
A combination of soda, flavored syrup, and various creams (coconut, half-and-half, coffee creamer – each choice has a backing of fervent fans), dirty soda isn’t new, but its prevalence in recent years certainly seems to be – at least to our Secret Lives of Mormon Wives-obsessed eyes.
Just as we’ve grown alternately endeared and enraged by these TikTok influencers-turned-Hulu reality stars, our taste buds have wondered about the sugary concoctions they slurp, at all hours of the day, as an alternative to the beverages prohibited by their religion. (While alcohol and coffee remain forbidden by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints’ Word of Wisdom dietary code, leadership clarified in 2012 that caffeine in soda form is fair game.) When the St. George, Utah-launched chain Swig, now synonymous with the series, opened a location in Austin this year, our anthropological fascination became a journalistic duty.
A reasonably paced stream of customers joined us at the strip mall off of U.S. 183 last month, but opening day was met with lines wrapped around the Anderson Mill building, according to local co-owner Zach Petersen.
“People love it,” says the franchisee, who also co-owns another Swig in Hutto. “It’s been very positive. We’ve been very busy.”
The drive-thru shop has spread across the nation farther and faster than its other Utah-based competitors like Sodalicious and FiiZ; it now operates 186 locations across the country and 42 in Texas, where it found an early foothold after the Dallas area was selected as an initial test market. Here, the Texas Tab, a combination of Dr. Pepper, vanilla syrup, coconut cream, and lime, is easily the most popular drink, according to Petersen. Unlike Italian sodas, which combine carbonated water with coffee syrups and an optional cream topping, the beverage is typically full-caffeine and often full-sugar, though Diet Coke is another favorite base – as in menu staple The Founder.
Over a Beach Babe, a tropical Sprite-based Swig offering, customer Drew Beard says, for him, part of dirty soda’s joy is in the experience.
“It’s the treat. It’s going out. It’s not having to leave your car,” he explains. “It’s the drive there. A reason to get out of your house.”
Raised Mormon in Kaysville, Utah, Beard shares fond memories of an old-fashioned soda shop opening in his hometown. Its bar and soda tabs drew in Beard and his friends who couldn’t imagine visiting a traditional bar, given the religion’s alcohol restriction, but still longed to swivel a barstool and rub elbows on a sticky countertop.
“People still want to engage with that alcohol culture,” he says, recalling knocking back non-alcoholic sour shots. “It felt fun to take shots as a Mormon kid growing up.”
After moving to Austin in 2021, Beard, who has since left the church, didn’t necessarily miss dirty soda, but has visited the Anderson Mill location several times since its January opening with his girlfriend, who caught the bug after watching the television personalities sip from Swig-emblazoned Styrofoam cups.
“It has been gripping me, honestly, since Mormon Wives,” agrees fizz fiend Chan Zamarron. “New stupid fun things to make soda even more ridiculous? I’m in.”
Miles away from a Swig location, Zamarron started making a version of The Founder at home with Diet Coke, coconut milk, and crystallized citrus product True Lime. For a nightcap, she resolves the “soda drinker’s dilemma” by substituting caffeine-free Diet Coke and dressing it up with frozen cherries. “It’s like having a little cocktail in the evening,” she says.
Simply made or garnished, the drink has drawn in sippers beyond the Mormon, sober, and reality TV-obsessed. Petersen, who was also raised Mormon in Utah, acknowledges both the impact of Mormon Wives and the religion of Swig’s owners, prevalent business group Larry H. Miller Company, but clarifies, “I wouldn’t say it’s endorsed by the Mormon Church.”
“I’m not Mormon,” says the co-franchisee, who recently relocated his family to Austin. “My business partner is, but I think it just came about because it’s fun.”
The savvy company has capitalized on an upbeat atmosphere by insisting on a Chick-fil-A-esque ordering model wherein so-called “Daymakers” take customers’ orders face-to-face through the car window, not over an intercom.
“I think it’s more of the experience that’s really caught on versus the actual product itself,” Petersen says, though he’s quick to add he believes in the product as well.
Other businesses seem to believe in it too. “You know you’re doing something right when national brands like McDonald’s, Sonic, Texas Roadhouse are all getting in on it,” says Petersen. America’s Drive-In was an obvious early adopter for the syrupy concoction, but fast-food and fast-casual chains have also incorporated their takes on the phenomenon into their menus.
As the franchise expands and competition grows, Swig is looking to make more of its syrups in-house with fewer dyes. It’s all a part of its plan to ensure Swig is to dirty soda what Kleenex is to tissue.
“The idea is, you can only get a Swig at Swig,” says Petersen. “You can make a Swig somewhere else. You can use Torani. You can use Monin. But it’s not going to taste the exact same.”

Cocktails With Heart (Horse)
Revival Elixirs
Half Full Learns the Ropes
Texas History on Tap
Drinkin’ Dirty
This article appears in November 13 • 2026.
