What is the hottest color Taki?

What is the best flavor of Takis? Or, more accurately, what flavors of Takis are still around? Both are valid questions, as this line of rolled-up corn snacks has boasted a bevvy of flavors over the years. These days, it's down to six, which makes taste testing them pretty manageable, at least it does in theory.

The thing about Takis is, eating them is not like eating a bag of light, crispy Lays. Or even a salty selection of Doritos. Takis are snacks for the hard-core snack eater. They're thick, deep fried, roll-up corn chips, covered in flavor powder that's about as subtle as an SEC pep rally. A 4 oz. bag packs a heart-stopping 560 calories, and grabbing a bag of these for a quick snack is kinda like stepping into a bar for a quick, refreshing Triple IPA. Not for the faint of heart -– literally and figuratively -– Takis have developed a cult following nonetheless. And so we turned our fingers all sorts of colors that don't occur in nature, and present to you all the Takis flavors ranked worst to best.

Watch any online review video of Takis Crunchy Fajitas, and you'll see someone sitting in front of a camera, crunching as they look off into the distance, then eventually saying something along the lines of, "These are ... they're pretty good. They taste like ... I dunno. Something." And as nondescript as those rousing endorsements might sound, they couldn't be more accurate. Because when tasted next to the absolute flavor bombs that are the other five flavors of Takis, these just kinda taste like ... chips. But since we here at Mashed like to think we're a little more eloquent than a YouTube food taster, we'll give describing these a shot.

Probably the most accurate name for Takis Crunchy Fajita would be "Generic Mexican Flavor," like the corn chip equivalent of indiscernible mariachi music. It's a little bit of pepper, a note of nacho cheese, some salt, a little corn, and probably a blend of cumin, chili powder, and paprika somewhere along the way. It's not bland, per se, but it just seems like fajita was an afterthought along the Takis line. Or, more likely, their taste-testing department had fried tongues from trying other flavors all day.

You know Taki's take on Buffalo flavor is going to be a total miss by looking at the bag, which includes a giant side of ranch dressing. Which, to a Buffalonian, is as offensive as asking for steak sauce with a prime filet. The looks are not deceiving, as Wild Takis have about as much to do with Buffalo as Super Bowl championships. But life is all about expectations, and much like Bills fans don't ever go into a season expecting much, don't go into a bag of Wild Takis expecting anything that resembles Buffalo wing sauce.

Wild has a little bit of a hot sauce kick, if you give them some time to roll around your mouth. But lacking the buttery smoothness one finds in wing sauce, it's left as more like a Frank's Red Hot snack than anything else. It's definitely got some kick, probably about as much as the original Fuego flavor, but minus the delicious lime. If you're not into citrus flavors in your fried corn snacks, this might be a good move. But it's essentially equal heat to Fuego with less flavor, so no reason to go here unless you've got an aversion to lime.

If there were one flavor of Takis that could maybe, possibly describe itself as "fresh," it would be Guacamole, which greets its lucky eater with a nice blast of jalapeno when you open the bag. It's a nice change from the usual assault of spice and citrus that comes in a Takis bag, and lets you know you're definitely in for something different. But does different mean better? Well, that depends.

If you're a Takis purist, and eat the stuff because you love a crunchy, greasy mouthful of spice and salt, this might not be your jam. But the Guacamole Takis have definite notes of avocado, tomato, and cilantro. Dare we say, they almost approximate actual guacamole flavor. If we were ranking guacamole-flavored snacks, they actually would rate pretty highly. But they're kind of a green sheep in the Takis family, and while they might excel when mixed with snacks that are more like them, among its brothers and sisters it just doesn't measure up. A good snack, yes. But not really a great Taki.

The aggressively red packaging on Takis Nitro screams, "If Hell had 7-11s, this is what they'd be selling." And whether or not you dream of stopping in for a bag as you float down the River Styx to eternal damnation, there's no arguing Takis is setting the heat bar pretty high. It ups the description from simple "chili lime" to "habanero lime," which as anyone who's ever chopped a habanero can tell you makes one wonder if they should be handling these things with latex gloves.

But much like the "Friends" reunion special and the new album from Kanye West, Takis Nitro are more hype than substance. Are they hot? Yes. Are they significantly hotter than the original Fuego flavor when tasted side by side? Not even remotely. The only real difference you might notice is the lime flavor, which stands out substantially more in the Nitro. So if you're big into lime, you might prefer these. There's a slightly smoky finish at the end, that we suppose was put there to make you feel like a fire just went out in your mouth. But for real heat heads, you're gonna need a lot more to get your tastebuds going.

Just because Blue Heat owns its blues like a deep fried B.B. King doesn't mean this flavor is a runaway hit. Yes, the color is pretty. And it turns your hands a less upsetting color than original Takis. But if Takis was going to artificially color these things, they picked the wrong color.

Blue Heat tastes a lot like a tomatillo salsa, which if you're not familiar with complimentary Mexican restaurant appetizers is decidedly green. Maybe the green flavor dust just didn't look good on a chip, or maybe they were so inspired by the success of Blue Gatorade they thought, "Should work for snacks!" But either way, much like Crystal Pepsi the eyes don't match the tongue.

Blue Heat is marked "Extreme," but it ranks a distant third in the spiciness department. It doesn't have near the kick of Fuego or Nitro, though the flavor is a bit more pleasant than the latter. We'll put it #2, because the soft taste here is probably a little more universally enjoyable. But if you're big into traditional chili-lime, you may rank it lower.

Fuego is the bright red, hand-turning flavor of Takis that stands as the brand's flagship. Like so many flagship flavors, it's the leader for a reason: Fuego is flat out the best. Maybe it doesn't have the most spice, or the strongest lime, but it has the most rounded flavor profile of anything in the Takis line, and for that, it comes out on top. If you've never had one, the first bite is a blast of lime, that soon gives way to a mouthful of highly-processed and fried corn. Is it delicious? Not particularly. But if you're already in the habit of eating your snacks out of brightly colored bags, that probably doesn't matter.

Once the corn goes away, there's an overwhelming heat to the Fuego Takis, which mercifully subsides after a few seconds. You can feel the chili on the way down though, as it sits in your stomach along with the oil from the fried corn. What we're saying is, yes, these things taste pretty good. But they're not going to necessarily make you feel "good," so maybe don't have them right before a workout.