Ballreich’s Marcelled Smokey Sweet Mesquite Potato Chips

       One of the most rewarding aspects of writing this blog is all the opportunities to expand my knowledge and vocabulary.  When I was sitting down to write this review and trying to decide in which order to write the title for the review (as the presentation on the package, ‘Sweet Mesquite Smokey Ballreich’s Marcelled Potato Chips’, didn’t quite flow to my satisfaction), I suddenly realized I had no idea what ‘Marcelled’ meant.  Well, I had a suspicion, so off I went to Google.

Hair style invented in France in 1872
by Francois Marcel.

          Of course, Marcell refers to a “hairstyle characterized by deep regular waves made by a heated curling iron.” That would describe a large portion of the do’s on the swarms of ladies walking outside my apartment, coming to avail themselves to Paris’s premier African hair salon district.  But it also refers to Ruffled chips with wider and deeper trenches in between each ruffle than usual.  Think, wide as a ridge-cut French fries!

I wasn't exagerating about where I live- every one of those is either a hair
salon or a wig vendor.  I regularly walk on shed diva
hair every morning.  Ah, Paris!

         Needless to say, Ballreich’s chips are precisely of this variety, and all the more charming for it.  Each of the blonde potato chips is large and fairly thick, but in a soft-crunch rather than hard-cracking way.  The long, lazy waves on the chip’s surface happily channel the tongue to lap up the flavored goods, which are admittedly intriguing.

Note the marcelled waves.  A guy found
God in his potato chip bag, because
what else could possily explain a random
cross shaped hole and Jesus fish shaped
burn in a potato chip? With only a gazillion
chips out there, certainly not probability.

           Ballreich’s Mesquite chips reminded me of the sweet molasses flavoring of Grippo’s Barbecue chips, which is high praise considering my stunned enjoyment of that product.  However, Ballreich’s chips emphasize a different, saltier aroma, albeit with equal verve and intensity- the chips appeared to be cooked in, or seasoned, with shortening, aka, lard, and the pervasive salty-fat taste makes the chips taste as if they were fried on a salt pan full of rib-meat and bacon drippings.  (The ingredients list clarifies that the chips are cooked in ‘soybean shortening’, but like many other products derived from the protein substitute, it definitely proves convincing!) That the shortening is soaked inside the chips, rather than applied on top, makes it all the more pervasive, 

Molasses, it must be admitted, looks
suspiciously like the alien ichor in
Promtheus.  Maybe that's why it never
quite caught on as much as honey...

        The downside of the flavoring is that it does bring the chips heavily on the salty side, and some may feel the evocation of lard on the grill is a little disturbing.  (For what it’s worth, the chips have an average number of calories, but an above average number coming from fat.)    The seasoning does, nonetheless, deliver the entirety of the barbecue experience, with mesquite spices (but not hot spices), a general smoky aroma, and those sweet molasses notes (the ingredients list includes molasses, onion, garlic, and paprika powder.) 

Let's admit it, lard can be
disturbing...

         Overall, I appreciated the unique stylings of these crisps, from their lovely marcelled soft-crunch potato slices, the soaked-to-the-bones shortening flavor, and the lovely notes of sweet molasses.  However, the other aspects of the barbecue flavoring are little further in the background than I would have liked- more spice and more sugar would have been a plus- and the saltiness and the fatty-tasting sensation has downsides as a chip flavoring.  As long as you can suppress the instinctive guilt at eating something which really tastes like it’s been soaked in salty, delicious fat, you may still find Ballreich’s fashionably-cut crisps worth giving a try.

Stars: 3/4

Spiciness Rating: Very Mild

Pros:

- Remarkable lard-shortening flavor pervades the foundations of each crisp

- Large marcelled chips with a crumbly soft crunch are pleasure to munch

- Sweet molasses notes in the seasoning distinguish these from regular barbecue chips

Cons:

- At times a little too salty, and the sweeter aspects of the barbecue seasoning get a short shrift

- The shortening flavor may possibly be a turn off for some

Route 11 Mama Zuma’s Revenge Habanero Potato Chips

Image courtesy of JunkFoodGuy
who has a very comprehensive
analysis of the packaging.

Let's be honest, for some books or movies the cover or poster alone is worth the price of admission, so ridiculously awesome (or awesomely ridiculous) that whatever follows can only at best complament the outrages insinuated.  How could this not be the case for Mama Zuma’s chips- the word ‘epic’ was misappropriated by pop culture for this very reason!

Zuma is dripping with crackling allure and a take-no-prisoners mystique, draped in a hot pepper bandolier and a revolutionary flag somewhat incongruously bearing a corporate logo rather than an anarchist slogan.  The back of the package explains that Zuma lost the love of her life in a ‘bizarre and tragic potato peeler accident’, which rather evokes Spock's attempt to con the New York police (see 0:43) by claiming his ears were the result of an encounter with a mechanical rice picker.  Now Zuma is “hell bent on burning every mouth she kisses with her special brand of passion”.  I can already see the Direct to DVD script writing itself, replete with explosions and catfights.  Machete, watch out, you have a competitor!

I SO want to see this movie.  Very slightly adapted
from Ludolf Backhuy's original oil paintaing...

As much as Route 11 may come off as being full on themselves with their “Warning: These chips are made with some of the hottest peppers on the planet” labels and assorted spicy food braggadocio, Zuma chips prove she’s no girly Sailor Moon and fully deserves her reputation for fiery badassitude.  These chips are exceptionally hot and spicy, and manage to pack in about as much flavor as possible on a chip thats set about burning away your taste buds from the get go.  Your mouth is Atlanta, and the chips are Sherman.



Sherman left Atlanta 100% more burnt
down than when he arrived, though
at least he didn't leave the population
inside while indulging his pyromania.

I’ve already discussed Jalapeno peppers in previous posts, but Habanero peppers are their more elite, more rarely encountered cousins: small, perfectly innocent-looking orange peppers that just happen to be one the most intensely spicy naturally-born peppers on the face of the earth.  Literally.  Habaneros also have their own distinct flavor from Jalapenos, (sweeter and less bitter overall), but they are so burning hot that one rarely is afforded much of a chance to notice it.



Habaneros look so dainty and cute for
something that can leave  you writhing
in pain.  The Red Savina Habanero was
claimed to be the hottest pepper on
Earth, but that title has been claimed 
later by others such as the Ghost Chili,
Naga Viper and the Trinidad Scorpion
among other names on what appears to
be a team of superheroes.

Let me be honest, just like you may feel the English Patient is a lovely movie but you wouldn’t recommend it for kids, Zuma’s chips are only going to be appropriate for two types of people: those who enjoy extremely spicy flavors, or those who enjoy a genuine test of their endurance.  Snack-eaters with a more limited capacity for setting a raging firestorm in your gills would be wise to stay away- every individual chip eaten alone packs a terrifying punch, and three or so in succession will leave a prolonged burn in your throat.



Though it does look like Count Lazlo
(Ralph Fiennes) may also have a turbulent
history with Mama Zuma as well...

The crisps themselves are quite small- ranging between 1 inch and 1.5 inches in diameter on average- though this is not really a great flaw because the individual chips are so densely packed with spices and flavor that more would be counterproductive and possibly dangerous for your mouth.  They are beautifully kettle-cooked, with a bubbly and crunchy texture, and slathered with thick orange seasonings.

This excellent photo courtesy
of Aleta fom the Omnomicon,
who actually offers a recipe of
baked chicken breasts covered
in Zuma's Revenge chips.

I hinted earlier that extremely spicy foods can limit the extent to which other flavors can be appreciated, and there is no doubt that the powerful habanero spices in Zuma’s Revenge predominate over the other seasonings on these chips. Nonetheless, those subtler flavors are still there to be appreciated- notes of salt and garlic, and a pleasing smoky aroma give a wonderfully sophisticated backdrop for the tongue-stomping in the foreground.  Furthermore, the distinct taste of the habanero pepper can be discerned, which is a rewarding surprise in and of itself.

Anyone looking to see how far they are willing to burn themselves for love of spicy sensations is well advised to give Zuma’s Revenge a shake.  Here, the incandescent thrills are matched with first-class supporting spices and kettle cooked potato rounds.  However, a slower pace of eating is advised, or that fiery fox will burn you to a crisp.

Stars: 3/4

...I wasn't kidding!  Although I would
personally be rather afraid to bite into
that delicious looking thing, considering
how spicy those chips are individually.

Spiciness Rating: Flaming Hot

Pros:

- Truly spicy Habanero challenge

-Excellent backdrop flavors of salt, garlic, and pepper

- Beautiful extra-crunchy crisps

Cons:

- Only good for those with a tolerance for intense spice

- The crisps are very small, and should be eaten slowly

Herr’s Baby Back Ribs Chips

        While my childhood was spent happily wolfing down large pork spare ribs in true American style, (something I have waxed enthusiastically about in earlier posts), in my later years I have come to favor “baby back ribs”, also known as Canadian ribs.  Contrary to what you might expect, baby back ribs do not come from actual babies, (no, not even Canadian babies), but are instead selected from the loin end of market weight hogs (as opposed to the usual sows).  Whereas a spare rib measures 6 to 8 inches in length (15 to 20 centimeters), baby back ribs measure from 3 to 6 inches (7.5 to 15cms), with a more favorable proportion of meat to gristle and bone.

Ripping the best bits of meat off spare ribs can
be an exhausting and gruesome task. This wolf
could probably use more sauce while she's at it...

Not only will feminists be happy to see male flesh commodified for a change, but anybody who has sunk their teeth into a spare rib knows it can take a bit of gnawing and worrying to yank off the choice bits; however, baby back ribs take away all the gnashing of teeth and give you pure tender meat that literally falls off the bone to melt in your salivating mouth. 

Baby back ribs, a bandolier of tasty hot meat
ready to shoot off in your mouth. 

Did I mention that baby back ribs make for far more manageable eating portions? Another side benefit is that the barbecue sauce tends to marinate the baby back ribs more thoroughly, as more of the meat and less of the bone is exposed.   Try ordering a half-rack of baby back at a quality rib house such as Rocklands in Glover Park, Washington DC and you may well come to agree that a more saucy and delicious (and messy) all American meal has yet to be invented.

So, I happened to be visiting a friend in Annapolis during my Christmas vacation when I noticed a bag of ‘Herr’s Babyback Rib Potato Chips’ on sale at the local Graul’s market, and immediately knew I had to test this claim.  Would I really be able to distinguish the length of the rib bone simply by sampling the seasoning of the chips?

Image courtesy of Junk Food Betty, who agrees
that while they may not actually be meat
flavored they are pretty damn tasty! 
Note the wide channels between the ruffles.

The answer is “No”, to be brutally honest.  These are not ‘meat’ flavored barbecue chips, they are ‘barbecue sauce’ flavored, exhibiting the traditional mélange of sweat, salty, and smoky.  Yet for all that, they were both original in flavor and utterly delicious.

The Baby Back Rib chips actually reminded me of Ballreich’s Smoky Marcelled Sweet Mesquite Barbecue chips- like that product, these are thick-cut ruffled chips with wide channels in between the ruffles and a sweet molasses barbecue flavor that is highly distinct from most other barbecue seasonings out there.  Whereas the Ballreich’s product emphasizes a sort of greasy lard-flavoring, Herr’s product instead offers strong elements of garlic and hot spices, upping the flavor ante for a pleasingly piquant and surprisingly complex flavor.  The seasoning is thickly and evenly applied on all the chips, coloring them a pretty orange color, and the sliced ruffled potato rounds are a delightfully thick cut, with a soft crunch which allow you to slowly sink your teeth in and savor their disintegrating grandeur.

So, score another victory for the Pennsylvanian chip industry; though these chips may not actually be ‘Baby Back” flavored per se, they are ‘amazingly delicious molasses barbecue with garlic and hot pepper” flavored instead, with super awesome ruffled potato slices to boot.  I’ll call that an amazing victory for my mouth any day, and my friends and I continued to savor the spoils of conquest for the 48 hours the full sized bag had chips left to offer, despite their failure to taste specifically like the soft derriere of a male pig.

Stars: 3½/4

Spiciness Rating: Moderate

Pros:

- Marcelled ruffled potato slices with a slow soft crunch that’s hard to surpass

- Unique molasses-barbecue flavoring that brings an original taste to a genre too full of generic imitators

- Wonderful supporting elements of spicy paprika, pepper, garlic, and smoke

Cons:

- Not actually ‘meat flavored’ or discernibly ‘baby back’

Note: Taquitos.net reports in its rather positive reivew that this product has been discontinued, but they were in stock in  mid-December 2011 and the Herr's web site still shows them as being available.

Grippo’s Maxi Snax Bar-B-Q Flavored Potato Chips

Image courtesy of
Taquitos.net, who also
rather fancied these.

           I’m usually enough of a latte-sipping ivory-tower elitist that I try to downplay my central Ohio origins, but there’s no getting around it- I spent 17 of the first 22 years of my life in either Columbus or around the college town of Yellow Springs (the latter experience putting my home state in oddly better perspective than growing up in the comparatively cosmopolitan capitol.) Ohio basically lies at the intersection between the industrial North East and the rural Midwest (personified by the bordering states of Michigan and Kentucky), and its long flat expanses are famously unpretentious.  Every now and then, though, something strange gets cooked up in the Buckeye state, and the latest thing I’ve discovered is Grippo’s.

Everyone thinks Hippo's are all fun and,
cuddles, but I would suggest that they
should inspire terror. Jaws 4, anyone? 

            ‘Grippo’s’ rather sounds like a name for a hippopotamus cartoon character, but my mom insisted they were recommended to her by a convenience store clerk who assured her that they had an authentic working class charm, though in less polite words.  It’s always a wonderful revelation to find a gem in everyday places- in this case, the mysterious name comes from the original ‘Angelo Grippo’, (an Italian immigrant, so of course, use the Mario accent), who set up a pretzel shop in Cincinnati, Ohio at the turn of the last century, and I have read that they can also be found in stores in Kentucky, Northern Virginia, Florida, Georgia, and Tennessee. 

I was intrigued but skeptical when my Mom sent these over to France- I was expecting perhaps some kettle cooked barbecue chips with a little seasoning pizzazz but nothing that original.  Instead, I was slapped out of my skeptical-face by something unlike any other chip I have tasted before.

Grippos  chips are so thick with crunchy sugar and spice
they look like cookies!

Each Grippo chip is thoroughly encrusted with brown sugar and seasoning- and I do mean encrusted, like the plump sucrose crystals on a sugar cookie.  The crisp underneath is sodden with grease- the crunch is still there, but the highlight is the rich grill-oil sensation that fills the mouth as the sweet and salty sugar gems melt and the oil flows out of the dark orange crisps like the second coming of the Exxon Valdez.  Then the back of your throat will light up too, because these chips are hot like a fire cracker, offering sparkling bursts of spicy heat with little threat of lasting damage.  A lot of chips boast about how ‘flaming hot’ they are and then throw fake punches, but Grippo’s didn’t even advertise the spice factor, despite it being both considerable and expertly calibrated- now there’s some proper Ohio modesty!

This falls squarely into the genre of explicit
food porn- just look at the size of those
sugar crystals...

            The flavor itself, besides being describable as ‘delicious’, ‘sweet’, and ‘spicy hot’, is also unique and outside of the genre of standard barbecue flavorings.  There’s an unusual twist to the flavoring - a sweet-but-mildly-bitter cross between molasses and charred ribs- that’s hard to place, but that lies well outside the true-but-tried clichés of barbecue flavoring.  In fact, the seasoning on the chips is apparently so popular that they are now selling it separately for use on the grill!

            As it is, the density, spiciness, and sweetness of the spices on Grippo’s chips make them truly extraordinary, and while they don’t achieve it by using high-brow organic ingredients and kettle-cooking techniques, the end result is far more unique and amazingly delicious than many elite chip brands.  The legacy of the illustrious Angelo Grippo remains well alive, and I am determined to learn more of his descendants’ doings forthwith.

Stars: 4/4

Spiciness: Hot

Pros:

- Amazingly sweet and unique flavor overload from the densely encrusted seasoning

- Chips are soaked in extra flavorful (and unhealthy) oil

- Real spicy kick, but not too much to hurt

Cons:

- Will not appeal to those who don’t like very heavy and strong seasonings

- The crisps are not particularly thick, but it’s like criticizing a roller coaster ride for not being sufficiently relaxing

Chio Chips Bacon szalonna izesitesu

If one European country comes close to matching the American fondness for wrapping everything in bacon, it must be Hungary, and there’s an interesting explanation rooted in ethno-zoology.  Mangalica is a species of hairy hog raised almost exclusively in Hungary and the Balkan that’s quite in fashion with the chefs in Budapest.  When I heard they were ‘hairy hogs’ I imagined something like an extra-whispy wild boar, like the Thundertusk boar in the Monster Manual, but actually they look instead rather like sheep.  In pig form. 

Woolly enough to make knit sweater out of. 

Apparently, mangalica are declining in popularity outside of the haute-cuisine scene because they mostly produce lard, which isn’t a winner in these health-conscious times, but lardy pork nevertheless has uses in a number of remarkably tasty things such as sausage and bacon.  While I can’t say I pulled any hairs from my pork, I certainly came to appreciate the local fondness for bacon.  My best meal in Hungary: chicken stuffed with bacon, stuffed with asparagus with gorgonzola polenta.  Hungarian menus evince the indisputable reality that there are few dishes that can’t be improved by a judicious application of salty-sweet pork- and/or cream sauce.

Yes, that's aspargus in bacon
in fried chicken in balsamic
sauce.

Chio’s Bacon chips promised a lot along these lines, with a beautiful image of a slab of dark bacon displayed gratuitously on the cover of the bag, and it was hard not to respond to its whispered promises.  A quick trip back to the guesthouse we were lodged in at Blaha Lujza revealed, however, that these were fairly ordinary salty barbecue flavored chips.

Now, unlike in France, we did not see ‘Barbecue’ products on the store shelves, so it seems that this tried and true vein of tasty seasoning was simply being labeled in a fashion more appropriate to local tastes.  These chips did a reasonable job of conveying a salty-smoky aroma, only using natural flavoring and coloration if the blurb on the package is to be believed.  They did more to evoke barbecue than bacon, but towards the end of the package, I could kind of imagine I was tasting the extra salty and crunchy bacon that’s been very thoroughly fried on the grill till it’s brittle and crispy.

I kind of imagined a 'hairy pig'
would look like this, but the reality is
less stabby.

The crisps themselves were reasonably pretty and authentic looking but not particularly crunchy- they had that thin-styrofoam texture to them which is acceptable in snack food, but less than virtuous.  As a whole, these chips proved serviceable but not exceptional- those looking for a familiar barbecue-like experience will be satisfied, but if you’re in Hungary, you might as well go for something a little more exotic.  Say, for example, actual sheep-pigs.

Stars: 2/4

Spiciness Rating: None

Pros:

- Decent barbecue flavor, may eventually remind you of crispy bacon

Cons:

- More barbecue-y than bacon, not particularly inventive

- The crisps themselves aren’t very crunchy

Cerealis Bugles Smokin’ BBQ Flavor

Dipping my fingers into my first bag of Tunisian chips, I can only speculate what wonders this exotic new North African locale will bring- crisps made of couscous and baklava seasoning?  Never mind that the title ‘smokin’ bbq’ is sounding much more American in inclination right down to the Drop G, (I’ll take Drop D over Drop G any time.)

A Tunisian tagine (pot) filled with
cous-cous and veggies, recipe
here.  Sadly, they haven't made
the chip seasoning yet...

However, my hyperactive imagination might have been better served to note the ‘General Mills’ logo on the corner of the bag, and as I pop out the cornucopia-shaped treats it turns out that this is a very faithful reproduction of the original American Bugle.  Right down to the lovingly ribbed corn crisp husks, the buttery savory taste as they are pulverized in the mouth, and reveille playing over the camp loud speakers.

But wait, what about the smokin’ BBQ flavoring?  Surely they mean Smokin’ in the Biblical sense.  However, you'll have to untwist your undergarments, as though the bugles themselves are pleasantly dusted with red seasoning, the flavoring is at most a very mildly sweet undertone- these are much more Bugle-flavored than BBQ seasoned.  The flavoring does contribute very subtly to the eating experience, but if you are in any way expecting ‘BBQ’ or ‘Smokey’ flavored crisps, you are in for a serious disappointment.

The US Governmen paid 20% of its annual
budget in 1800 in tribute to the Barbary
pirates.  That's more booty than even
Sir Mixalot could handle.

Nonetheless, I have kinder words for these crisps then the Bacon 3D Bugles I tried here earlier in France, because while those were actually smoky, they were also overly salty.  By contrast, for all their serious lacking of seasoning, these Tunisian bugles preserved the buttery and unobtrusive flavoring one expects from a Bugle.  We can only assume they are keeping with the grand tradition of the Barbary pirates in ruthlessly acquiring the loot for their own tasty purposes.

Stars: 2/4

Spiciness Rating: None

Pros:

- They are 90% authentic Bugles

Cons:

- Not particularly Barbecue or Smokey

Lorenz Monster Munch Gout Jambon & Fromage, Gout Sel, Gout Barbecue

           So every time I go shopping, I’m confronted by a rack full of Monster Munch bags, which honestly are very unfrightening in their little parade of of smiling ghost faces.  However, they do remind me of Pac-Man, and at a loss for more interesting things to buy at that particular store, I resolved to try them out, having been assured they were everybody’s favorite child hood snack.  Now having done some research, it turns out Monster Munch is a big deal in the UK, where they are available with distinct monster-bodies and flavors like ‘Pickled Onion’ and ‘Roast Beef.’  The French flavors are more pedestrian, and in appearance more unified; it appears that the brand has been licensed by a French company which proceeded to do whatever the hell they wanted to with them, so I am not really passing judgment on the UK Monster Munch, which appears to be a whole different bag of (rather interesting-sounding) chips.

As this food analyst acidly put it,
"they are clearly ghosts", not monsters
as in the UK. Anyone used to exploring
dungeons understands this means they
are more likely to drive you insane or
possess you, but not as talented at the
whole bite-your-face off routine,
lacking, as they do, physical form.

            Now in addition to feeling sheepishly infantile for eating ‘Monster Munch’, I was a little reluctant to try them based on my last experience with a Lorenz product, which proved to be brittle and rough on the outside and empty on the inside.  Well, true to form, these ectoplasmic chip-cracker-things (they are made 24.5% out of sunflower oil, and 22% out of pureed potato powder, so make of that what you will) aren’t so rough on the outside, but they’re still empty on the inside.  In texture they are reminiscent of Asian shrimp chips minus the fish flavor, fortunately for me and my anti-piscine ways.  So all in all, these phantoms are acceptable vehicles for flavor delivery, though I still hold the lack of inner substance against these ethereal marauders.

If only they looked like actual
ethereal marauders, everybody's favorite
transdimensional velociraptor that never,
ever wants to close its mouth.

Ham and Cheese Flavored

So now that we have established, in the model of a proper college science experiment, the commonalities in texture between the three case samples, we are left to identify in turn the variations in flavoring.  First in order of tasting is Ham and Cheese, which go well together in real life, and should do so as well as in the ‘let’s pretend’ world of flavoring.  The melted-gruyer Croque-monsieur (literally translated: ‘man-snack’, rrrow!) is the ur-sandwich of the French lunch table, so the folks at Lorenz clearly know what they’re doing from the culturally specific marketing angle.

There's something almost American about
the French preference for literally soaking
their ham sandwiches in additional cheese
and cream until it is a sopping wet mess of
hot melted cream and meat.  Mmmm,
romantic!  No wonder it's called a man snack.

            Fortunately, for them, it works pretty decently, with intimations of gruyer cheese contrasting tonally with a saltier ‘ham’ like accent.  The flavor emulation is far from evocative of the real thing, but you still have a sort pleasant creamy cheese-and-salt flavor rolling around in your mouth after you mash more than a few- and you will probably be tempted to eat more than a few at a time because of the aforementioned lack of density.  Unfortunately, this also means that they can fill a medium sized bag of these up, charge a ‘regular’ French price for them, and end up receiving only 80 grams of content rather than the more standard 100 or 135 grams.  So all in all, nothing to write home about but nonetheless a passable snack .

Salty Monster Munch

            What do you get when you take the unremarkable crisps of the Ham’n’Cheese munch and subtract the flavoring for some old fashioned saltiness?  Nothing especially good.  I will grant that ‘plain’ Monster Munch is all right for some mindless eating, perhaps while drunk on the side of a canal, but it fails to be very compelling because basic unflavored Monster Munch crisps are just not all that good.

Barbecue Monster Munch

            Like the final action scene in a Vin Diesel movie, the location of my last sampling of the French Monster Munch occurred on the docks of the Ile Saint-Louis in the middle of the Sein, where finally the proverbial Monster united with a proper flavor for maximum appeal (did I mention there were motor boats and Germans present?)  Unlike nearly every other barbecue flavoring I’ve had in France, this one reflects an understanding that barbecue should be sweet as well as salty, a combination which it offers to satisfying effect.  While we aren’t talking about a really sophisticated flavoring made with natural herbs and spices, the sweet-and-salty flavor that’s there is genuinely enjoyable, hitting the right notes and finally giving the inoffensive crisps something to swagger about.



Typical riverine scene from the Ile-
Saint Louis.  Please note that the shark
is mechanical and controlled by Nazis.
Also, a great picnic spot.

            So in summary, these obviously are meant to have a sort of unsophisticated appeal, and at that level they are fairly enjoyable as long as you don’t ponder the metrics behind the price-for-quantity ratio.  If you like to eat your chips seriously, sitting on a leather chair glass of gin in hand, contemplating the deep dark darkness of the human soul, Monster Munch really won’t be deep enough for you.  However, they make fairly compelling eating for those in a sociable (and quite possibly drunk) mood who don’t need to pay close attention to the refinement (or lack thereof) of what they are eating.  These munches look exactly like the ghosts from PacMan after eating one of the Power Pellets (did you know that each ghost has a different name and programmed hunting behavior?) and who hasn’t wanted to experience that vicarious thrill in real life?  (Ok, don’t overwhelm my inbox with responses to that one…)  Monster Munchies: for the kids and the PacMan in all of us.

If you enjoy sitting in your antique leather
armchair, pondering your inevitable descent into
madness and corruption and the crunchiness
of potato chips, too numbed by inner suffering
to pay heed to the fawning attempts of your slave
girls to earn your favor, you may find Monster
Munch too crude for your refined sensibilities.
Then again, you may prefer a diet of
unwilling souls.

Stars: 2 for Ham and Cheese

            1 for Salt

            2½ for Barbecue

Pros:

- Chips for a Ghostbuster!

-Easy and pleasant to eat when you don’t need to pay close attention

- Ham and Cheese: There is a fun salty and creamy vibe with these once you really start crunching them

- Barbecue: pleasantly sweet as well as salty, balancing the flavor well

Cons:

- The crisps are airy and insubstantial in the middle

- Flavoring is more suggestive than evocative

- Salty: Don’t bother with these unless inebriated

Cape Cod Sweet Mesquite Barbeque

           I’ve written about good teases which tantalize with subtle flavors at the tip of the tongue, before finally delivering a glorious flavor load- but sadly, Cape Cod’s Mesquite Barbeque falls in the category of bad teases, which fail to follow up on what seemed to be a promising package.  They also fall in a well-populated genre of high-quality kettle cooked chips which are lacking adequate flavoring.

I must confess to a certain degree of fear in starting out my review relationship with Cape Cod Potato chips on a low note, not only because their mafia extends nation-wide, but because it happens that my significant other is a native of that perfectly charming coastal community.  Given what I know of the salty mooncussers of eastern Massachusetts, I can assure you that were I to offend them, they are not at all likely to curse me out in the wicked colorful local dialect, hoist me up with their massively muscled limbs, and feed me to the fishes.  No, not at all likely.  

Were you to spend a week in the
Chatham Squire, you would probably
have the chance to meet every resident
of Chatham, Cape Cod.

So…I have two theories as to why so many high-quality chips are shipped with weak flavoring: the first is that by using only natural ingredients, they may have limitations to how strong a flavoring they can manufacture compared to mass-market flavorings that are basically alchemical Frankenstein concoctions of great tastiness.  The second reason is that they may be cooked according to an aesthetic emphasizing the taste of the potato over that of the flavoring.  My (highly subjective) feeling on this is that tasting the potato is great, but when I buy barbecue potato chips, I expect them deliver a strong sweet and salty barbecue-taste, not a potato-flavored potato chip with a faint whiff of the grill.

Based on the improbable flavor fusions on mass market
potato chips we can only  presume their flavor R&D
department looks pretty much like this.

            And there is the problem with Cape Cod’s Mesquite barbecue chips- the flavoring is weak and doesn’t build up to a strong statement- like a crappy job, you go to work every day and dig in, only to wish you actually felt rewarded for all the effort.  It’s really too bad, because these are good quality kettle-cooked potato chips, thick and with a nice rough texture, though tending to be on the small side at around 1½ inches in diameter. 

Every wonder why they never show
images of actual mesquite on the bag?
I'll never have it said I don't make
all of your wishes come true...

One unique feature is that there is an authentic smoky tang of burnt mesquite lurking amidst the other flavors, which is awesome, but the fact that it’s not coming together with a worthwhile barbecue flavoring prevents it from fulfilling its potential.   The seasoning, or the little you can taste, is standard stuff- tomato, onion, and garlic, apparently all natural, though insufficiently strong and sweet.

            Purists that prefer a strong earthy potato flavor in their chips with only lightly applied additional flavors may enjoy these chips, especially with their mesquite-smoke tang, but anybody looking for a strong sweet barbecue flavor will do much better looking elsewhere, despite the other qualities of these chips.

Stars:  1½/4

Spiciness Rating: Very Mild

Pros:

- Nice, quality kettle cooked potato crisps

- Pleasing mesquite tang

Cons:

- Flavoring is too weak and ineffectual

- Crisps are fairly small

Fritos Flavor Twists Honey BBQ

            Some things in life are a tease, or allumeuse as the French would say.  They reveal just a little a bit of what’s inside, just a hint of the enticing delights floating beyond your grasp, oh so slowly and subtly.  Much as you may yearn to pry out the beautiful goods within, the tease delays, withholds, drives you mad with anticipation of the moment that they will yield their bounty to your slavering appetite.  A good tease will gloriously avail itself at the end of an opera of escalating desirous tension, a bad tease will leave one frustrated and without satisfaction.

Rotini pastsa, the obvious inspiration
for the Flavor Twists.  Though it may
look like a pile of chitinous beatles,
the little coils are wonderful for
abosrbing tomato sauce and cheese.

            Fritos Honey Barbecue Flavor Twists are good teases.  There are not a few bad teases, when it comes to chips; subtle flavorings that hint at great things to come, but never pay off because of inadequate seasoning or missing flavor notes.  But the tease-iness of the Honey Barbecue Twists is in fact rather clever; these are basically your standard Frito corn chips elongated into a twisted coiled shape very much like rotini pasta and then slathered with a sweet barbecue flavoring with notes of molasses, garlic, and tomato. 

Good tease or bad tease? In
the end, Cylon #6 will likely give
you all that you were hoping for,
but leaving you regretting it for
a long, long time.

Because the coils of the ‘twists’ are too small for the tongue to fit fully inside, you can only taste a judicious but incomplete portion (say 50 to 70%) of the tasty flavoring on the chip, and are left lusting to probe your tongue deeper to ravish all of the yummy seasoning.  An impossible task, I must confess, but the amount of flavoring already there is adequate, and by withholding a bit, I find myself always wanting more, whereas if all the flavoring had been easily accessible my taste buds would likely saturate and it would wear out its welcome.  (A similar theory applies to ‘saving yourself’ while dating, but I don’t know if I really want to encourage this line of reasoning.)

Obviously, these are not the most sophisticated fair as chips go, but they remain a tasty tease for the tongue which I like to return to when nothing more exotic (or discounted) draws my eye.  Some may raise any eyebrow at the high score, but for what they are, (a variety of Frito Corn Chip) they are nothing less than perfect.

Uninteresting Bit of Trivia: I can say with precision that the first time I tried these chips was at the recommendation of my partner while waiting next to a CVS to pick up my sister at the Columbia Heights Metro station in Washington DC in September of 2006.  How’s that for epic?

Stars: 4/4

Spiciness Rating: none

Pros:

- Excellent sweet barbecue flavoring

- Coiled shape of the chips tantalizes the tongue by holding a bit of the flavoring just out of reach…

- Frito’s corn chips are extra crunchy and satisfying in this format

Cons:

- None really, except that some will always prefer more refined chips

Tim’s Cascade Snacks Hawaiian Kettle Style Chips

Available in Canada, Japan, South Korea, Taiwan and United States of Alaska, Arizona, California, Colorado, Hawaii, Idaho, Montana, Nevada, New Mexico, Oregon, Texas, Utah, Washington, Wyoming

Lady viewers should be
pleased to observe that
both the male and the
female figures on the
packaging offer a most
tempting aspect.

Like a big thick novel with a slow beginning, my initial reaction to the Hawaiian Kettle Style Chips was underwhelming.  Yes, the prose is nice, but not too much is happening- meandering anthropological notes are made, a birthday is described full of social nuances of subtle significance, you find yourself wading through some obscure passages referring obliquely to events in an earlier story.  But then, about 100 pages in, Ringwraiths are stabbing you with their death blades, magical water-horses are summoned by elven lords, and a kraken lurking in a pond trys to snag your foot for an early lunch, and you’re sucked into a thrilling ride you can’t drop.  Likewise, the Hawaiian Kettle chips make a slight impression on first taste, but rapidly build up to a fiery epic.

Not a photoshop.

Now, these would be my first ‘Hawaiian flavored’ chips, (in fact, it would appear the company makes several varieties of Hawaiian chips), and I must admit the idea is intriguing in a good kind of way, despite my aversion to seafood.  Besides seafood, of course, my ill-informed American mind has been trained by just about every major pizza chain ever to associate Hawaiian cuisine with ham and pineapple.  Now as it turns out, when we say Hawiian’s are into ‘ham’ we actually mean ‘spam’, and Wikipedia helpfully informs us that Hawaii is “the second largest consumer of Spam in the world, right behind Guam”, and helpfully lists all of the peculiar local varieties of SPAM-based cuisine.  This fact I first gleaned from some French students who had studied in Hawaii, reminiscing nostalgically about all the spam they used to eat- surreal!  As spam was first introduced into Hawaii by the military during World War II (when off shore fishing was restricted and meat became scarce), we can well conclude that the after effects of that terrible conflict are even deeper than we ever suspected.

Anyway, you can see that I am already well intrigued by the concept of 'Hawaiian' chips.  On the outside, they are indeed quite clearly quality kettle-cooked chips, nicely textured and bubbly, thickly coated with rich orange spices.  The individual crisps are on the smaller size, however, and they seemed to be relatively fragmented, but as my ‘review copy’ was mailed to me from the United States and over the Atlantic, that may be a result of the over-sea travel and compression into a narrow box!

           

The sort of book that inspires
admiration and dread in equal
measure.

Now upon my first bite, I was left with that ‘thick classic novel’ sensation- the high quality trimmings are clearly there, but the actual flavor is a bit dull- basically a classy but restrained typical barbecue flavoring.  However, as I began to help myself more crisps, it felt like somebody dialed up the contrast to 11 and suddenly I was tasting ultra-violet flavors that emerged from the ether like void spectres materializing from the superheated depths of the Mutara Nebula.  The spiciness quickly ramped up to glowing but comfortable blaze like a hot bath, the sugar and the salt began fighting a blood battle on my tongue leaving only me the ultimate victor, and underneath it all was a nice bedrock of peanut oil.  So, all in all, sweeter and spicier chips than one would have expected at first blush, and also very reminiscent of Utz’s Kettle Classic Smokin’ Sweet Barbecue chips for those East Coasters among us (which I also highly recommend, and will perforce review in detail at some point in the enigmatic mists of the future.)

But do they taste Hawaiian, you ask?  Well, not dramatically, and the ingredient list on the back yields no obviously Polynesian influences, nor any hint of canned meat.  And yet, as I delved deeper into the tiger-colored madness, I detected faint tones of sour-sweetness that reminded me distinctively- yes!- of pineapple.  The pineapple flavor is definitely more of an occasional flavor note then part of the chorus as it were, but the inclusion of ‘citrus flavors’ on the ingredient list suggest to me that I am not tasting placebo-pineapple. 

Basically, it’s a cool idea executed with restraint- perhaps they could have been more bold with the ‘Hawiian’ element, but in so doing they would have moved away from the more reliable mass-market appeal of the barbecue flavor to something more experimental (and pineapple-flavored.)

Just like this, if she were also on fire.

Still, back to the basics: these are well-textured Kettle chips with a sweet barbecue flavor that starts out timid, but with a little patience and careful prodding, will step out onto the dance room floor (of your mouth) and show off its true colors in a whirling spicy hot cavalcade that will leave you panting for more.  There is a nice little Hawaiian pineapple accent thrown in the deal, but the main show is quite enough to please all by itself.

Stars: 3/4

Spiciness Rating: Moderate-Hot (hot near the bottom of the bag)

Pros:

- rich sweet barbecue flavor builds up to a rewarding and spicy climax

- did I mention that these are barbecue chips that are actually spicy?

- smokey peanut oil undertones are pleasure all by themselves

- pineapple notes add a hint of island-citrus to the barbecue mix

- well textued Kettle crisps

Cons: (or more like caveats in this case)

- though the crisps are thick, they are also very damp with oil, and not as crunchy as some might prefer

- the flavor takes time to fully present itself and does not offers its full rewards on the first few bites (especially near the top of the bag where flavoring is less dense)

- individual crisps tend to be relatively small and fragmented

- the chips shy away from deeply exploring the whole Hawaiian-pineapple concept