Blumhouse Cheetos Are the Weirdest Food I Have Ever Eaten

Pumpkin spice is so 2003.

These days, a pleasantly rustic limited-time flavor for fall is simply not enough. With all things Halloween consuming more and more of the season, companies have begun filling store shelves with “scary” versions of beloved treats and snacks. Just the other day, someone on Bluesky sent me a picture of “Spooky” Hidden Valley Ranch, which is a grungy black color. (Hopefully it tastes like normal ranch and not what it looks like, which is a big pile of liquid dirt.)

This year’s assortment of Halloween flavors includes an unusual movie tie-in: “Sweet Phantom Heat” Cheetos, made in conjunction with the good people of Blumhouse Productions. Founded in 2000 by producer Jason Blum, the studio has become known for many of the biggest horror franchises of the 21st century, including The Black Phone, M3GAN, the Halloween legacyquels, and The Purge.

Blumhouse has partnered with other brands before; last Halloween, I drank Blumhouse-inspired Fanta sodas. (Unrelated question: Is it normal to wake up in the middle of the night screaming “DON’T YOU WANNA FANTA?” I’m just curious; not asking for any specific reason.) However, these Sweet Phantom Heat Cheetos — which boast that they contain “The Flavor of Fear” — aren’t inspired by any of those specific franchises. They’re tied directly to Blumhouse itself.

So what does affordable horror filmmaking taste like? As a cinephile (and a glutton for punishment) I was intruiged. I bought a bag and filmed my initial reaction.

It, uh, it didn’t go great.

The Taste Test

READ MORE: The Weirdest Movie and TV Inspired Foods of 2025

The Final Verdict

I have been eating foods inspired by movies and television shows (professionally) for over ten years now. I sampled “Oliver’s Dip” I guzzled Rizzler Berry soda. I consumed three different flavors of stuffed French toast inspired by Indiana Jones in one sitting, and licked Grinch salt off my fingers. I’ve eaten some really weird stuff in the name of content. It takes a lot to freak me (and my colon) out.

But I have never, in all that time, eaten anything that approaches the brain-melting insanity of these Cheetos. Spicy cinnamon raisin? An initial hit of sweetness followed by a blazing burn of intense spice? Who thought this was a good idea? Blumhouse wishes it could make a movie as scary as this combination.

These Cheetos could only be concocted by a mad scientist trying to create the least appealing foodstuff in human history. Or maybe they could emerge as an unforeseen byproduct of a Faustian deal with the devil himself. Does anyone know if a warlock cast a magic spell that attempted to absorb all of mankind’s sins and then place them inside of a cheese puff in order to rid the world of evil in all its forms? Those are the only reasonable explanation for Sweet Phantom Heat’s existence.

These Cheetos should only be eaten on a dare, or under the direct supervision of a licensed medical professional. I’m serious. I’m not ruling out the possibility that the viral outbreak in Zach Cregger’s Resident Evil was caused by Sweet Phantom Heat Cheetos escaping from a lab in Raccoon City. I feel like tentacules may burst out of my mouth at any moment.

So I guess what I’m saying is … these are a 100-percent faithful tie-in food to one of the biggest brands in horror cinema. But man, I really wish they weren’t.