Showing posts with label Asian Inspired. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Asian Inspired. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

Vitasia Wasabi Chips

            What follows is a first-encounter-with-Wasabi story, followed by a review.  Many people have mixed feelings about Wasabi, the Japanese horse-radish like plant that is often served as paste to accompany sushi.  Many lust for its intensly spicy sensation, it’s flamethrower like effect on the nostrils, its exotic mustard-like aroma.  But many have been hurt by Wasabi.  Badly.  So badly, they swear off Wasabi and believe it their mission to shelter all innocents from its piquant embrace.  This is a tragedy, but even more terrible is their spreading of these repressive anti-wasabi teachings, thereby preventing others from realizing their own spicy Aspian bliss.

Wasabi plant being converted into Wasabi
paste.  A dissapointing fact: most
'wasabi' products (paste, powder, etc.) are
 not actually made from wasabi, but rather
 a mix of horseradish, mustard powder
 and green dye. Like the characters in
the Matrix, we have no idea what reality
 tastes like; but at least the approximation
 is good...
            My history with wasabi began ten years ago, while I was working on a human trafficking internship for the International Rescue Committee in Phoenix, Arizona, and living away from everyone I knew in a small apartment by myself.  My mom, being a quintessential mom, sent me packages.  The first one that arrived included an assortment of books, baked cookies, and some garishly multi-colored canisters that looked like they should hold tennis balls.  But no, they were cans full of Wasabi peas.  So eating all by myself in my lonely Phoenix apartment is how I discovered Wasabi- and also played through 80% of Baldur’s Gate II.

They look so innocent...
            Wasabi (or more realistically, what we associate as being wasabi- see the caption above) is great- it packs a dry hot burn like a desert khamseen that can really scorch the nostrils if you’re not careful.  One of the first things my partner Erin taught me was a trick to avoid the dread eye-watering nose-burn: inhale continuously through the nose after eating, and you shall know no pain.  Erin remains a much bigger wasabi fiend than I.

Khamseen: a hot, dry, dusty windstorm
of the sort common in North Africa. See
also: your nostrils after eating a hand full
of wasabi peas...
            Considering how long it’s been slathered and sprinkled on other kinds of dried snacks, it’s only fitting that I’ve started coming across some Wasabi potato chips in Western markets- really, the idea should have been popularized way sooner.  But leave it to Lidl, the German discount chain, to randomly to acquire some overstocked ‘Asian-Food’-Actually-Made-in-Europe and flood the local store with it.  We were not too impressed by the Bami Goreng box on sale by the same company, (too salty), but the Wasabi chips did not disappointment.

Baldur's Gate II : the game that forced you
to resolve catfights between a widowed
druidess looking for a rebound
 relationship and an elf circus freak
 with flightless wings eager to have
your babies- while dealing with a
politico-religious succession crisis
 in an aquatic  kingdom of shark men. 
Seriously.
            The crisps themselves are a pretty green in color, as one would expect, and the flavoring is no more and no less than what you’d expect.  They taste absolutely like real wasabi, and inspired me to cram my mouth to get one more blistering hit, but I should note that the burnination was generally under control.  The chips are spicy, but less likely to set you on fire inside-out than the Wasabi peas I cut my egg-teeth on, or other Wasabi-related things I have eaten.  Overall, this is probably a good thing, but it will disappoint anyone craving the firepower to sterilize their sinuses.
Not enough Burnination to please
Trogdor, for better or worse. 
But if you need more,
here's a guide...
           
The potato slices themselves were kind of unimpressive- standard Lay’s chips that are ultra-thin and not particularly crunchy.  They still did their job, but I believe I would have enjoyed them more if the crisps hadn’t been as flimsy as paper cranes in a hurricane.  So, I don’t doubt that other manufacturors have gone ahead and formulated Wasabi chips, and if they are at least as good as the ones by Vitasia, I definitely recommend trying them out.  The idea is so obvious and intrinsically worthwhile that the product itself doesn’t have to be of super high quality to still provide a welcome surprise fireball cleansing for their taste buds and nose hairs.

Stars: 3/4
Spiciness: Hot
Pros:
- Delivers the classic-Wasabi flavor, just like you’d want it
- Adequate flavoring, adequate heat-
- Chips are as pretty green as leprechaun lasses

Cons:
- Strictly no frills
- Rather weak in texture

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Chio Premium Moments Egzotikus Indonez Fuszerezesu

Apparently, you can also have
a 'premium moment' eating
Cheddar in London or Balsamic
vinegar in Venice judging by the
2 other products in the line.
(Exotic Oriental Flavoring)

Not many snack food products go so far as to promise you ‘memorable moments’ within their foil-wrapped package, but Chio is clearly so confident of their baby that they’re unashamed to do so with their ‘Premium’ line of chips.  They helpfully illustrate the moment they are trying to capture with some Asian architecture in the background of the package art and an eerily backlit purple sky, while the interior of the package has shiny gold foil.  Clearly these are meant to remind you of how it felt to be a gothy ninja apprentice outside a pagoda, meditating in the supernatural silence of a gathering storm about to unleash an invasion of tengu.

From "Warriors through the Ages" circa 3100:
starting in the second half of the 20th century
the secret Ninja clans of Nippon widely
adopted school girl uniforms, understanding
that the cuteness and easily injured hearts of
young students were the perfect incubators for
horrific acts of clandestine violence and tearful
philosophical monologues.
Unfortunately, I missed all of these subtle insinuations or the clearly written words in Magyar ‘Egzotikus Indonez Fuszerezesu’, because I was in Hungary, damn it, and I can neither read the language or fail to notice the obvious spicy bowl full of Paprika on the cover.  Only days later did I realize these were not ‘Paprika’ chips but ‘Exotic Oriental’ chips, though they just happen to have Paprika in the ingredients.  Oh well.  To add further insult to injury, there actually are 'Premium Moments' Paprika chips, helpfully illustrated with an image of Budapest on the cover.

But why am I complaining, these are great, and way better than other ‘Paprika chips’ I’ve had, delivering an assortment of seasoning sensations, while keeping it classy (not that I have anything against things which are not!)  Simply smelling them will assail you with a rainbow assortment of herbs- Clover, Ginger, Coriander, Paprika, Chili, All Spice (yes, ‘All Spice’, not “all spices,” but there are many in the list, it is true…) all make their presence known to contribute to a diverse assortment of flavors.   
The chips are also strongly garlicky, and there is enough pepper thrown in to create a modest spicy burn, but not enough to injure any delicate sensibilities.  I should finish by noting that the potatoes themselves definitively contribute, and while I don’t usually place much emphasis on ‘tasting the potato’, I was impressed these crisps managed to so deftly balance the flavor of the potato and the seasoning without neglecting either.
'All spice' is actually made from just
one kind of seed grown originally in the
equatorial Americas and Caribbean.  The
English explorers who encountered it
thought it tasted like 3 others types of
spices, and named it in a matter that
would forever deny its uniqueness.

My earlier experiences with Chio chips, while not unpleasant, left me a little underwhelmed by the quality of the crisps themselves- surely their Premium chips would offer better?  In fact, they did demonstrate genuine quality, proving crunchy and well roasted, and prettily colored red by the seasoning without use of artificial dyes.  However, this was somewhat overshadowed by the extremely small size of the crisps themselves, which generally fell between 1.5” to 2” in diameter.  At that size, you’re practically forced to eat several at once.  Maybe those extra small potatos they are using are intrinsically more flavorful?  (The back of the bag outrageously claims they only use ‘extra-large potatoes’ and ‘large crisp sizes’, which makes me wonder what they consider to be small ones.  Anyone can clearly see these are significantly smaller than their regular line of potato chips- my upcoming review of their Tzazikki sauce chips includes a picture of a real monster.)
I was going to conclude by saying they were the best Paprika flavored chips I’ve ever had, but as they aren’t technically Paprika chips, we have to rate them against other Asian chips, and here I must confess to preferring the stronger flavors (spicier and sweeter, especially) epitomized by Kettle’s Spicy Thai or Wai Lana’s Lime Chili chips.  And yet, these crisps exist beautifully on the other side of the spectrum for those who prefer a more subtle herb-and-spices-oriented experienced, and who really wish to enjoy the taste of the potato as well as the toppings themselves.  Without a doubt, the best not-Paprika chips I’ve ever had.

Stars: 3 Stars
Spiciness: Moderate
Pros:
- Beautiful mix of varied and piquant spices, including more than a little garlic and a pinch of spice
- The flavor of the potatoes is ably balanced with the seasoning
- Beautiful and crunchy crisps
Cons:
- Crisps are very small, forcing one to eat several at once
- Impressive, but more subtle than other Asian-spices themed chips

Saturday, August 13, 2011

Wai Lana Lime Chili

We now come to the final chapter of what has been my epic odyssey exploring Wai Lana’s line of mysterious Yogi concocted health chips.  The penultimatechapter in this chip-reviewing epic was dark indeed, leaving me in doubt whether the last bag could possibly prevail in the face of the stomach-disturbing past.  But I should call this last review the Return of the Yogi, because this final episode establishes the crisps are back in awesome light-saber slashing form, and finally deliver as many colors of flavor as there were spaceships in the Battle of Endor.  In short, these are the Thai-flavored crisps I was waiting for.
There were alot of ships.  So many
the rebels ran out of colors to name
their squadrons after.

As creepy as it will appear if you are in a public space, I recommend smelling the inside of the bag upon opening.  You may sound like Darth Vader on a bad-breathmask day, but you won’t care because you will be inhaling the heady aromas of curried Thai cooking direct, and without a heat source.  Do remember to exhale, however.

Also, Dennis Hopper in Blue Velvet...
As soon as you have been revived by your friends, you may observe that we are once again returning to the by now classic yucca chips made with tapioca flower, softly crunchy, reasonably large, and pleasantly dimpled for maximum saliva pooling pleasure.  The crispy semi-translucent wafers are covered with a gorgeous layer of red and green seasoning flanks, but unlike the Sweet Chili & Lime chips I tried earlier, you can actually taste it all as well.

Praxis- what happens when you exploit
the shit out of your planet.  Historical
note: Star Trek VI was the first movie
to use the 'blast ring' effect that has since
gone into general use and been needlessly
inserted into the Star Wars special edition.
By all petty gods of Lankhmar I swear that these chips are packed full of flavoring, hitting all the buttons at once in a flavor-xplosion the like of which has not been seen since the Klingon moon of Praxis exploded, forcing the Empire to make peace with the Federation.  Seriously, everything found in Thai cuisine has been thrown in here in a bag full of mind-blasting awesomeness: there are large sea-salt grains that deliver a savory shock as startling as pepper, there are rich brown morsels of cane sugar that offer an almost lyrical sweetness, there are multiple stinging spices (pepper among them) that enflame the tongue and sack the back of your throat as thoroughly as the staff responsible for the credits in Monty Python's the Holy Grail, and through it all, lime oil has been used with brilliant effectiveness to grant these chips the tangy aura of a dish full of Thai noodles covered in freshly squeezed lime juice.  A considerable number of supporting spices beyond those I just mentioned are also involved, including shallots and sesame seeds for certain, and what I guess to be curry.
You can practically taste the lime
juice on those noodles, making them
as slippery, sour, and slurpy as sex.


What is most commendable about the flavoring is the way the salt, sugar, and spices hit you in discrete clumps instead of a single homogenous flavor.  While sometimes I find such a distribution a cause for complaint, here it adds piquancy to the experience as you alternate between bites of sweetness, saltiness, and spiciness; the flavors are intense enough to stand on their own and last long enough in the mouth to overlap into the next bite.  The sour lime taste, by contrast, is consistent throughout the chips, and truly lovely (though a likely turn off for the sour-averse.)

These crisps feel like an epic conclusion and fitting reward for my previous exploration of the Wai Lana chips, and by far offer the best flavor-synthesis of those I have tried and the greatest diversity in seasonings I’ve had in a considerable time.  For anyone with a fondness for Thai cooking, or for any combination of intense and flavorful food, Irecommend this specific variety (so similarily labeled to the other flavors I’ve tried!) which shares clear parallels with Kettle Chips’ own opus in Thai-inspired Chips.  The Yogi finally took out the can of whoop-ass and showed what they were made of- spicy, sweet, and sour!

Stars: 3½
Spiciness Rating: Moderate-to-Spicy

Pros:
- Crisps are beautiful and agreeable to munch on, and you can actually taste the pretty seasonings on the crisps this time!
- A multitude of flavors and spices as diverse as the alien gangsters in Jabba's Palace
- Genuinenly spicy at times
- Lovely lime-oil flavor the beautiful constent in the curried cavalcade of spices and flavorings

Cons:
- If you don't appreciate sour or spicy, these are not for you.


Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Wai Lana Thai Curry and Lime

Like the disturbing surprise ending of a favorite TV show, today’s review marks the point where once pleasantly enjoyable series takes a completely out-of-character turn for the intensely dark.  And who could have seen it coming from so promising and upstanding a product as Wai Lana’s Thai Curry and Lime, made of yucca chips seasoned with coconut powder, shallot leaf, cane sugar, an array of curry seasonings?  Surely I should be handing out accolades and awards!  
 
The faithful emulation of the taste of bile in my mouth, however, is just a little too authentic.  In my many written excesses, I have never before stooped to describing my subjects as tasting like vomit, because by and large crisps rarely taste worse than uninspired and boring- crisps that are actually icky in some manner are few and far between.
No joke here: do yourself a favor and
obtain for your mouth an actual Thai curry.
Certainly, these new Wai Lana crisps enter the mouth with just as much promise as the earlier ones I reviewed, exuding a piquant aroma of curry and other assorted spices that, while unfashionable in their intensity, would seem to be precisely the sort of stronger and more authentic flavorings I have always passionately advocated.  The crisps are soft, crunchy, and mildly sweet making them a good compliment for the concept.  Yes, they are even spicy, burning pleasantly in the back of the throat, though I’m not sure that there’s any Lime flavoring to speak of from what I can taste.

As the seasonings percolate through your mouth, however, you realize at first that they are decidedly odd and off setting, and then suddenly they are odd and off-setting in a familiar way, reminiscent your mouth after that nauseatingly long car drive after the thanksgiving meal which didn’t quite set in your gut.  The burn at the back of your throat starts to seem less like some charming spice and more like the acrid sensation of stomach acids in attack mode, located north of where they should be.

 On the well-established principle that a rich and respected perpetrator should be offered superior consideration to a poor victim, I feel compelled to still award these chips a full star, even though I found myself shuddering at the thought of consuming even one more for the purely scientific purposes of this review.  The reason for my lenience: these do boldly go where no man has gone befor- attempt to deliver certain spicy sensations that are too extreme for my fragile western palette, but just because I can’t stand them doesn’t mean they mightn’t appeal to a person of more radical, or at least, curried tastes.  Those of you who think you can take it, give it a try and report back to me- or try eating durian.
Stars: 1/4
Spiciness: Moderate

Pros:
- Crisps are softly crunchy, offer excellent surface area
- Properly spicy as they well should be
- Authentic tasting seasonings
Cons:
- The seasonings end up tasting odd and off putting
- When combined with spicy sensation, the seasonings start to resemble bile
- No lime flavoring in evidence

Thursday, June 30, 2011

Wai Lana Yogi Chips Sweet and Sour

I was rather expecting that there would be a certain consistency in my reviews of the Yogi Chips, and like reviewing Doritos, there would come to be little need to make note of the texture of the chips while all the variation would occur in terms of flavoring.  This illusion was pleasantly dispelled when I opened my bag of Sweet and Sour chips and discovered that they not only featured a different shape and consistency, but were also markedly more flavorful than my previous experience.
Asia's answer to chicken McNuggets.

Now, I’ve always been fond of Sweet andSour sauce (and soup!) in Asian cuisine.  Admittedly, if you order sweet and sour chicken, you will end up with chicken drenched in red sauce with perhaps a mild hint of a citrusy tang- what’s not to like?  The sour element tends to be underplayed, so it’s like eating shredded chicken or pork in a swimming pool of red syrup- so basically, sweet and sour chicken is Asia’s answer to McNuggets in ketchup.

Who doesn't like a steamy tart?
By contrast, when you open the bag with the smiling Polynesian looking woman, the odors sumptuously wafting up from its foil confines will inform you that these crisps bring the sour back into sweet and sour.  The tangy lemony smell is evocative of aforementioned gleaming red chicken puffing hot vapor on a plate before you like a steamy girlfriend, and tantalizes the nostrils of any one who enjoys a little tartness in their cuisine (or romantic partners).

The crisps share the same rice and tapioca base as the Sweet Chili & Lime chips I reviewed earlier, but are notably thicker and crunchier (in a good way) and shaped like small circular pototo crisps rather than the curled-rectangle Frito-forms I had expected from the earlier product.  While there was nothing wrong with the earlier type, the additional firmness does crackle more satisfyingly in the mouth and distinguishes the crisps from the soft textures of breakfast cereal, for good or ill.

Trivia question: Have you ever
spilled the Sweet and Sour sauce
in your Chinese take out, making a gory
mess of your Asian fast food?  If your
answer rhymes with 'mess' you're being
honest.
While there is no sparkly coating of spices like on the Sweet Chili and Lime chips, in its place you get a great deal more flavor!  The crisps taste mildly sweet at first, before blossoming on the tongue into a rising tide of tangy citrus like a tsunami wave of lemon juice.  The sourness is by no means overpowering, but does predominate over the sweeter aspects, to the likely disappointment of the sweet-and-sour-sauce-as-ketchup school, but making them more rewarding for those who appreciate citrus and or vinegar in their crispy snacks.  My wife suggested that they tasted like egg rolls dipped in sweet and sour sauce, which actually makes sense if you consider the commonalities between the crispy egg rolls and crunchy chipswith the tangy-sweet flavoring.

All in all, I rather liked these, though like actual sweet and sour sauce, the flavoring isn’t too subtle and doesn’t include many nuances other than that pleasant mouth-trip from mild-sweet to tangy-sour.  The crisps are robust and compliment the flavoring well, and I should emphasize that for all it leans on its citrusy aspects, it is not overpowering

Stars: 2½/4
Spiciness Rating: None

Pros:
- Tangy citrus aroma is not at all shy in announcing it gloriously tart presence
- Mildly sweet flavoring ushers in the sour and compliments it pleasantly
- Crisps are pleasantly crunchy and well shaped

Cons:
- True to the sauce it imitates, lacking in subtle nuances and spices
- Some might prefer a greater weight on the ‘sweet’ aspects of sweet and sour

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

News Flash: American reinforcements land in France in June- history repeats itself!

When my mom asked me what American products she could pack for me for when she visited us in France, aside from my laundry list of geekiness, she suggested chips.  “But what kind?” she asked.  “Anything exotic looking…” I requested breezily.

Well, mothers do not fail, and when I next saw her in her hotel in the 7em Arrondisement, she had one tube of Ragin’ Cajun Xtreme Pringles (making it the second product I will have reviewed making references to the temper of our Louisianan swamp-folk) and a host of exotic Wai Lana South-Asian themed corn-tapioca-chip things.  Motherly Mission Acomplished!

Now, Wai Lana apparently makes a business out of selling bamboo mats and making yoga instruction videos, which is more my parent’s cup of tea, but apparently healthy gluten-free organic chips are a part of the enlightened meditative life style.  Rather than the kindly face of a sage Indian Yogi, the packages all display an alluring south-east Asian island girl apparently inviting you to a day on the beach with cocktails.  Score one for the marketing department!

Now, I figured these chips might not seem as attainable as other products here, but their website ()lists distributors in Australia, Canada, Hungary, Korea, Mexico, Slovenia, and the UK, as well as the rest of Europe through HMV and Virgin.  Sadly, the website doesn’t enumerate the American distributors, but the ones my mom found was in the little exotic snack section of a Marshall's, and presumably there are plenty more places that have them as well.

In general, these crisps have a running rice-and-tapioca texture which is kind of unique, but the shape, hardness, and, of course, flavoring of the crisps has varied substantially between the two I’ve tried so far.  Below, you can see my first review of the Whole Grain Sweet Chili & Lime flavor, soon to be followed by a review of the Sweet and Sour variety.

Wai Lana Yogi Chips Whole Grain Sweet Chili & Lime

Having just received by Mom-in-person-delivery a foursome of exotic chips, I wasn’t sure what to expect when I eagerly ripped open Wai Lana’s Sweet Chili and Lime Yogi chips.  They were indeed depicted on the packaging in some detail, but I couldn’t tell if they were corn chips or rice crackers from the resolution of the cover image.  When I produced my first crisp from the bag, little did I realize that I was in store for some cinnamon toast crunch flashbacks.

Cinnamon Toast crunch
in all its buttery glory!
Yogi chips- note their
significant girth in comparison
to my thumb, and their similarity
to you-know-what.  No, not
Voldemort.
I say this with fondness rather than any deep set trauma.  Cinnamon Toast Crunch cereal flakes are basically dimpled rectangles of wheat and rice, richly lathered with a crystalline coating of sparkling sugar and cinnamon in a genuinely eye pleasing river of sweetness.  They were exactly the kind of unhealthy over-sweetened cereal that my mom would never have permitted within a mile of the kitchen cabinet, so that I had to wait until a study abroad trip in Poland in a host’s pantry to do the dirty, sugar-coated deed.  They were expensive as cereals went in Poland, costing about a $1.60 (5 zloty at the time), but I made sure to acquire more along with the pierogies, golumpki, and zurek.

As you may have intuited, the Yogi chips feature the same light-weight crunchy texture, (in this case made with corn and tapioca of all things!), though larger on average at around 3 centimeters long and 2 wide.  And yes, they are coated with a river of South Asian themed spices which truly entice the eye and promise rapturous orgies of tingling spice and sugar.

Like this, but more full of spice.  Yet, for all the glitter and
glamour, you may find the decadent pleasures taste hollow
on the inside.
Alas, these sweet promises were, quite lierally, not to be realized.  While the crisps are delightful to crunch and surprisingly substantial, the flavoring seems to dance around the edges of the tongues but never delivers a clear statement of sweet or salty on the center (and you do remember the lessons on the functioning of various taste buds from elementary school, right?)  These are not sweet chips with chili, but flavored with ‘sweet chili’- apparently a major difference. 

Like a historical movie epic that boasts excellent production values and a truly exotic setting but fails to deliver much of a main plot, the chips have a lot charming aspects despite their major central shortcoming.  There are delightful side plots, flavorful notes of ginger and the titular sweet pepper, a mild but tantalizing spicy tingle in the back of the throat, a generally tropical atmosphere of ambient lime juice, and an undercurrent of very mild sweetness.

Indian Jones 5: Jaws versus ET.  Which
one will the mega-shark swallow first?
But for all the beautiful trimmings, there is no main story.  They are not sweet chips, nor are they salty chips- they are plain chips with a few spicy accents and notes, but no main theme.  Give me a nicely leit-motif ridden 1980s John Williams over the unrelated discordance of an avant garde movie score!  As such, I can imagine they might appeal to some that dislike strong seasonings, but wouldn’t mind some more subtle spicy accents.  Those who demand a definitive statement of sweetness or saltiness should look elsewhere, though.

The packages boasts that the chips have 40% less fat and made of whole grain, and indeed at 105 calories (of which 1/3 are fat) these are markedly more healthy when compared to regular chips.  The ingredient list is also as distinguished as a supporting British ensemble cast for an action movie: Mung Beans, chili, sea salt, natural lime juice.  The only mystery is how they failed to produce something more exciting with such organic talent at its disposal, but the movie industry does it all the time, eh?

We can only imagine that behind
that inscrutable, emotionless mask
lies a soul seething with inner
turmoil.  Or drugs.
All in all, I rated these somewhat leniently with an average score.  Just as I feel a certain appreciation for the Matrix Revolutions, for all of its many disappointment, these crisps, aside from their major fault in lacking a strong central flavor, are genuinely unique in their cereal-like glory, relatively healthy, and feature some compelling supporting performances even if the dramatic lead blasés Keanu.  Anybody looking for crunchy and plain whole grain crisps with a small side of exotic spices may soon find themselves bending spoons with their mind and dressing up like a latex-fetishist.  Yoga is supposed to give you super powers after all, and nothing can make the world bend to your will like absolute self confidence and the inability to be embarassed.

Stars: 2/4
Spiciness Rating: Mild

Pros:
- Delightfully light but crunchy corn-and-tapioca texture reminiscent of cereal
- Beautiful sparkling coating of salt and spices slathered along the length of fairly large crisps
- Elegant notes of lime, ginger, salt, and spicy chili pepper

Cons:
- No major sweet or salty flavor-despite the supporting spices, the chips are predominantly bland rather than one or the other

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Kettle Spicy Thai Potato Chips

            Kettle Brand’s Spicy Thai chips are basically exemplary of the sort of chips that make a chip blog worth writing, the sort of unique alchemy of brilliant, complex flavoring and kettle-cooked potato slices that reach the height of creative perfection.  I can keep on gushing like an art student that just discovered Basquiat for quite a while, because this product boasts so many delightful touches and flavors on top of its solid bedrock of thick-sliced kettle chip quality.
They forgot the white peppers!
            The intent here was to capture the flavor of Thai food, which I am myself a great fan of, though it probably will not please anyone that doesn’t enjoy intense, spicy flavors.  The Thai connection is established through the use of ginger, lime, and (fanciest of all) elements of cilantro.  The chips themselves have a light base coating of honey powder that is pleasantly mild and unobtrusive, salt, and some subtly applied lime oil (especially subtle in comparison to, say, Hint-of-Lime Tortilla chips.)  On top of those are the major flavor accents: ginger, which is the most pervasive and exotic, flecks of cilantro that give a nice herbal zest to the chips and are themselves visible on the chips, garlic, and finally a delightful assortment of spicy peppers (the ingredients list clarifies that there are four different kinds involved: Jalapeno, habanero, cayenne, and white pepper!)  Yes, with that many peppers, especially the mighty habanero, these chips are pretty spicy, not the slow-burn type of spicy, but something you will notice right away!  However, I don’t want to give the impression that these are “painful-spicy”- as long as you don’t stuffy a dozen down your mouth at once, no harm will occur.  This is exactly the sort of spiciness, in fact, that too few other chips dare to offer
            The combination of these strong and very distinct spices makes these chips a delight to experience, and even the base coating of mild-sweet and crusty salt serve as useful counterpoint to the various flavors rather remaining as simple boilerplate.  The fact that these spices are offered on beautiful thick-cut white potatoes full of lovely air bubbles and textured as thickly as a novel by Tolstoy are what help this product achieve perfection.  I’ve been saddened lately to see this product on so few store shelves, and I hope they remain there for a while, because it achieves a perfect marriage of technical perfection and gastronomic creativity that few other products achieve.

Stars: 4/4
Spiciness Level: Hot!

Pros:

If Raging Inferno mode is activated,
the demon will attempt to ravage
your soul, or at least your
sinuses.

-Wonderfully complex multi-layered flavoring
-Evocative of Thai cooking, which is both awesome and fairely unique when it comes to snack food
-Excellent foundation of thick sliced, well textured kettle-cooked potato chips
-Spicy hot, but not to the detriment of flavor or the destruction of taste buds. Eat them slow for a controlled burn, or indulge in a frenzy for the “Raging Inferno” mode.
-Did I mention there were four different kinds of peppers involved?

Cons:
-Not for those who dislike ginger, Thai food, or spicy things