When I think of the most influential food and beverage spokespersons, the Jolly Green Giant falls somewhere between a mild-mannered if not over-the-hill personality like the Quaker Oats guy and…wait..was that the bad guy in Jack and the Beanstalk?

Needless to say, the Jolly Green Giant’s effectiveness in introducing children to the merits of a high-fiber, omnivorous diet have been negligible. I guess he lacks a certain je ne sais quoi. But it’s not all his fault. The Jolly Green Giant just doesn’t have as much to work with.

Even so, you can’t blame it all on frozen peas alone. It’s not like his image inspires confidence. I mean, if the diet he’s pushing means sprouting into a nine-foot tall, green freak of nature whose wardrobe consist only of a toga made out of leafs, then I am never, never eating anything natural again. I tend to think most kids with a vegetable aversion would feel the same.

The new Zesty Cheddar Roasted Veggie Tortilla Chips and Sea Salt Multigrain Sweet Potato Chips are the Jolly Green Giant’s attempts to make kids (and adults) eat their veggies. Neither, as of yet, has a taco named in honor of them, and judging from their only ho-hum taste, I think we’re safe from a Green Giant/Taco Bell collaboration for now.

Not that either flavor is horrible. One’s actually pretty good.

First up is the Sea Salt Sweet Potato chips, which have a Sun Chip feel going for them, minus the typical Sun Chips ridges. They have a decent sweet potato flavor – less flavor than Utz’s Sweet Potato Chips but more than Garden of Eatin’s Sweet Potato Tortilla chips — and get a thumbs up for a non-cloying whole grain sweetness. But while the initial flavor is mellow and wholesome, there’s something off-putting on the backend.

At first, after shoving a bunch of the chips in my mouth, I didn’t notice it. But for a few of the apparently more under-seasoned chips there is definitely an almost hempy whole grain aftertaste that’s bitter and a little repulsive. Thankfully it didn’t seem to linger too long, but I can’t see it doing much for parents trying to get their kids to like vegetables. In any case, the chips are undersalted as a batch, and don’t take advantage of the kind of spices that make the luxurious, but useful sweet potatoes the Ferrari of the vegetable world. (By the way, turnips are the Ford Windstar minivan of the vegetable world.)

The Zesty Cheddar Roasted Vegetable Chips are better. Instead of looking like Sun Chips, these have an almost Doritos-like quality to them, complete with a chemical-lab inspiring orange hue of seasoning powder that, thanks to their lickable quality and my habit of multitasking, has now made its way into every crevasse of my computer’s keyboard.

The price I pay for you people.

The crunch is a bit lighter than Doritos, but the seasoning powder gives the chip a tasty spectrum of sweet, salty, and a complex roasted flavor that reminds me a bit of Garden Salsa Sun Chips. It’s none too piquant, but I didn’t exactly expect that. I did enjoy the caramelized and hearty back notes that seemed to mirror the taste one might get from a long-simmered tortilla soup. The only downside is that long list of ingredients, which contains two separate references to partially hydrogenated oil, still doesn’t add enough of a noticeable cheddar flavor.

Even though the Sweet Potato Chips weren’t horrible and the Roasted Vegetable Chips were pretty good, I can’t see the chips doing much for the Green Giant’s street cred. I mean sure, eating them will dispel the myth that you yourself could end up a nine-foot tall chlorophyll-addict, but the flavors just don’t stack up when compared to Sun Chips or Doritos. So unless the Jolly Green Giant has got a backup plan for ice cream or pizza, then I don’t think the cause of converting kids to vegetables will be advancing very far under his guidance anytime soon.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 ounce – Zesty Cheddar Roasted Veggie Tortilla Chips – 140 calories, 60 calories from fat, 7 grams of fat, 0.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 2 grams polyunsaturated fat, 3.5 grams monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 190 milligrams of sodium, 18 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 2 grams of sugar, and 2 grams of protein. Multigrain Sweet Potato with Sea Salt – 140 calories, 50 calories from fat, 6 grams of fat, 0.5 gram of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 80 milligrams of sodium, 19 grams of carbohydrates, less than 1 gram of fiber, 3 grams of sugar, and 1 gram of protein.)

Other Green Giant Chip reviews:
I Ate A Pie

Item: Green Giant Sea Salt Mulitgrain Sweet Potato Chips & Zesty Cheddar Roasted Veggie Tortilla Chips
Purchased Price: $2.50 (on sale)
Size: 5 oz. bags
Purchased at: Weis Markets
Rating: 5 out of 10 (Sweet Potato Multigrain with Sea Salt)
Rating: 7 out of 10 (Zesty Cheddar Roasted Veggie Tortilla)
Pros: 30-40 percent less fat than standard potato chips. Whole grains and vegetables. Multigrain Sweet Potato chips have decent sweet potato flavor. Roasted Veggie chips actually taste like roasted veggies but look like Doritos. Not getting my hopes up to inevitably be let down by a taco flavor inspired by the chips.
Cons: Weird, hempy aftertaste in the Sweet Potato chips. Needs more salt. Roasted Veggies chips lack hearty crunch. Partially hydrogenated oils. Not as good as Doritos or Sun Chips.

You're reading REVIEW: Green Giant Sea Salt Mulitgrain Sweet Potato Chips & Zesty Cheddar Roasted Veggie Tortilla Chips from the semi-popular product review blog, The Impulsive Buy. You can also follow The Impulsive Buy on Twitter, Facebook, Pinterest, Instagram, Google+, and YouTube. If you'd like to help TIB, in an easy non-obtrusive way, shop at Amazon through TIB's Amazon link. The Impulsive Buy Copyright 2004-2013.

Ah, summer.

A time for ice cream cones, days at the beach, and jealousy for all of us who didn’t take that career path known as “public school educator.”

If you’re anything like me, chances are you’ll be embarking on another rite of the All-American summer again this year. And no, I’m not just talking about attempting to fit a triple-double s’more into your piehole.

It’s the road trip, of course!

Whether to your nearest recreational and beachy abode of choice, or just to your buddy’s cabin at the lake, we’re all entitled to venturing out for a little R&R this time of year. Having graduated from backseat “are we there yet?” queries and being forced to hold in a bladder the size of a nine month pregnant woman (it’s OK, we’ve all been there) because of families’ totalitarian pit stop policies, it’s likely you and I will use the power of discretion by stopping for replenishment on these sojourns.

Junk food is a prerequisite, but logistics are not on your side. Take what the Golden Arches have called “Frydration.” Sure, sustaining your vigilance behind the wheel is all the easier with a container of French fries at your side, but from the moment you pull into the drive-through to that first dip of spud into ketchup, your food clock is ticking.

Too much time in the bag and your steaming, already inconsistent fries turn to soggy mush, while any attempt to postpone your trip for a proper chowdown could leave you fighting rush-hour traffic once you hit the road again. And besides, plain fries can be boring. But throw in finger licking, guilty pleasure toppings like cheese and you’re starting to deal with a seriously gross steering wheel.

Thankfully, Ruffles has come up with a cheesy French fry in potato chip guise, and 7-Elevens across America have been given exclusive license to carry them. 

Granted, Ruffles new Crispy Fries aren’t the first potato chip/fry hybrid on the market, but unlike brands like Snikiddy, Ruffles isn’t giving me any of this “baked” bullshit. Let’s get one thing straight: the only baking I want to do on my summer vacation is on the beach.

As for my road trip munchies, that sacred territory is reserved for fried and chemically engineered flavors that only heavy hitting brands like Ruffles can come up with. And do they ever with these little guys.

The cheese seasoning is applied very liberally to each side of the fries, and aside from an addictive buttermilk and processed cheddar cheese taste, there’s a nice kick of black pepper and garlic powder that conjures up pleasant memories of T.G.I. Friday’s French fries. I was pleasantly surprised by the authentic French fry vibe, right on down to the skin-on ends of a number of the fries.

I like how they have a crunchy nature, although I do find myself missing the fluffy interior that comes with perfectly fried fries. Considering how many fast food places screw that up, though, makes it easier to forgive and forget.

As for the insides of Ruffles’ Crispy Fries, they’re interesting; at first I was expecting a hollow interior, but instead the insides are filled with hardened fried potato “stuff.” As you chew the fry, you find that potato “stuff” less like a potato chip and more like, dare I say, reconstituted mashed potatoes. I like it. It works. It shouldn’t, but it does, and it’s surprisingly potato-ey on the backend.

I have to admit, these are really good, and it’s not just the hyperbole-laced pep talk from the bag talking (although points for referring to me as “champ”). They’ve got good cheese flavor, a little bit of sweetness, plenty of crunch, and a similar finish to actual fries despite the lack of a fluffy interior.

I even liked that there were some especially crispy and oily fries, which gave off the whole horrible-for-you but oh-so-tasty vibe you get from fast food. If you’re a fan of anything crunchy and cheesy, these are definitely something worth making a detour for during bathroom break stops when you hit the open road this summer.
 

(Nutrition Facts – 1 bag – 230 calories, 140 calories from fat, 15 grams of fat, 2.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 grams of polyunsaturated fat, 0 gram of monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 210 milligrams of sodium, 430 milligrams of potassium, 20 grams of carbohydrates, 2 grams of fiber, 2 grams of sugar, and 2 grams of protein.)

Other Ruffles Crispy Fries reviews:
Food Junk (Original)

Item: Ruffles Cheese Crispy Fries
Purchased Price: $1.09
Size: 1.4 oz. bag
Purchased at: 7-Eleven
Rating: 8 out of 10
Pros: Crispy potato chip texture in French fry guise. Good cheese fry flavor. Surprisingly strong potato taste. Tasty black pepper kick. Mashed potato vibe. Not as messy as actual cheese fries. Being called a “champ.” Not having to be subjected to my father’s totalitarian car rules and bathroom stop criteria any longer.
Cons: Lacks the fluffy interior of perfectly fried French fries. Only available in small bags at 7-Eleven for a limited time. Road trip traffic to get to the beach.

I’ve no idea how it actually works, but I like to imagine that at every major chip company, the marketing and R&D people have a big meeting every six months or so. They BS a little, remind everyone which varieties have been introduced and retired lately, and then the important work begins: brainstorming for the next six months.

This has to have gotten harder over time, which accounts for the increasingly unconventional chip varieties we’ve seen in recent years. And while I’m sure Ruffles isn’t the first company to release a steak-flavored potato chip, they’re probably the first to instill each chip with the MAX amount of steak flavor possible, right?

It’s not hard to follow the train of logic of whomever came up with the idea of steak-flavored chips. Beef and potatoes have a long, proud tradition of pairing together, and while chips usually slum with hamburger while steak paints the town red with a baked potato, you can’t fault them for aiming higher.

The packaging makes it clear this isn’t some cafeteria mystery meat, showing a really good-looking steak cut into strips. It can’t be a shade over medium-rare, which is interesting; I’m surprised they let it appear so bloody. Nonetheless, it looks damn tasty, and the logo promises not just steak flavor, but flame grilled steak flavor. Seriously, they are going to kick your mouth in the balls. Or the lady balls.

Speaking of which, the back of the bag tells you exactly what demographic they’re targeting.  Hint: it does not suggest which wine cooler to pair with these chips. Seriously, there are words about MEAT! and cavemen and “clubbing something” (direct quote) and it’s all very Freudian. The blurb blatantly suggests pairing the chips with Pepsi Max, which… nice try, Ruffles, but I’m pretty sure they still make Coke Zero, so go screw yourself. I also don’t drink PBR when Sam Adams is available, in case you were wondering.

Still, the irony is not lost on me that Pepsi Max is all about having zero calories, whereas steak-flavored potato chips are most likely to be purchased by those who couldn’t give less of a shit how many calories they’re consuming.  I look forward to someday buying a gallon of ice cream with an ad for Gold’s Gym on the back.

When you open the bag, the first thing you’ll notice is the smell. That is also the second, third, and fourth things you’ll notice, because holy cow is it powerful. Opinions vary — I found it strong and mildly off-putting, whereas my wife swore it to be the grim harbinger of a fetid, moldering grave. Either way, it isn’t good. It actually does smell a bit like grilled steak, but very artificially so, like a robot that looks juuust enough like a human to be creepy.

The smell dissipates some over time, but you’ll still notice it, even if you come back after a week’s vacation and reopen the bag. As for the chips themselves, they look like regular Ruffles except a little darker and splotchier. Bizarro Ruffles, if you will.

Taste-wise… boy, it’s hard to describe. They’re unmistakably Ruffles, from the crunch and wildly varying sizes to the ridged texture. They’re as salty as regular Ruffles, though they also have pepper like any good steak, which does enhance the flavor. And darned if they don’t taste a little like steak — within reason, and that’s a key distinction. If you actually thought these were going to taste like someone lopped off a cow’s tuchus and deep fried it, you are going to be disappointed. If you expected a chip with a little smoky flavor, pepper, and something that kind of approximates the juice in a steak despite not having any juice whatsoever, you’re in luck.

Not for nothing, but I anticipate these being a highly divisive product: either you’ll think they’re pretty okay, or you’ll hate them. I fall into the former camp — wouldn’t want to get ‘em every week, but as a one-off experiment, I’m glad I tried them. My wife was far less enthusiastic and can’t walk past the pantry without narrowed eyes and involuntary hissing.

If you decide to buy a bag, make sure you have a friend or spouse or roommate to share them with, just in case. And ladies, the back of the package leads me to believe you will need to have a male present to buy a bag, so take that into account. Nothing’s worse than getting busted for illicit purchase of Man Chips.

(Nutrition Facts – 28 grams/~11 chips – 160 calories, 90 calories from fat, 10 grams of total fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 150 milligrams of sodium, 320 milligrams of potassium, 15 grams of total carbohydrates, 1 gram of dietary fiber, less than 1 gram of sugars, 2 grams of protein.)

Other Ruffles MAX Flame Grilled Steak Flavored Potato Chips reviews:
Junk Food Guy

Item: Ruffles MAX Flame Grilled Steak Flavored Potato Chips
Purchased Price: $4.29
Size: 8.5 oz bag
Purchased at: Wegman’s
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Hard to go wrong pairing potatoes with meat.  Coke Zero.  Same great Ruffles texture and crunch.  Good pepper distribution.  The smell will not actually make you vomit.
Cons: Smell is crazy strong and mildly to extremely unpleasant.  Pepsi Max.  Exclusionary ad copy.  Chips just look kind of dirty.  Taste isn’t really good enough to put up with the smell for long.

Purchased Price: $3.49
Size: 8 oz bag
Purchased at: Target
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Reduced fat, but it doesn’t taste like reduced fat thanks to the seasoning which tricks your taste buds really well. Sneaks in carrots much like how the cafeteria workers at my elementary school did. Comes in a resealable bag. Kettle cooked crunchiness.
Cons: Holy crap these suckers are salty. Tastes like those cheap Lipton Chicken Noodle Cup-A-Soup. Can’t eat a whole lot in one sitting. Seasoning is a bit overpowering and makes me want to wash my hands instead of sucking off the residue on my fingers.

Nutrition Facts: 1 oz/about 12 chips – 130 calories, 6 grams of fat, 0.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 190 milligrams of sodium, 18 grams of carbohydrates, 2 grams of fiber, 1 gram of sugar, 2 grams of protein.

Purchased Price: N/A
Size: 7 oz. bag
Purchased at: Trader Joe’s
Rating: 9 out of 10
Pros: Bold horseradish flavor and creamy cheddar flavor takes your taste buds on a tasty roller coaster ride. If you enjoy horseradish (and its burn), you will love these chips and licking the seasoning off your fingers. Thick chips. Awesome crunch that’s crunchier than other kettle chips.
Cons: Doesn’t come in a huge bag that can double as a body pillow. Only available at Trader Joe’s and there isn’t a Trader Joe’s on the rock in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.
Other reviews: What’s Good at Trader Joe’s, Chip Review

Nutrition Facts: 140 calories, 7 grams of fat, 1 gram of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 180 milligrams of sodium, 370 milligrams of potassium, 17 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 1 gram of sugar, 2 grams of protein, 2% vitamin A, 2% calcium, 10% vitamin C, and 2% iron.

In 1818, Mary Shelley publishes Frankenstein, arguably the world’s first science fiction novel. It tells the harrowing tale of Victor Frankenstein, a single-minded student of science driven to ruin by his obsession with bestowing life on inanimate matter.

In the 1990 documentary RoboCop 2, director Irvin Kershner leads us on an exploration of the science of transferring human consciousness into deadly law enforcement robots. We quickly discover the dangers of such a procedure, as multiple test subjects commit suicide after finding themselves forever trapped in their mechanical bodies.

In 1994′s Jurassic Park, noted chaotician Dr. Ian Malcolm sums up the fears of late twentieth century society when commenting on the science of an island resort filled with genetically resurrected dinosaurs, saying, “your scientists were so preoccupied with whether or not they could that they didn’t stop to think if they should.”

Time after time we are warned against charging recklessly into the untamed wilderness of science and technology, yet even in the last few years we find ourselves with peanut butter and jelly vodka, cronuts, Doritos Locos Tacos, Cherry Coke, and pizzas with hot dogs in the crust. These aren’t dinosaurs or robots. These are things we put willingly into our bodies.

So today I publish this review not so much as a review but as a mile marker for future historians to look to when our inevitable self-destruction finally occurs.

These Pepsi-flavored Cheetos are the latest food hybrid to spit in the eye of Mother Nature. They are from Japan.

The nosegrope upon opening the bag gave me pause. I immediately identified something very close to flat cola. Flat Pepsi? I dunno. My nose palate is not so refined. Something else was there in equal measure and it took me a moment to realize that the aroma was the same given off by powdered cinnamon donuts. You know, the Entenmann’s ones in the three pack with powdered sugar and plain.

In these snacks the cheese powder has been replaced with a cola powder that is disturbingly not brown. The first sensation, which I did not expect, was a very acidic bite. It’s very citrusy, almost sour. And it hits hard. It tries to capture the citrus notes of Pepsi, but it’s over the top. Too lemony. The sweeter cola flavor is there but it’s subtler and overpowered by the intense citrus. The flavors are very distinct and don’t really ever mesh well together. But they do linger in the mouth for quite a while to leave you with a weird, marginally accurate, if lemony, Pepsi aftertaste. The corn puff tastes like it should. It doesn’t do a lot besides acting as a vehicle, which is good because there is already a lot going on.

Oh, did I mention these also fizz a little?! Yea! Not like crazy Pop Rocks fizzing, but there is some definite popping and crackling. It’s all about attention to detail, guys. I tip my hat to Frito-Lay for that one.

Overall, this is a pretty accurate flavor recreation. It’s an impressive effort to be sure. That said, I don’t like them. I could only get through a few of them. They’ve got a lot going on and are kind of intense. A few tweaks to the levels of citrus and cola and these could be passable.

These wouldn’t be in my top 100 dream flavor what-ifs, but I’m glad they exist. They either point to a futuristic flavor-fusion utopia in which anything is possible or an apocalyptic hell place where cyborg velociraptors chew our faces off with laser teeth.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 package – 414 kcal, 24.8 grams of fat, 614 milligrams of sodium, 44.6 grams of carbohydrates, 3 grams of protein.)

Item: Frito Lay Cheetos x Pepsi Shuwa Shuwa Cola Corn Snack
Purchased Price: $3.99 (plus shipping)
Size: 75 gram bag
Purchased at: eBay
Rating: 5 out of 10
Pros: Pepsi-ish. A for effort. Fizzing snacks. Science.
Cons: Lingering aftertaste. Lemon. robot dinosaurs.

Sometimes on the road of life we use food to mark the milestones along the way. Jolly Ranchers remind me of playing arcade games at the corner store when I was a kid. Limp, crinkle cut French fries remind me of attending my sister’s softball games in my early teens. Sour Apple Pucker reminds me of being a camp counselor in college. Swordfish reminds me of my honeymoon.

When these Doritos arrived in the mail, I had an immediate flashback to my youth and a long forgotten memory. I must have been ten or eleven. I was a big professional wrestling fan. I was watching WCW, maybe even the NWA back then, and I saw a wrestler who had a sort of zig-zaggy, lightning bolt line shaved into his head. It zig-zagged at the side of his head, then continued as a straight line around the back, and zig-zagged on the other side. Temple to temple.

I thought it was awesome. And I somehow convinced my mom to take me to the haircuttery to get something comparable. This must have set a precedent because in a related incident, during an Olympic year, I shaved a big USA into the back of my head. (Gotta support those gymnasts and divers somehow.) I guess my mom didn’t care how bizarre I wanted to look provided I did it at the beginning of the summer so it would grow out before school started.

So anyway, I went to the hairs place and asked the completely clueless older woman that worked there if she could do this for me. I remember there being a lot of back and forth and her not really understanding what I wanted. But we forged ahead anyway.

I did not get the cool around the head lightning line that I wanted. I got two shaved patches on either side of my head that were shaped exactly like these Doritos. They didn’t connect at all. And they were quite large. I think having to take my glasses off during said haircut contributed to my allowing the mis-shaving to take place. But it was fine. I’m sure I lost interest two seconds later. I had etched my individuality upon my skull. That’s all that mattered.

Was it like when famous drummers have pictures of themselves banging on pots and pans when they were toddlers? Did those lightning bolts presage my life as a blogger. I’m going to say yes they did. Which means this review is 23 years in the making.

These American Hot Wings Doritos are from Taiwan. While “American Hot Wings” is a very vague and ultimately meaningless term, the picture on the bag seems to suggest Buffalo wings, so that’s the flavor standard from which I’ll be working.

The nose grope of the bag is dominated by chili powder with notes of Ramen noodles.

The flavor of each chip seems to suggest that “American Hot Wings” really just means chili powder. There are hints of garlic present, but chili powder is in the driver’s seat. Chicken powder is listed last on the ingredients list, like an afterthought to uphold the flavor theme. Which makes sense because it’s nowhere to be found on the chips.

These are also surprisingly sweet, and the “Hot” is anything but. It’s a mild tingling at best, and then, only after several handfuls.

Doritos from Asia have a different structure than their American counterparts, and I don’t just mean the awesome and unexplainable lightning shape of these chips. I’ve always found them to be denser and more corn-dominated. The flavor powder on these chips is quickly subsumed by the corn chip itself. In the end you’re left with a tingling tongue tasting mostly of corn and chili powder. In that order.

These American Hot Wings Doritos are about as far from Buffalo wings (or any sauced wing) as you can get, but they’re still pretty good. They’re not very interesting, but the sweetness and the chili powder work well together. I happily finished the bag.

You know, I’m starting to think that prophetic haircut from twenty years ago wasn’t such a big deal after all. If it didn’t point to these Doritos, then what was it pointing to?

Geez. What a letdown.

(Nutrition Facts – 25 grams – 130 calories, 6.5 grams of fat, 3.3 grams of saturated fat, 142 milligrams of sodium, 16 grams of carbohydrates, and 1.8 grams of protein.)

Item: Frito-Lay Late Night American Hot Wings Doritos (Taiwan)
Purchased Price: ???
Size: 65 grams
Purchased at: Somewhere on Guam
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Sweet chili powder is not so bad. Lightning-shaped chips!
Cons: Lack of flavor accuracy. The bag is more interesting than the chips. Corny. Unfulfilled prophecy.

In the world of potato chips, the bright yellow bag of Lay’s potato chips is stamped permanently in my Potato Chip List of Glory. How one improves on permanence? I don’t know.

Of course, every new product Lay’s rolls out presents a new threat to my ardor: What if I eat a new kind and find myself unsatisfied? It isn’t realistic to expect perfection from every product…is it? Should I just stick with the classic fried chip? Am I going to give up Lay’s if I have a negative experience? If I give them up, where will I go when I have a chip craving? What does it all mean for my future of chip eating?!?!

I’m not sure, but I do know that a) the arrival of Popchips has been threatening to disturb the order of Lay’s potato chip glory on the shelves lately and thus b) Lay’s deserves its day to try and stand up for itself in this puffed-chip world. It was for this very reason that I pushed my anxiety aside and picked up the Lay’s Air Pops, determined to see if my steadfast chip could hold its own in these shifting, puffy-chip times.

Air Pops supposedly come in Sour Cream and Onion and Barbecue flavors. This time, the Fates conspired against me and I was left with the Original as my only option, a shame as I would’ve swooned like a melodramatic Shakespeare character over a bag of Sour Cream and Onion, but I figured it was best to try the Original first as it would prove whether or not Lay’s could set a solid foundation for its poppable round crisps. Plus, it saved me a lot of embarrassment that would’ve resulted from swooning in public.

Having been raised on the Original Lay’s, I like my chips thin, crispy, and with a salinity that could compete with the sodium levels of the Dead Sea. At the same time, none of this should take away the potato flavor. Popping open the bag, I’m greeted with the smell of potato and salt, a good foresight considering that’s all I want to taste.

And these don’t disappoint. Salty, crispy, potato-y, these have all the qualifying pillars that build a Potato Chip Parthenon on the acropolis of Greatness. They’re definitely inspired by the “Popchips” all those youngsters are talking about. Now, if you’ve yet to dip your toe in the Popchips craze, let me explain: a Popchip is a potato pellet (yes, “potato pellet”) that, according to an oldie clip of Marc Summers, has been vacuumized and puffed out into a round, crispy disc.

Flavor and texture-wise, I would describe Popchips as a round, potato-enhanced Bugle. One of the troubles I sometimes encounter with a Popchip is that they have a grain that can come across sharp against my mouth, almost as if I were subjecting myself to eating potato-flavored dry polenta. I was happy to discover the Lay’s version has a more Pringles-like grain that goes down smoother. That, paired with the fact that they’re doused with that perfect, cheap, grainy Lay’s table salt, gives them high marks all around.

There are many things that bring me great joy: the wrinkly faces of English Bulldogs, crazy straws, and Scottish kilts. While I’ve never taken the time to number them, resting somewhere at the top of the list would have to be finding the crumbly bits of chip at the bottom of the bag. You know what I’m talking about. Those discarded, semi-damaged remnants of potato flake and salt that, when tipped out of their pointed fissure in the corner of the aluminum bag, congeal with the perfect ratio of sodium chloride to potato. I’m happy to say that, for all you chip dust lovers, Lay’s doesn’t deny you here. Because the bag had been slightly crushed on the trek home (curse you, closing subway door!), a bounty of dusty booty awaited me as I reached the end of solid chippery, allowing me to tilt the bag and consume my reward. Ah. Chip satisfaction.

As seen with yo-yos, spandex, and roller skates, trends can meander and shift with no rhyme or reason, and it’s no different in the world of chips, which can go from 3-D to taco-fied in a matter of months. However, this puffed chip craze seems to be sustaining itself, having already expanded to everything from tortillas to lentils, and I, for one, am glad Lay’s has jumped in the ring. Their rendition is a solid one, done with a fearlessly salty hand and a quality potato taste while offering a slightly smoother texture than Popchips, so make room in the pantry. Lay’s has entered the puffed chips game.

(Nutrition Facts – 19 crisps – 120 calories, 40 calories from fat, 4 grams of fat, 0.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 190 milligrams of sodium, 80 milligrams of potassium, 19 grams of carbohydrates, less than 1 gram of fiber, 0 grams of sugar, and 1 gram of protein.)

Item: Lay’s Air Pops Original Potato Chips
Purchased Price: $2.99
Size: 3 oz. bag
Purchased at: Duane Reade
Rating: 8 out of 10
Pros: Nice balance of salt and potato. Similar to a slightly airy Pringle. Comes in Barbecue and Sour Cream and Onion. Plenty of crumbs. Doesn’t require endorsements from pop icons to make them taste good. Crazy straws. Wrinkly bulldog faces.
Cons: Only finding the Original when you really want the Sour Cream and Onion. May be too salty for some. Kinda sorta copying Popchips and, therefore, could be accused of lacking originality. “Potato pellet.” Getting crushed by subway doors.

Purchased Price: FREE
Size: 45 gram bag
Purchased at: Received from a friend
Rating: 4 out of 10
Pros: Cheese flavoring makes it somewhat tolerable. Not as gross as I thought it would be. Having some English translation on the packaging. It’s a regular flavor in China, so if you find yourself there, you can pick these up. Lobster on packaging looks like it enjoys having cheese poured on it.
Cons: Couldn’t really taste lobster; it has more of a generic seafood flavor. The cheese flavoring, at times, tastes like butter. Smells sweet. I couldn’t eat an entire bag in one sitting. Makes my fingers greasier than regular potato chips. Putting cheese on lobster sounds weird, but that’s the American in me talking.

Nutrition Facts: 993 kJ, 14.4 grams of fat, 215 milligrams of sodium, 23.9 grams of carbohydrates, and 2.4 grams of protein.

Other reviews: AsiaObscura, Revolting Snacks, cbthechaser

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Purchased Price: FREE
Size: 75 grams
Purchased at: Received from a friend
Rating: 3 out of 10
Pros: Enjoyable mild wasabi flavor; very little wasabi heat. Kind of smells like McDonald’s Hot Mustard Sauce. Whatever I eat to get the flavor of these chips out of my mouth.
Cons: Not fun after the wasabi flavor goes away. Do I taste cheese? Shrimp isn’t noticeable until the aftertaste. Smells fishy. I can’t eat much of it. Gagged twice while eating my way through the bag. Dollop of wasabi on the bag looks as sad as I do while eating these chips.

Nutrition Facts: 30 grams – 656 kcal, 9.2 grams of fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 144 milligrams of sodium, 16.2 grams of carbohydrates, 1.7 grams of protein.

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Purchased Price: $5.39
Size: 7.5 oz. bag
Purchased at: Longs Drugs
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Cheesy. Slight smoky bacon flavor. Sprinkled with bits of green onion. Cheddar & Sour Cream Ruffles. Great replacement if you can’t find this, this, or buy some frozen bacon and cheese potato skins.
Cons: Crunch feels more cracker-like. Regular Ruffles have a better crunch than these. I highly doubt anyone is purchasing this because it has deeper ridges than previous Ruffles Ultimate. Tastes too similar to previous bacon and cheddar potato skin Ruffles varieties. Potato skin flavor has been overused by Ruffles. Has more food dyes than I’d like when it comes to potato chips.

Nutrition Facts: 1 oz. – 160 calories, 90 calories from fat, 10 grams of fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 170 milligrams of sodium, 310 milligrams of potassium, 15 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 1 gram of sugar, 2 grams of protein.

They say, “There’s nothing finer than a pecan pie from a diner.” They also say, “Feeling down and want to cry? Turn your feeling around with a pecan pie.”

I don’t know who said them. It could’ve been a pastry chef, PR rep for the pecan industry, or the voices in my head who tell me aluminum foil is made from alien skin, but what I, and the voices in my head, do know is that pecan pie is delicious, even though it looks like a pie topped with cockroaches.

And it appears the folks at Pringles agree because they’ve come out with a pecan pie flavor. Yup. Pringles ignored all the Ewww’s and WTFs said on the internet about last year’s sweet flavors and introduced another.

I tried two of last year’s seasonal flavors–White Chocolate Peppermint and Cinnamon & Sugar–and wasn’t too impressed with them. They weren’t horrible, but they were a little off-putting and I didn’t buy more even when I saw them on the clearance shelf at Target. So I was expecting these Pecan Pie Pringles to be as non-repurchaseable.

However, it appears the Pringles guy still has a few tricks in his comically large, and probably high maintenance, mustache because these Pecan Pie Pringles are tasty.

But…

The thing is, these flavored potato crisps don’t taste anything like pecan pie. Actually, to be a bit more exact, they have no pecan flavor. Pringles got the sweet part down, there’s even a butteriness, but there’s no nuttiness.

Instead, Pecan Pie Pringles tastes more like waffles with butter and maple syrup. The sweet syrup makes sense since pecan pie can be made with it. So if Pringles decides to team up with IHOP and release a Limited Time Only Waffles & Syrup Pringles in the future, they already have the recipe.

The sweet seasoning is applied conservatively, but there’s just enough to mask the potato flavor. While that seasoning is tasty and makes me want to chaineat my way through half a can in 10 minutes, its color makes each crisp look like someone dropped it, beyond the five second rule, on the floor of a room that hasn’t been dusted in decades.

Overall, Pecan Pie Pringles makes me eat the Ewww’s and WTFs I said about the sweet Pringles flavors last year. Although, if Fruitcake Pringles comes out next year, I may have to regurgitate those Ewww’s and WTFs.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 oz. – 150 calories, 80 calories from fat, 9 grams of fat, 2.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 95 milligrams of sodium, 16 grams of carbohydrates, 2 grams of fiber, 2 grams of sugar, and 1 gram of protein.)

Item: Limited Time Only Pecan Pie Pringles
Purchased Price: $2.19
Size: 5.96 oz.
Purchased at: Target
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Surprisingly good. Tastes like waffles with butter and syrup. Just enough seasoning to mask the potato. I’d purchase them again. Much better than last year’s sweet Pringles flavors. Rhyming.
Cons: Doesn’t taste like pecan pie. Looks like Pringles that fell onto a dusty floor. Having a high maintenance mustache.

Purchased Price: $3.00 (on sale)
Size: 9.9 oz. bag
Purchased at: Safeway
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Tasty, spicy snack. Hearty crunch. Nice chili pepper and lime flavor with noticeable notes of paprika. Even though they look like they’re going to be painfully spicy, they have a nice low-to-mid level heat.
Cons: They look like Satan’s claw clippings. Exclusive to Safeway. Not going to be liked by those who dislike monosodium glutamate. They’ll turn your fingers red. I don’t think they’re very spicy, but why are they making my nose run while I’m eating them?

Nutrition Facts: about 15 chips – 150 calories, 70 calories from fat, 8 grams of fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 2.5 grams of polyunsaturated fat, 3 grams of monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 460 milligrams of sodium, 14 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 0 grams of sugar, and 2 grams of protein.

Purchased Price: $2.69
Size: 3.5 oz. bag
Purchased at: Target
Rating: 5 out of 10
Pros: Sweet, buttery caramel flavor, but that goodness doesn’t last long. The aroma that wafting out of the bag smells like a bag of caramels. No added preservatives. No artificial colors. No saturated or trans fat. Gluten free.
Cons: Much like Katy’s Kettle Corn Popchips, the flavor disappears quickly and most of the time the chip is in your mouth it tastes kind of like unflavored popcorn. Inconsistent seasoning on each chip, sometimes the flavor pops, but most of the time it doesn’t. Salt doesn’t really make an appearance. It’s not called Katy’s Salted Karamel.

Nutrition Facts: 1 oz./about 16 chips – 130 calories, 35 calories from fat, 4 grams of fat, 0 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 grams of polyunsaturated fat, 3 grams of monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 135 milligrams of sodium, 21 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 3 grams of sugar, and 2 grams of protein.

My saturated fat-addled mind has been dreaming of these chocolate-dipped chips for a long time.

Well, to be accurate, I dreamed of Lay’s Original Potato Chips and Lay’s Kettle Cooked Potato Chips dipped in chocolate. However, even though it ended up being Lay’s Wavy Potato Chips dipped in milk chocolate, my saturated fat-addled mind is still happy.

Actually, to be even more accurate, my dreams didn’t involve the chips being dipped into chocolate, instead the chips were anthropomorphic and they wrestled in a Spongebob Squarepants kiddie pool of melted chocolate surrounded by cheering anthropomorphic crunchy snacks. At the end of the match, the cracked, chocolate-dripping loser would march into my mouth and the chocolate-dripping winner would battle another potato chip.

The Lay’s Wavy Original Potato Chips Dipped in Milk Chocolate don’t look like they were wrestling in a small inflatable pool because the chips are mostly coated on one side. Anyone who’s grappled with an opponent in a kiddie pool knows it’s impossible to not get completely covered in whatever is in the pool. It’s a thick layer of chocolate that gives each chip a noticeable heft.

Frito-Lay was correct in using their Lay’s Wavy Potato Chips. Their thickness doesn’t cause their crunch to get dampened by the chocolate like they probably would’ve with the thinner Lay’s Original Potato Chips. The milk chocolate was sweet and I loved the way it instantly melted in my mouth the moment it hit my tongue, as if my saliva was molten lava.

For a brief moment the chocolate’s sweetness and potato chip’s crunchiness made me happy, but there no epic unclasping-of-a-bra-like euphoria that makes my innards scream, “YES!” Instead, there’s a Wonderbra-like disappointment, because they aren’t as awesome as I imagined them to be in my mind. The whole point of combining chocolate with potato chips is to create that pleasing sweet and salty combo, but with most of the chips I ate, I felt they were significantly more sweet than salty and the potato flavor couldn’t cut through the sweetness.

Salt plays a huge part in what makes potato chips so addictive, but my taste buds didn’t regularly register any. And for those times I did, it wasn’t as potent as I hoped it would be. I think I can get a more pronounced saltiness on my tongue if I ran in place for 20 seconds and then licked myself.

Besides the lack of salt, another issue is the sticker shock. Actually, now that I think about it, it’s really packaging shock, which is then followed by sticker shock. Each bag comes with five ounces of chocolate dipped chips, but that bag is the same size as the smallest bag of Lay’s Potato Chips (1 7/8 oz.) I could find at my nearest convenience store. Yes, chocolate is heavier than deep fried potato slices, but I’m pretty sure most people who see the bag will think, “Wow. That’s a small bag.” Then they’ll look at the price and maybe have some hesitation about purchasing it.

I know it sounds like I’m not thrilled by these Lay’s Wavy Potato Chips Dipped in Milk Chocolate, but I did enjoy making my way through the bag, getting chocolate all over my hands. They’re really good, but they didn’t blow my mind. But I think that’s my fault, because my saturated fat-addled mind had such high expectations of them.

A special thanks goes to Impulsive Buy reader Johnny who sent me two bags.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 oz./about 4 chips – 160 calories, 80 calories from fat, 9 grams of fat, 4.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, less than 5 milligrams of cholesterol, 45 milligrams of sodium, 130 milligrams of potassium, 17 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 12 grams of sugar, and 2 grams of protein.)

Item: Limited Edition Lay’s Wavy Original Potato Chips Dipped in Milk Chocolate
Purchased Price: $3.49
Size: 5 oz. bag
Purchased at: Target
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Really good. It’s frickin’ milk chocolate dipped potato chips! Use of Lay’s Wavy chips helped prevent the crunch from being dampened by the chocolate. Love the way the chocolate instantly melted on my tongue.
Cons: Most chips were significantly more sweet than salty. Target exclusive. Serving size is about 4 chips. Potato flavor couldn’t break through the sweetness. Potential buyers might have packaging shock, then followed by sticker shock. The dreams my saturated fat-addled mind has.

I’d like to introduce you to the new Pringles Tortillas.

If you’re a junk food nerd, you’re probably pushing up your glasses with your pointer finger and saying, “TECHNICALLY, Pringles Tortillas aren’t the first tortilla Pringles…DUH!”

Yes, junk food nerd, you are correct. Torengos are the original tortilla Pringles, although they were their own brand and later brought under the Pringles label. They were triangular like most tortilla chips, concave to make them dip friendly, and had a uniform shape so they could be stacked, like Pringles.

Update: It turns out there were Pringles Tortilla Crisps before Torengos. Hat tip to commenter CulinaryZerg.

These new Pringles Tortillas aren’t triangular, but they are shaped like the potato crisps we all know and occasionally use to make it look like we have duck bills. They also come in the same cans some of us get our hands stuck in and are available in three flavors: Truly Original, Nacho Cheese, and Southwestern Ranch.

(Although, if you’re a junk food nerd, you might be saying, “TECHNICALLY, there are four, if you count the Walmart exclusive flavor, Zesty Salsa and they’re not the same cans since Pringles now come in taller cans…DUH!”)

Truly Original Pringles Tortillas truly taste like triangular tortilla chips from a bag, although they’re not as crunchy and perhaps not as thick. If you truly stare at an individual crisp, you’ll see there are randomly scattered small holes. Because of them, you might be wondering if Truly Original Pringles Tortillas can truly handle something like truly chunky salsa. But don’t worry, much like my excessive use of the word “truly” in this paragraph, your concern in unnecessary because I was able to easily glide every crisp through a small bowl of salsa without any breakage.

I liked Truly Original Pringles Tortillas, but I ate my way through the can slower than the other flavors. If I love a Pringles flavor, this is what happens: I’ll feel shame after realizing I ate half the can in one sitting, but then shake that off and eat more. I didn’t experience that with these plain tortilla crisps, not even when I ate them with salsa. By the way, the tortilla crisps’ shape does well as a salsa scooper.

As for the Nacho Cheese flavor, let me ask you the following question, “Do you love Doritos, but wish your tongue didn’t look like you’ve been licking Sesame Street’s Ernie every time you ate some?” If so, Nacho Cheese Pringles Tortillas might be perfect for you because they taste exactly like Nacho Cheese Doritos, but don’t turn any of your body parts into a different color. They have a flavor intensity that’s higher than a Taco Bell Nacho Cheese Doritos Locos Taco shell, but noticeably lower than Nacho Cheese Doritos. This is due to the fact they’re seasoned on one side only.

Since the Nacho Cheese Pringles Tortillas taste similar to Nacho Cheese Doritos, I wasn’t surprised to find out the Southwestern Ranch Pringles Tortillas taste like Cool Ranch Doritos. But just like the nacho cheese variety, they were less intense than the Doritos.

Unlike the Truly Original Pringles Tortillas, I found myself feeling shame after eating half the can of the Nacho Cheese Pringles Tortillas in one sitting and half the can of the Southwestern Ranch Pringles Tortillas in another sitting. And in both instances, I shook off the shame and ate more. So, yes, I very much enjoyed both varieties.

However, if I want a crunchy snack that tastes like Nacho Cheese and Cool Ranch Doritos, I’m not going to buy these Pringles Tortillas, I’m going to purchase Nacho Cheese and Cool Ranch Doritos. I like it when the seasoning accumulates on my fingertips, leaving sort of a savory digestif. Plus, the Doritos are healthier (I know. It’s weird seeing “Doritos” and “healthier” in the same sentence). They have half the saturated fat and lower sodium numbers than Pringles Tortillas.

But if you enjoy the possibility of getting your hand stuck in a Pringles can, demand snack shape uniformity, and want a nacho cheese tortilla snack that doesn’t make your tongue and fingers look like they stroked The Muppet Show’s Scooter, these Pringles Tortillas are for you.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 oz. – Truly Original – 150 calories, 80 calories from fat, 8 grams of fat, 2 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 160 milligrams of sodium, 17 grams of carbohydrates, less than 1 gram of fiber, less than 1 gram of sugar, and 2 grams of protein. Nacho Cheese – 150 calories, 70 calories from fat, 8 grams of fat, 2.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 240 milligrams of sodium, 17 grams of carbohydrates, less than 1 gram of fiber, 1 gram of sugar, and 2 grams of protein. Southwestern Ranch – 150 calories, 70 calories from fat, 8 grams of fat, 2 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 260 milligrams of sodium, 17 grams of carbohydrates, less than 1 gram of fiber, 1 gram of sugar, and 2 grams of protein.)

Item: Pringles Tortillas (Truly Original, Nacho Cheese, and Southwestern Ranch)
Purchased Price: $1.98
Size: 6.07 oz. (Truly Original)
Size: 6.42 oz. (Nacho Cheese & Southwestern Ranch)
Purchased at: Walmart
Rating: 6 out of 10 (Truly Original)
Rating: 7 out of 10 (Nacho Cheese)
Rating: 7 out of 10 (Southwestern Ranch)
Pros: Nacho Cheese and Southwestern Ranch taste like Nacho Cheese and Cool Ranch Doritos. Truly Original is tough enough to handle chunky salsa. Healthier than Nacho Cheese and Cool Ranch Doritos.
Cons: Truly Original is not as addictive as the other two flavor. Nacho Cheese and Southwestern Ranch taste like Nacho Cheese and Cool Ranch Doritos. I miss the buildup of seasoning on my fingertips. Licking a Muppet. The shame of eating half a can of Pringles in one sitting.

Purchased Price: $2.98
Size: 9 oz. bag
Purchased at: Walmart
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Nice smoky aroma. Its garlicky, oniony, and peppery flavor reminds me of a canned chili (I can’t remember what brand). Most flavorful Tostitos I’ve ever had. Shape makes them great for dips. Red peppers in the chip. Some chips have a kick (thanks jalapeño). The Asian in me is excited about the soy sauce used to make them (I can kind of taste it, but it might be my mind thinking it’s there because I know it’s there).
Cons: Not all the chips in the bag have a kick to them. The flavor noticeably diminished as I ate more in one sitting. Being too cheap to buy dip. The exclamation point after Scoops. Shape makes them look like they would make good pasties, but rough corn chip texture would be tough on nipples.

Nutrition Facts: 1 oz/10 chips – 130 calories, 60 calories from fat, 7 grams of fat, 1 gram of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 130 milligrams of sodium, 17 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 0 grams of sugar, and 2 grams of protein.

I like spaceships. Serenity, the Enterprise, Galactica, Bebop, the Nostromo, the Yamato, the Heart of Gold, the Protector, the Discovery, Prometheus. All of them. I even like real spaceships like the space shuttle Atlantis and the Millennium Falcon.

They represent what’s out there. The great unknown. The vast expanses of the galaxy and the universe. And it saddens me that the national space program is in such a state of decline. If we don’t continue to expand our presence into the Local Group, how are we going to colonize and terraform Mars? How are we going to make first contact? How can we even start to think about making the Kessel Run in under twelve parsecs?

The answer is that none of these things is going to be happening anytime soon unless we find a major reason to motivate us. Clearly the huddled masses aren’t interested in learning or human achievement, so I believe the motivation lies in snack food.

At some point, we’re going to run out of food ideas. Mathematically this seems inevitable. There is a finite number naturally occurring foods on our planet, so there is an equally finite number of ways to combine them. We are already there. When molecular gastronomists are forced reduce garden peas to their essence to be huffed from a balloon animal made from a section of a bison’s intestinal tract, it seems the end is almost nigh.

We’ve already started remixing with our processed foods. Bacon’s been smashed into every product in every grocery aisle. Name something you bought in October or November that didn’t have pumpkin in it. Impossible.

Even the corporations who are in charge of these things are running out of ideas. They’ve been reduced to farming out ideas to the common man through flavor contests.

The end is on its way, you guys. And that end, that day when everything has been combined with everything else, is going to be the day we head back into space. People may not be excited about studying moon rocks, but they’ll sure as hell be excited about the possibility of Limited Edition Romulan Ale Doritos and Blue Bantha Milk Oreos.

Until that day, we’ll continue dreaming and smashing together things we have. And we do that today with these Mountain Dew Cheetos from the Japanese arm of Frito-Lay.

As with the Pepsi-flavored Cheetos I reviewed a while back, the color of these things bothers me. Not making them bright Mountain Dew green is a wasted opportunity. This kind of product is a novelty and an attention getter, and their color should reflect that. Orange Cheetos-dusted fingers are a tradition. How great would obnoxiously green Mountain Dew Cheetos fingers be?! Pretty damn great.

The nosegrope of these Cheetos is very intensely citrus. There is a lot of lemon, and they smell sweet. There is also an underlying current of stale, flat cola. They smell very similar to the Pepsi Cheetos but with the lemon ratcheted up.

The flavor recreation they were going for falls a bit short of their goal. There is an initial blast of sour lemon flavor that is followed by some underlying sweetness. The lemon flavor tastes pretty artificial. I don’t have a problem with artificial flavors, obviously, but it tastes artificial to the point where it forces you to stop and think of the artificialness.

The sour blast is a bit too much here. It takes the Cheetos from the realm of “Mountain Dew” to the realm of…something with a lot of lemons. I know people who have consumed a Star Destroyer’s worth of Mountain Dew in their lives, and I’m not confident they could blind taste this and come up with anything other than a quizzical “something lemony.”

Like the Pepsi Cheetos, the aftertaste of these lingers for a very long time. I also didn’t get as much mouth-fizzing action as I hoped for. The Pepsi Cheetos are definitely the superior hybrid food, but that’s not saying a lot.

These are not bad. A lemon-flavored corn snack is not a terrible idea, but a lemon-flavored corn snack is really all we get here. Nothing transcendent, nothing revelatory. Just a good idea that is off the mark.

I’m already looking forward to Dr. Pepper Cheetos (and distantly to Klingon Bloodwine Kit Kats.) Until then!

(Nutrition Facts – 188 kcal, 10.3 grams of fat, 221 milligrams of sodium, 22.1 grams of carbohydrates, and 1.8 grams of protein.)

Item: Frito Lay Mountain Dew Corn Snack (Mountain Dew Cheetos)
Purchased Price: $4.50
Size: 35 grams
Purchased at: eBay
Rating: 5 out of 10
Pros: Lemons. Sour blasts. Spaceships.
Cons: Wrong color. Too much lemon to be Mountain Dew. Lingering aftertaste. Lack of fizz.

I still remember my shock, as a kid, finding out that ketchup chips are mostly just a Canadian thing, and that they’re not readily available in the States. This information stunned me. It made me question the way I perceived the world. Ketchup chips are such a fundamental potato chip flavour; this was like being told that Americans cannot perceive the colour blue.

As far as I’m concerned, there are certain bedrock chip flavours. Salt & vinegar. Barbecue. Sour cream & onion. Ketchup. All Dressed.

Wait — you don’t have All Dressed, either?? What kind of lives have you been living? I’ll answer that one: empty lives. Empty, horrible, All-Dressed-and-ketchup-chip-less lives.

Ketchup and fries are obviously natural bedfellows. Potato chips and fries are clearly brothers in the junk food family tree (or at the very least, cousins). It follows, then, that ketchup chips are a complete no-brainer.

But ketchup Doritos? That’s different. That’s as wacky to me as it is to you. I’ve never seen anybody dip a tortilla chip into ketchup, and I hope that day never comes. It’s too horrible to fathom.

So if the ketchup/tortilla combo is gross, Ketchup Doritos must be gross too, right? Well… read on, my friend. Read on.

Before I get into this particular flavour, I will say that I think Doritos are the best store-bought tortilla chip on the market. I don’t want to get too hyperbolic, but I think they’re pretty much textural perfection; they’re the perfect combination of crispy, airy, and crunchy.

(And I really wish they’d make plain Doritos easier to find, but they’re completely unavailable in Canada, and even in the States I’m almost never able to track them down. But I digress.)

I definitely wasn’t sold on this flavour after my first bite. Doritos and ketchup is such a weird combination that it just seems wrong. At first you’re hit with that vinegary ketchup sweetness and and it seems to confirm your worst fears. It feels off-putting.

But then you have another, and another, and before you know it, you’re hooked. There’s something weirdly addictive and oddly satisfying about it. A hint can be found in the ingredients. The third ingredient of the seasoning is monosodium glutimate, a.k.a. the dreaded MSG.

I should note that the notion that MSG is more unhealthy than any other seasoning has been thoroughly debunked at this point, in case you were wondering. What MSG does do is heighten a food’s umami factor. Combined with the dehydrated tomato (another umami-packed ingredient), it gives these Doritos (and quite a few other Doritos flavours) a savoury richness that you can’t quite put your finger on, but that keeps you coming back chip after chip.

The seasoning isn’t quite as liberally applied as with some other flavours. This is definitely a good thing; a little bit of the puckery sweet vinegar flavouring of the ketchup goes a long way. This means that more of the chip’s corn flavour shines through, which compliments the ketchup flavour fairly well, oddly enough.

It’s not my favourite variety of Doritos ever (it still has that distinctive ketchupy taste, which is never going to be perfect on a tortilla chip), but it is way, way better than you’d think it would be. I really only needed to sample one bag for the purpose of this review, and I’m already onto my second, which tells you how much I enjoyed it (it also tells you that I’m a pig whose boundless appetite can never quite be sated… but we’ll set that aside for the moment).

(Nutrition facts – 50 grams/21 chips – 260 calories, 13 grams of fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 290 milligrams of sodium, 32 grams of carbohydrates, 2 grams of fibre, 2 grams of sugar, 3 grams of protein.)

Item: Limited Time Only Ketchup Doritos (Canada)
Purchased Price: $3.50 CAN
Size: 245 gram bag
Purchased at: Hasty Market
Rating: 8 out of 10
Pros: Way better than you’d think it would be. Surprisingly addictive.
Cons: The very idea of it is a bit off-putting. Ketchup and tortilla chips is never not going to be a weird combination.

Yo, do y’all remember the story of the Three Little Pigs?

Well, here’s a recap in case you recently fell off of a train of something.

Basically, there are these three anthropomorphic pigs that get kicked out of their house by their mother because they are probably all like 22 and have degrees in Philosophy or Russian Literature and don’t have jobs. Anyway, the titular three pigs travel out in the world and decide that they each need some new digs.

Two of the pigs, who apparently have never seen an actual house, each decide to erect crude little shelters out of straw and sticks respectively. The third pig, and possibly the only one that never received a traumatic brain injury in his youth, builds his using bricks like a champ. Eventually a hungry wolf arrives whose plan of attack, loudly announcing his arrival while blowing as hard as he can on each home, easily destroys the first two lousy shelters. Not wanting to be eaten, the first two pigs run to the smarter, craftier third pig and seek shelter in his house, which, because it’s basically a brick fortress, keeps them all safe. Hooray!

The moral of this little story is clear: You can get by in a group by being completely and utterly useless as long as at least one of you has their shit together.

Chex Mix, much like the Three Little Pigs, is similarly plagued by certain members who cannot carry their own weight. While greatly enjoyable as a whole, those dry, squiggly breadsticks and boring circular pretzels are clearly the straw and stick houses in this analogy. And, even though those zesty bagel chips can usually be a crowd pleaser, I have always felt that the true beauty of Chex Mix lies in the Chex themselves, and their flawless evolution from breakfast cereal to snack food.

But dammit, it’s 2014 and it appears Chex is finally ready to make moves in the snack department sans its slightly less enticing compadres, and the beautiful result is Chex Chips.

Let’s be honest, when I first saw this new snack at my local 7-Eleven (in the following four flavors: Caramelized Onion, Cinnamon and Sugar, Cheddar Jalapeno, and Wasabi) I had a few questions. How can my familiar Chex cereal pieces be transformed into a chip? How big are we talking here? Did I really ever want my Chex to taste like wasabi?

Scouring the front packaging for details, I was provided with only the following description, beneath the large printed Chex Chips logo:

“GIANT CHIPS. NO MIX.”

Personally, I take the purposeful capitalization of these two short, direct sentences as a sign that this text should probably be read in the brutish voice of Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson. And, like The Rock himself, Chex Chips similarly appear to be significantly roided-up. Upon opening the bag, the texture of Chex Chips is a wonderfully effective hybrid somewhere between the puffiness of Bugles and the crispiness of the late (and well missed) Doritos 3D. Much less flimsy than their breakfast cereal brethren, these giant Chex seemed perfect for transporting each specific delicious flavor.

Let’s break it all down.

First, I began with the Caramelized Onion flavor. Yeah that’s right, caramelized onion. Did Bobby Flay whip these gourmet creations up on Iron Chef? Probably. Can you serve these at your next fancy gala or museum opening? Probably. Does a caramelized onion simply mean a cooked, browned onion? Probably. Was the name of this flavor an attempt to hide that fact they basically taste just like a sour cream and onion flavor minus the sour cream? Probably. Were they still shamelessly delicious? … Yes.

Next, I moved onto the Cinnamon and Sugar variety because, well, I like both of those things. Ignoring the fact that the pile of sugar with accompanying tubes of cinnamon displayed on the front of this bag look suspiciously like someone is ready for an 80s cocaine binge, this may have been my favorite flavor of the bunch and I strongly recommend it. Allow me to consider the reasons: They tasted like delicious churros. I like delicious churros. I liked this flavor. If you like delicious Churros you will also like this flavor. (See… it all adds up)

Moving along, I next tried the Cheddar Jalapeño flavor. Already pleased with the previous two flavors, I was not surprised when this variety blew my idiomatic pants off. Underneath its delightfully fiery kick; there is an impressive amount of real flavor. I’m a bit tired of the recent trend of using heat as a shield to cover up lousy taste, so it’s a welcomed surprise when spicy flavors such as this benefit from a good combination of the two.

Finally, this left me with the flavor that I had largely been anticipating, Wasabi. It has always surprised me that, despite the already established and steadily growing popularity of sushi restaurants, wasabi has made very few permanent appearances in American mainstream snack foods. Sure it might pop up as limited edition flavor, like sriracha, but it seems there are very few consistent outlets for this flavor. And, truthfully, it’s a shame. Yet, the taste of these Chex Chips have captured an essential part of what makes wasabi such a popular condiment; that perfect combination of spiciness and distinct flavor. I hope these chips stick around because they are impressively good.

In fact, Chex Chips as a whole are all surprisingly the crème de la crème of the usual 7-Eleven pickins’, and my hopes for the longevity of the Wasabi flavor spreads to Chex Chips as a whole.

(Now, I just want to see those bagel chips get the right idea and go solo too).

(Nutrition Facts – 1 pouch – Caramelized Onion – 200 calories, 100 calories from fat, 11 grams of fat, 1 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 320 milligrams of sodium, 0 milligrams of potassium, 25 grams of carbohydrates, less than 1 gram of fiber, 2 grams of sugar, and 2 grams of protein Cinnamon and Sugar – 200 calories, 90 calories from fat, 11 grams of fat, 1 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 250 milligrams of sodium, 0 milligrams of potassium, 26 grams of carbohydrates, less than 1 gram of fiber, 5 grams of sugar, and 2 grams of protein. Cheddar Jalapeno – 200 calories, 100 calories from fat, 11 grams of fat, 1 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 380 milligrams of sodium, 0 milligrams of potassium, 25 grams of carbohydrates, less than 1 gram of fiber, 2 grams of sugar, and 2 grams of protein. Wasabi – 200 calories, 100 calories from fat, 11 grams of fat, 1 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 320 milligrams of sodium, 0 milligrams of potassium, 25 grams of carbohydrates, less than 1 gram of fiber, 2 grams of sugar, and 2 grams of protein.)

Item: Chex Chips (Caramelized Onion, Cinnamon and Sugar, Cheddar Jalapeño, and Wasabi)
Purchased Price: $1.49 each
Size: 42 gram bag
Purchased at: 7-Eleven
Rating: 8 out of 10 (Caramelized Onion)
Rating: 9 out of 10 (Cinnamon and Sugar)
Rating: 8 out of 10 (Cheddar Jalapeño)
Rating: 9 out of 10 (Wasabi)
Pros: The chips themselves were way tastier than I had anticipated. Large portion size. Interesting variety.
Cons: I have only seen them that one time I was at the 7-Eleven at two in the morning and I knocked over a gallon of milk and the store clerk looked at me funny and now I don’t want to go back there even during the day when he probably doesn’t even have a shift.