grab Mountain Dew Original, not Zero Sugar or Baja Blast; the green one is the reference point the rest of the line is drawn against.

Two drinks beat it on the first test and nothing beats it on the second, because you can put away a whole one and want another, which is rarer than it sounds. Its varieties page runs a Local Tastes section, 'specially crafted flavors like the Georgia Peach and California Raspberry', so even Coke keeps its regional oddities in their own corner. Stick with Coca-Cola Original Taste; the flavor extensions are a different argument.

Caffeinated root beer, which is a genuinely odd move for the category. Coca-Cola's brand page dates the drink to 1898 and prints the number against the Root Beer variety: 'CAFFEINE CONTENT: 22 mg/12 fl oz'. Most root beers go creamy and soft; this one goes sharp and dry instead. Get Barq's Root Beer, the 12 fl oz can, and drink it cold enough that the edge stays.

Wild cherry, and not the medicinal kind. The maker's own site calls it a 'unique & fizzy wild cherry taste', puts production in Salisbury, North Carolina 'for over a century', and dates itself 'Uniquely Southern Since 1917'. Carbonation runs aggressive enough to hold the sweetness in check, which is the part most cherry sodas get wrong. Ask for Cheerwine Original wild cherry; a glass bottle is worth hunting down if your store stocks it.

Ginger ale that behaves like a ginger beer, vanilla-forward and rough at the edges. The Wikipedia article credits James Vernor, a Detroit pharmacist, with first serving it in 1866, and names Keurig Dr Pepper as the current owner. Distinctive enough to win the first test outright, harsh enough to lose the second. Vernors Original vanilla ginger ale is the one; that burn in the back of the nose is the point.

Lemon-lime done with citric acid and sodium citrate, a pairing printed on Coca-Cola's Sprite varieties page, and it's why the sourness lands clean instead of syrupy. Loses the first test badly and wins the second one easily: it's the thing you drink when nothing else sounds good. Sprite Original, not Sprite Zero Sugar; the sugar version carries the acid better.

Creamy where Barq's is sharp, and that softness is the whole identity. Wikipedia dates the brand to 1919 and credits Roy W. Allen as its founder. Heavy going by the bottom of the glass, which is what keeps it here rather than higher. Order A&W Root Beer in the full sugar version, because diet loses the body a float needs, and a float is the best use anyone has found for it.

Sharper and sweeter than a cola needs to be, and the label explains why: the ingredient panel on its own product page runs high fructose corn syrup and sugar and citric acid. Great with pizza, tiring on its own after half a can, which is the second test failing in real time. Pepsi Original in the 12 fl oz can is the fair comparison; fountain versions vary too much to judge.

Cream soda pretending to be bubblegum, or maybe the other way round, because it's a Texas thing and it doesn't translate for everyone. The ingredient statement on its own product page runs carbonated water, high fructose corn syrup, natural and artificial flavor, Yellow 5 and Yellow 6, which is a strange list for a drink this red. Wins the first test outright, loses the second by half a can. Big Red Original, ice cold, next to barbecue.

Orange soda at its most unapologetic. Coca-Cola's own varieties page prints the panel, and Fanta Orange's reads high fructose corn syrup, glycerol ester of rosin, Yellow 6 and Red 40. Candy, basically, and honest about it. It sits here because orange soda has plenty of competent stand-ins and this one gets cloying fast. Fanta Orange is the grab; the zero sugar version drinks thinner.

Lemon-lime again, and with Sprite in the cooler the case gets harder to make. Its own product page prints the panel, listing filtered carbonated water, high fructose corn syrup, citric acid, potassium citrate, natural flavors and calcium disodium EDTA, and sells the taste as 'the iconic lemon lime flavor of Original 7UP'. Softer and rounder than Sprite, less acid on the finish. 7UP Original is the pick, not Diet or Cherry.

Second orange soda on the list, and the distance from Fanta is smaller than either brand would like. Wikipedia puts the launch at 1979, which makes it the youngest brand ranked here. Sweeter and less bitter than Fanta, with less of that pith edge on the finish, and it fades faster over ice. Sunkist Orange Soda is the flavor that matters.

Mixer first, drink second, and the ranking follows from that. The ingredient panel on its own product page lists ginger extract alongside high fructose corn syrup and caramel color, so there is some actual ginger in there. Next to Vernors it tastes like water with an idea, which is exactly what a highball wants, and not much else. Canada Dry Ginger Ale, full sugar rather than Zero Sugar, if you're drinking it straight.