More like o-no-atmeal
Credit: Jim Spellman/Getty Images

Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson didn’t get to become a man who commands one of the highest salaries in Hollywood by eating like a normal human. The semi-retired pro wrestler pushes eating into absurd realms, taking in well over 5,000 calories—roughly ten pounds—of food per day. But a recent Instagram post suggests that not only does he put away a ridiculous amount of chow, he also has some eccentric tastes that register as debauched and depraved.

I’m not referring to the pineapple pizza, a meal so controversial that it’s caused presidents to endure intense questioning. If you read the caption, you’ll notice The Rock admitted to putting tequila in his oatmeal. That registers as either the best— or absolute worst—way to start your day. Is it even advisable for us mere mortals?

Well, I was just going to have to find out.

Luckily, I already had some McCann’s Instant Irish Oatmeal on hand. I figured if you’re going to mix oatmeal and alcohol, you can’t go wrong using something with “Irish” in its name as a base. The maple & brown sugar flavor seemed close enough to actual brown sugar, which I do not have and did not feel like buying for the purpose of this folly. I mixed up two packets with the appropriate amount of water and microwaved as suggested. The 1800 Silver tequila was added in afterward because I don’t know what happens when you put alcohol in a microwave and I’m a coward.

The oatmeal came out a little dry, but not to worry: I figured two fluid ounces of tequila (which qualifies as a double shot in some jurisdictions) would rehydrate the breakfast before proceeding to dehydrate me. As I cracked open said tequila, fuzzy memories of poor decisions made in college instantly flooded my mind. If only I’d known how useful a political science degree would be for my “career” as a freelance writer carving out a niche as someone who eats and drinks vile things in the name of good content.

You know how sometimes you have to start doing something to realize how bad of an idea it is? That’s pretty much how I felt the instant the 1800 Silver made contact with the bowl of microwaved oatmeal. The sloshing sound I heard as I stirred my concoction conjured images of a march through deeper-than-expected mud. Perhaps this was another sign to turn back before things got messy. But I didn’t buy the cheapest, smallest bottle of tequila I could find in my neighborhood liquor store for nothing. I had to forge ahead.

It was a mistake.

The taste of the agave, coupled with the unwelcome intrusion of alcohol, instantly overpowered any semblance of brown sugar or maple taste. Occasional bites resembled a flavor of oatmeal that one could legally serve to children, but the overall effect was dreadful. If the combination of those flavors was meant to mimic the sweet, tart taste of a pineapple (as the Rock’s Instagram caption implies), this wasn’t it.

It didn’t take long to figure out where I might have erred. As someone who does far more drinking than cooking, I made the mistake of pouring a margarita-level of tequila into the oatmeal rather than using it as a light form of liquid seasoning. My heavy-handed pour of booze ruined everything. Thankfully, it’s neither the first nor the last time that’s happened in my youngish life. At least this misadventure (probably) won’t end with me passing out on someone else’s couch with my shoes on or Tweeting about listening to Korn.

But then, a switch flipped: this wasn’t a failed breakfast, but oatmeal that can get you drunk. Granted you should probably find a local AA chapter if you decide to start every day like this, but as a Friday afternoon snack as my work week wound down, I figured I could do worse. After all, as cultural prophet Rebecca Black once said, you’ve gotta get down on Friday.

Would I make this mashup a second time? Definitely not. But I also wouldn’t want to follow pretty much any of the Rock’s food rituals if I wasn’t getting paid to do so (except the eating a whole pizza thing. Let’s be real). I rate the brown sugar/tequila zero out of a possible five pineapples, and I dare anyone foolish enough to repeat this experiment to prove me wrong.