Tim’s Cascade Style Mild Pepper Jack Cheese Flavored



The Internet has not ONE image
of the MILD variety of Pepper
Jack chips, so behold my
contribution to the official record!

            I have always been a believer that Pepper Jack is perhaps America’s greatest contribution to international cheesehood.  Nice creamy white marbled cheese stuffed full of hot peppers, how can it not be brilliant?   More strangely, I’m not aware of any other cheeses in the world that emulate this ingenious pepper-insertion model, (though please inform me in the comments if I am wrong!)  Pepper Jack cheese can be found just about everywhere in contemporary American unhealthy food- on top of at least one variant of hamburger at any diner worth its name, stuffed in jalapeno poppers, etc.  Needless to say, Pepper Jack flavored chips have been long overdue, and when I received a package from the United States including a bag proclaiming to be Pepper Jack cheese flavored, I was more than a little excited.

Pepper Jack cheese- the one time
American + Cheese Curds= awesome.

            Now, first to get some of the basics out of the way: these are part of the line of Tim’s Cascade Style chips, and like my earlier reviews for these chips, I found that they had a generally superior crunchy thick texture, with beautifully browned crisps, though somewhat diminished by the fairly small size of the potato rounds.  But what of the flavor?

 Rather than sprinkle on some standard cheddar flavoring, the seasoning on these chips conveys a creamier/milkier flavor quite that’s very appropriate in conveying the experience of soft white Monterey Jack cheese.  Unfortunately, the seasoning is still quite salty, and tends linger on the back of the tongue, and in no time the creamy cheese flavoring is somewhat undermined by the onslaught of sodium.  The ingredient list includes Monterey Jack, Blue, and Cheddar cheese as ingredients (something to be praised considering how many companies would have gone the route of artificial flavorings with such an endeavor), but I might speculate that they may have gotten carried away with the saltiness of the Blue cheese, because if you remove the peppers, Monterey Jack is fairly mild cheese in terms of saltiness. 

 But what of the pepper part of things, you ask insistently, hopping up and down with impatience?
Well, those readers of a discerning eye may have noticed that these are ‘Mild’ Pepper Jack chips, and those also aware of my prejudices will understand when I express my chagrin that this appellation is indeed accurate.  The back of the bag boasts “we combined spicy peppers with a flavor that flirts with your taste buds for that zesty warming flavor.”  Well, I will say that yes, the peppers in the seasoning do ‘flirt’ with your taste buds, and it’s nice.  But this is flirting like a brush on the arm, and frankly I expect at least a full-blown make out session- this is a romantic comedy that climaxes with some nervous hands-held-together rather than a fade to black.  Look, a little spicy flirtation is great, but with food we kind of feel entitled to the whole experience after a little commitment, and less of this delayed-anticipation-and-uncertain-payoff stuff. 



"I do find that she glances at him in a
rather forward manner, would you
not say?"  "Indisputably, madam;
dare I say a glance like that is one
step short of teabagging."



           So yes, you do get a pleasant low burn after you eat these for a while, but the words Mild sum it up too well, and I must say that this is a disappointment (even though one foreshadowed in the name of the product itself!)  Now, as far as the Internet is concerned there is no 'Mild' version of these chips, so it's possible the more typical version on store shelves is considerably spicier, and if I have the opportunity to give a spicier version a try I would likely find them considerably superior.  However, I can only review the 'Mild' version available to me; as it is, taking a spicy food, and making a mild-spicy flavor out of it seems a basic contradiction in design intent.  As it is, the spicy element that’s present is better than nothing at all, but leaves you yearning for a little more boldness in the recipe team- a flirt that isn’t just stringing you along.  It is perhaps unfortunately telling that there are no peppers specifically cited in the ingredients list.

            As a final note, I must say that unlike my earlier reviews of Tim’s Cascade style products, I found that the crisps at the top of the bag had too little flavoring and that a more favorable balance of flavoring per crisp wasn’t reached until the bottom half.  This does mean that the eating experience improves over time while eating these, but still indicates they should gone a little heavier on the seasoning.

Stars: 2/4

Spiciness Rating: Mild

Pros:

- Nice creamy white cheese-flavoring

- Above average texture

- the spicy aspect, such as it is, is fun

Cons:

- the spicy aspect should be spicier

- the cheese flavored seasoning is tarnished by excessive saltiness

- crisps are a little on the small side

Tim’s Cascade Snacks Jalapeño Seasoned

            Today I’m breaking into the second bag of chips sent to me from the United States, and also the new up-and-coming genre of Jalapeño flavored potato chips.  To be honest, we are a bit past up and coming: like superhero movies starting circa 2008, they came and they’re here to stay.

            Who can’t help but be fond of the jalapeño, the noble workman of spicy peppers?  I will tell you who, people who don’t like spicy food.  Fortunately, I am not among their number!  Really they are splendidly versatile, and can be easily deseeded to ramp-back on the heat if necessary.  Americans by now have been exposed to enough of them in Mexican restaurants that they were ready to hit it off mainstream by the turn of the century.

            This is the second bag of Tim’s Cascade Style chips I’ve tried, and it absolutely shows its common pedigree in regard to the crisps, which are crunchy kettle-style chips that should please anyone looking for a complex texture, but which suffer a little for their fairly small size.  The flavoring is evenly applied across the chips in adequate quantitites, though it doesn’t obscure the natural russet brown coloration of the chips.

You always tell yourself you know
better than to eat the slices by them
self.  Then you do it anyway.

            I must say that the jalapeño seasoning on these chips was the most authentically jalapeño-like spices I’ve had on chips.  Have you ever had one of those moments contemplating a large slice of jalapeño pepper on your dish, knowing it’s a bad idea to bite into it, but then succumbing to some combination of foolishness, hunger, and masochism?  After the first bite, you tell yourself, that’s not so bad!, and then you suddenly feel this ominous flavor in your mouth, the foretaste of your own doom.  As any auteur of the sinister knows, it is not the fires of hell, but the dire portent that they will soon arrive that is the ultimate thrilling sensation.  It was precisely that spooky, very jalapeño-like sentiment that greeted me after munching through a few of these chips, though unlike actual jalapeños, the subsequent blaze was of the controlled kind.  In other words, these are pleasantly spicy, but not so much as to cause discomfort to your average palate.

Cat realizing the horror of its
inevitable fiery doom.  Maybe
he even ate a jalapeno.

            So, with that hefty praise offered, I must sadly report that these chips suffered from some of the same limitations that have plagued earlier jalapeño chips.  Just like you don’t eat jalapeños alone but mixed in with other food, jalapeño flavoring really works better matched with something else, rather than all by its lonesome.  Too many other jalapeño chips leave you with just spicy and salty, which isn’t enough in my opinion- you want duality in flavoring,  (sweet and salty for barbecue flavoring, sour cream and onion, creamy and salty for cheese flavors, etc.), but ‘pure’ jalapeño chips lack the mixture.  While these chips throw in some nice hints of garlic and onion into the mix, those flavors don’t do enough to counterpoint the dominance of the salty crisps and spicy jalapeno.  Cape Cod’s Sweet and Spicy Jalapeño are a good example of a chip that found a better balance of flavor elements (I should have a review for those up eventually)- unfortunately, these chips are not as multi-dimensional.

            That shouldn’t take away from the sheer evocativeness of the jalapeño flavoring as it menacingly crawls up your tongue with its message of gastronomic dread, and I should restate for those that favor purity of flavor, of the pureblood Jalapeno chips these are the best I’ve had.  However, as Hermoine will attest, sometimes a mixed foundation yields richer rewards.

Stars: 2½/4

Spicines Rating: Moderate-Hot

Pros:

- Highly evocative jalapeño pepper taste that builds up in your mouth like the real thing (but isn’t as painful at its peak!)

- Thick and crunchy kettle style chips, baked to a beautiful russet brown

- Flavoring is well distributed across the crisps

Cons:

- Jalapeño flavoring is at it’s best when combined with something else

- Crisps are on the small side

- Some people may want a little more burnination in their spicy chips

A Package in the Mail

I was heading out to do some grocery shopping late one afternoon last week when our concierge pounced on me, haranguing me at length for having not picked up the mail in the last two days.  Have you not seen all the letters piling up?  It’s starting to be stressful. 

Well, we shared the apartment with enough other people that I kind of started assuming that one of them was getting around to it before I was, but as it turns out,, a hefty pile had accumulated, including one big cardboard box from across the Atlantic with my name on it.

Well, I already had an inkling that my friend Joe K (yes, that K as in KOOL!), our average-every-day-Joe expert on the Somali language, space fleet tactics, hip-practical-and-outrageously-expensive hiking gear, piracy, Asian cinema, and Mac fanboyism (I’m definitely missing a few more here) felt that I was perhaps being deprived of some of the finer things of American chippery.  And, for all my see-the-bright-side attitude about the state of salty-snack foods in France, there really are truly a lot of finer things I am missing here.  Just imagine how the French feel when they come to our typical grocery stores and see what the selection of cheese and dry sausage is like!  (I don’t have to imagine, because I’ve been told on more than one occasion; I’m nearly over the sobbing by now…)

Well, Joe isn’t the kind of guy who would let a little obstacle like the Atlantic ocean stop him¸ (it’s the sort of geographic inconvenience he’s used to eliding on a regular basis.)  Let me tell you, the last time I got him stuck in the bathroom of a night club with a room full of orcs in leather trenchcoats, it was the orcs that were left crying in pain on the floor.

So I mistakenly assumed these were chips from Joe’s place in North Carolina, but silly me, they come from the region of his ancestral holding, the West coast.  All three bags are varieties of Tim’s Cascade Style Potato Chips, which according to the website, distributes to the following states: Alaska, Arizona, California, Colorado, Hawaii, Idaho, Montana, Nevada, New Mexico, Oregon, Texas, Utah, Washington, Wyoming.  Apparently, they are also sold in Canada, Japan, South Korea, Taiwan.  So my Asian and Canadian readers should be able to get a hold of these, (yes I know you’re out there!), but sadly were I to return to my secret lair on the East Coast I will remain forever after deprived.

The questions poses itself: can I possibly review these chips without being biased, or at least tempted to please my benefactor?  Well, probably not.

But I will try really, really hard to be objective anyway- with luck, I can live up to the standards proudly set by Fox News.  Fair and balanced for the win!

(You can judge my impartiality by my first review of the Hawaiian Barbecue chips posted below!)

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