Showing posts with label Wacky Flavors. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Wacky Flavors. Show all posts

Thursday, August 25, 2011

Bret’s Pavé Grillée (Grilled Steak!)

There’ve been a lot of sophisticated flavor-emulating chips hitting the store shelves in the United States, but I feel fairly fortunate to have picked up this little gem in France, where most of the flavorings are more along the lines of crude artist’s impressions than photo-realistic reproduction for the tongue.  So now, to join the meaty flavors of Dorito’s Tailgate Barbecue or Lay’s Cheeseburger Crisps, we have nothing other than Steak Flavored chips, done in a most convincing fashion, and without (I know you are dye-ing to know…) any red food coloring.
It's as if everything tasty and bad for your
health were brought together in one
convenient place.  But wait, galette are made
with buckwheat, so now they qualify as
health food.
Bret’s, as it turns out, is from Bretagne (Brittany) in France, the north-eastern peninsular region across the English channel, immediately west of Normandy, which Americans should all remember for some sort of minor skirmish fought on a beach.  Brittany is known for its inhabitants fondness for cider and salty buckwheat crepes stuffed with cheese and meat known as galettes.  Apparently, they also like all their beef enough they want to taste it on their fried potato crisps- I would say that’s almost American, but the French possibly like steak even more than Americans.

The first sensation I experienced upon opening the bag was a strong but pleasing scent of vinegar, and although I found that a little strange, I was not at all off put because I love vinegar (as some readers may recall…) and I dug in with an open mind.  The crisps themselves are ruffled and lightly browned, spared any coloration or obvious flavoring except for some scattered flecks of black pepper.

Classic French cooking- though this
pave is drizzled in a cream-and-pepper
sauce whereas the chips are simulating
a wine-based marinade.
Thoughts of vinegar will flow from your mind like wine sauce poured on filet mignon as you bite into these chips and are greeted by the sumptuous flavor of a juicy grilled steak melting in your gnashers.  The evocation of a succulently tender steak is flatly uncanny, in the best X-men sense of the word, with intimations of a rich wine-based marinade vaguely but an unobtrusively in the background and a hint of smokiness to get the grilled grit on your tongue.  The vinegar elements are part and parcel with the sweater aspects of its bouquet, but the salt anchors the meaty body of the flavor.

What dark arts did the folks at Bret’s practice to produce these alchemical master pieces?  Sadly, the ingredients list is as vague a defense attorney under cross-examination.  But I was so convinced of the superiority of the flavor emulation that I instituted a series of tests to see if my housemates could correctly identify the flavor of the chips without seeing the bag they came from first.  Well, I must humble myself by being honest here: everybody got that it was meat, but nobody was able to identify it as steak (chicken was the popular answer) before I showed them the bag.

So, I am embarrassed to admit that the results of my experiment undermine the claims I am putting forth in the review.  You’ll just have to take my word that these bring the sweet and the salty of the steak eating experience, (and by that, I mean a well-seasoned steak, not a the flavorless hunks of meat that require half a bottle of steak sauce to even tickle your tongue), mixed in with some subtle but highly satisfying overtones of marinade. Flavor mixing at its finest bound to please your mouth as surely as making out with that leggy librarian you were eyeing in High school.  Yeah, you know the guy I'm talking about.
"Oh, you know how it is. I was just about to update the card
catalog and put up some new Dewey decimal system posters
when I thought to myself, 'My, do these stacks get stuffy...'"

Stars: 3½/4
Spiciness Rating: none

Pros:
- Amazingly life-like juicy steak flavor evenly applied on the chips
- Vinegar and marinade aromas mixed in with subtle skill that should offend no one and please many
- Ruffled crisps are nice and crunchy

Cons:
- Not the highest-quality of potato crisps, though still quite good
- A little more pepper to counterpoint the sweet and salty would have made it just perfect

Monday, May 30, 2011

Monoprix Chips à L’Ancienne Saveur Moutarde

            So, having complained at length about the shortcomings of Leader Price’s mustard-flavored chips, and I couldn’t resist but make a head-to-head comparison with exact same flavor of chips as sold by Monoprix.  Remember, we are talking about grainy old-fashioned mustard, not the smooth and creamy Dijon variety or the glow-in-the-dark American stuff.
            So, the long and the short of it is that basically they got it right where Leader Price held too much back; the flavor is more strongly stated, though by no means overpowering, with nice notes of mustard grain, a more substantial though still restrained use of vinegar, and salt and onion aromas for a good measure.  (Are there onions in actual mustard?  I don’t think so, but it works here.)
            So all’s well that ends well, right? Well, as any auteur will assure you that the ending can’t to be too happy or it will lose credibility.  Sorry Frodo, you may have destroyed the ring and survived, but you will have be so depressed for the rest of your life that you’ll wish you hadn’t.  For starters, while the texture of the chips is still a little above average, it doesn’t rise quite to the level of thick crunchiness of the Leader Price Mustard chips, which is really too bad.  So score one for regrets and sorrowful second thoughts.  Second, while I acknowledge that the mustard they are emulating isn’t remarkably spicy, I still have to whine: the chips aren’t spicy!
Some Europeans regard a fondness for
intense spices as reflecting some vaguely
masochistic shamanic tradition based on
the principle of drawing power from pain.
If thisis true, than I predict India and
Thailand will be the rival magical
superpowers of the 21st Century.
            To be honest, a big part of the issue is that French cuisine in general is not in favor of spiciness.  Sure, maybe a little poivre on the rumsteak here and there, but the sort of nose-running sweat-on-your-brow ultra-picante seasonings typical of Mexican, Indian, or Thai cuisine are deemed barbarically unsubtle.  Real-life French mustard is genuinely spicy of course, but it doesn’t seem to be an element they really want on their domestically produced chips, and so nearly all the spicy flavored items are foreign in origin (most notably in regards to chips: Pringles.)
            How important are these shortcomings?  Not very, the mustard flavor on these is improved and unambiguous, (mustard should never be ambiguous), and though the texture is ‘adequate’ rather than ‘great’, I can whole heartedly recommend these for regular munching if grainy mustard is your cup of tea.

Stars: 2 ½
Spiciness Rating: Very Mild

Pros:
- Effectively evokes the flavor of old-fashioned mustard
- Flavoring is well distributed

Cons:
- Texture is adequate, but not at same level of quality as the LeaderPrice chips
- Not going to satisfy anybody craving the spice.

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Utz Onion and Garlic Potato Chips

            As promised, I’ve come full circle back to everybody's favorite proverbially cheap-as-chips brand, Utz, and I’ve got to hand it to them, you go in expecting some bog-standard variation, and you end up with something unusual and weird.  Garlic flavored chips, after all, are not as common as all that, so I was happy enough to acquire some for my personal delectation. 
Speaking of the weird, just to throw something out there, it occurs to me that Utz may have felt garlic flavored snacks may have some additional utility beyond mere pleasures of the tongue, perhaps in the realm of self-defense.  One ‘reviewer’ has already cautioned against garlic chips because of the unfortunate effects it may produce on subsequent amorous encounters, but I would propose the following solution: chicks before chips.  Incidentally, those suggesting that I bought these following my ill-fated escapade with the undead handmaidens of the Lahmian Court of the Silver Peak should put a stake in it.  Besides, knowing what I know about those ladies, they favor a liquid diet, and wouldn’t be caught alive eating chips anyway.
Few things are as dangerous as garlic
breath combined with your girlfriend,
in bed.
            These potato chips are small rounds, around 1.5-2 inches in diameter on average, and have a peculiar soft texture which is low on crunch, but that allows them to easily melt in the mouth.  They are basically very low-density in consistency, and biting into them is like crunching through a thin layer of styrofoam, which isn’t as bad as it sounds because they don’t taste like styrofoam.  All in all, the texture is definitely not superior in quality, but it is strange and different enough that I’m inclined to be a little lenient.  Any thick-potato chip purists will hate them, and the thin textures seems to absorb moisture relatively quickly outside of the mouth as well as in (ie., go stale in the cabinet), but otherwise they’re all right.
            The texture aside, the flavoring on the Utz chips is very strong, with a lot more emphasis on the garlic over the onion, (a consensus among all but one review I’ve seen for these).  The crisps were fairly salty, but not excessively so; unless you surge the sodium by eating a lot of them at once, your mouth will be pleasantly garlicked and not suffer any cascading denial of service attacks.  Just as Sookie Stackhouse’s perky daring more than compensates for her lack of class, the garlic flavorings lack of sophistication did not prevent me from appreciating its boldness.  While Utz’s Onion and Garlic chips are far from being nuanced or perfected in either form or flavor, I do appreciate the unique approach they bring to the table and the tongue and recommend them for garlic lovers, or anybody afraid of receiving the blood kiss from Neferata, Queen of the Damned.
This guy actually did
a minute long video review
of the Onion & Garlic chips,
which sounds ridiculous
until you consider how long
I spent writing this one.

Stars: 2/4
Spiciness Rating: Very Mild

Pros:
- A nicely bold garlic flavor that is not so common on chips
- Protection from bloodsucking vixens
- The weirdly thin crisps do melt in the mouth easily

Cons:
- The weirdly thin crisps are very far from being any sort of quality, crunchy potato crisp
- Those seeking more onion will likely be disappointed

Monday, April 25, 2011

Lay’s Max Craquant Saveur Cheeseburger

 
          It would seem Cheeseburger chips are the new genre to match, as since I first tried out the Dorito’s variety in the summer of 2010, I was surprised to discover Lay’s own Cheeseburger chips in Paris, of all places.  Apparently the idea has appeal, even though it was in France that a militant farmer activist used his tractor to demolish a McDoanld's in protest of the American invasion of crap food in the land of haute cuisine (although on the less symoblic level, it involved a dispute over trade tarifs on Roquefort cheese and genetically modified beef, which definitely has shades of the opening of Episode I The Phantom Menace).  Just like banning Valentine’s Day in Malaysia, incidents like this are really proof of the seduction of debased foreign values- the purveyors of traditional culture go forth with pitchforks to cleanse those attracted to corrupt outsider values (or food), but low tastes can only but prevail in the end.
This McDonald's in construction was
mysteriously burned down in the town
of Voreppe after the residents compla-
ined that it would smell bad.  Lesson
to draw from this: use deodorant in
France if you love life.
            As I have mentioned before, I’ve never actually been a fan of fast-food style hamburgers since I stopped being of the age to care about the ‘free’ toys that came with the Happy Meals.  (Interestingly enough, there is a lawsuit in California seeking to ban McDonald’s from including toys in their Happy Meals!)The real thing, made at a local hamburger joint, or better yet, grilled at home, is by far superior.  And yet, just like my experience with the Cheeseburger Doritos, I found the rainbow of hamburger-associated flavors irresistibly nostalgic and delightful in its color and vibrance.
            Lay’s chips are on ruffled potato chips, which make for a significantly different eating experience than the Doritos.  Whereas Doritos nachos are basically all flavoring, with these you can still taste the potato underneath the flavors.  Fortunately, the potato crisps are pretty good quality, being thicker and crunchier than average.  I had initially feared that using potato-chips instead of nacho chips would dilute the cheeseburger flavor, but actually it had the effect of making the chips easier to eat at length by dialing down the intensity of the hamburger-seasoning.
Americans are so bad
at lighting fires that we
we grow suspcious of
barbecued meat that
doesn't taste of petroleum.
            Still, the flavoring is basically why you’d be interested in these chips, and I’m happy to report that they deliver a powerful taste of ketchup, pickles, onions and mustard supported by a subtle but comforting aroma of fire-grilled beef.  (You can practically taste the lighter fluid!)  Obviously the vinegary aspect present in mustard and ketchup are pretty much mutually reinforcing, but that in no way diminishes the uncanniness of the emulation.  Nicely enough, the ingredient lists includes actual tomato, garlic, vinegar, onions, mustard seed, and green peppers, so it looks like they didn't reduce everything to molecularly bonded aromas as one might expect.  The only notable omission when compared to the Cheeseburger Doritos, is the lack of actual cheese flavor, which is indeed rather odd for a cheeseburger-flavored product.  Clearly they were marketing on the ‘concept’ of being Cheeseburger flavored, even though these are in fact ‘Hamburger flavored.’ Now if they only get around to the kebab-flavored variety, I will be perfectly happy.
            So in summary, chalk another one up to the chemists in the employ of multi-national food factories, these chips were evocative of meat, condiments, and vegetables all at once and generally of good quality, offering an interesting and generally easier to eat alternative to Dorito’s praise-worthy rendition of the same concept.  So, if while overseas you feel a need to dip into some hamburger-nostalgia chips, don’t worry- the French do too, and have that covered for you.

Stars: 3/4
Spiciness Rating: None

Pros:
- Excellent burger emulation full of the taste of mustard, ketchup, pickles, and onions
- Nice grilled meat aroma in the back ground
- Thick, crunchy potato crisps of above average quality

Cons:
- No cheese flavor
- Some might prefer the slightly more intense flavor of the Doritos Cheeseburger Nachos

Thursday, April 21, 2011

Leader Price Chips a l’Ancienne Saveur Moutarde

The bag looked just like this,
but had the words 'Moutarde'
written on it at the bottom.
Old-Fashioned Mustard Flavor
In addition to always having liked chips (and fighter planes, and obscure histories, etc.), I’ve always been a big fan of mustard.  Not the neon yellow stuff you squirt in a squiggly line on a hot dog out of a grenade shaped bottle, but rather the French Dijon and Old-Fashion grainy mustard eaten alongside chicken breasts and steaks.  My parents had to persuade me that sometimes my meat had enough flavor on its own that mustard was unnecessary.  But honestly, mustard-love truly is one of my authentically French qualities.
You can tell it's ancient because of
the grimy old pot and the primitive
seed crushing technolog.
Therefore it was both gratifying and very appropriate-seeming when I noticed mustard flavored chips on the snack-food aisle in both of the major French grocery stores we frequent.  Now, I believe I have already seen Dijon-flavored mustard chips in the United States on one occasion, but these chips were sporting Old-style (or ‘ancient’) mustard.  Dijon mustard is much more recognized in the United States, (open up any textbook with a definition for ‘snob appeal’ and Grey Poupon will inevitably be cited) and I agree it is rightly a classic, but I’ve become more of a fan of Old Style mustard as I continue to inch closer and closer to the nursing home.  This is a grainy mustard, more vinegary in flavor, slightly closer to ‘American’ brown mustard in taste but far more classy by virtue of its seeded texture.  It also goes wonderfully with roast or corned beef sandwiches, as immortalized by a memorable torturer of Humanity's last, best hope for peace.  (Skip ahead to 2:01 on the video) 
So when I first bit into these, I was left pretty disappointed for the glaring lack of vinegar flavor that came with these chips.  It’s pretty simple: moutard a l’ancienne= vinegary sour tang, and chips = not vinegary at all.  Obviously, I want there to be more than just vinegar, but a complete lack is a serious miscalculation in my opinion.  Just as importantly, they aren’t particularly spicy, which is kind of the raison d’etre of mustard in the first place!
Mustard Seed: now this is the real
stuff!  Fittingly enough, it's rather
reminiscent of explosive pellets.
My appreciation for these did grow somewhat over time, however.  As is often the case, the chips at the bottom of the bag had more flavoring than the top, and these did exhibit an admirably effective mustard-seed flavor, (and mustard seeds are indeed at the top of the ingredient list!), with an appropriate mix of onion and salty overtones.  If they had only mixed in an appropriate amount of vinegar they would have been perfect, but the better coated chips still conveyed a fairly convincing mustard-seed flavor.
I final word in their favor- while the chips do indeed have ‘old fashioned’ mustard, the title of the chips actually reflects the quality of the crisps, which is the French way of saying they are more-akin to kettle baked.  In this regard, I must praise the general quality of the potato crisps themselves, which were crunchy and rumply, and sold in above average quantity and quality at a below average price.

Stars: 2/4
Spiciness Rating: Very Mild

Pros:
-Evocative mustard seed flavor, made with real mustard seeds!
-Excellent thickly textured crisps at a bargain price

Cons:
-Hardly any vinegar flavor in a mustard chip?  For reallz?
-Not spicy either!
-Uneven flavor coating leaves top of the bag inferior to the bottom

Monday, March 28, 2011

Lay’s Max-Craquante Saveur Pizza Pepperoni

Note: There is a similar sounding product titled 'Lay's Limited Edition Pepperoni Pizza', though I can't confirm if it is the same product.  The reviews I've seen for it have all been in Dutch, but this does suggest the possibility they may be available in the United States.

I had a bit of a WTF moment when I first had these, because they didn’t immediately fit in to what I expected from the etablished genre of pizza-flavored chip.  Italianish-herbs, check, but other than that they were spicy-hot and had a sort of intensive meat flavor that threw me off.  Then I looked again at the package, and I figured out what it was all about.


If you are concerned that there is
insufficient grease, we will helpfully
provide you with more.

Permit me to describe to you a certain kind of pizza which most of us have encountered in our school days- (and don’t bother saying, I haven’t been to college!- because high school cafeterias and McDonalds take-out pizzas are still in the same category).  Picture a round, crunchy thick crust, little to no tomato sauce, and baked mozzarella cheese, cooked till it’s covered with brown spot, covered in patches of red oil.  Spotting the pizza like polka dots are slices of thick, spicy pepperoni, baked in the oven till the edges are crunchy while the centers remain tender and dimpled , pooling with reddish oil that is spilling over into the cheese.  Not exactly authentic Italian pizza, but a very American variant, and quite possibly delicious if fresh out of the oven.

It’s that school-cafeteria pepperoni pizza flavor- with emphasis on the spicy peperoni, baked cheese, a hint of garlic and Italian herbs- that is so evocatively captured by these chips.  The spiciness provides some welcome prickling in the throat, but nothing strong enough to bother all but the most extreme of spice-phobes.  The chips themselves are medium-sized ruffled rounds with a light speckling of green herbs, and as advertised, they are ‘extra crunchy’- they provide a more satisfying crackle-and-pop than some of the more oil sodden ruffle chips, though they are still not quite up to being kettle cooked quality, of course.

In summary, I found myself very pleasantly inspired to relive the cheap thrills of spicy American pepperoni pizza, and that creativity in the flavor matched to a decent quality in the chips themselves. I can only hope they’re selling something similar back in the states for when I return!

Stars: 3/4
Spiciness Rating: Mild

Pros:
- Awesome cafeteria pepperoni pizza flavor
- Pleasing mild salty-spiciness is redolent of baked pepperoni
- Thick crunchy ruffle chip texture is above average

Cons:
- There’s basically nothing wrong with what they are, but some might object to what they aren’t: some less specific pizza flavor, or that they aren’t kettle chips

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Chili Cheese Fritos

         Many bizarre contrivances have crawled out from the moist dens of college cafeterias, conceived in an effort to feed the masses of impressionable young students only recently weaned off mom’s home cooking with whatever combination of cheap ingredients were at hand.  One that I recall fairly vividly as both hilarious but reasonably edible was Frito casserole, a mixture of ground beef, refried beens, and cheddar cheese, a sprinkling of lettuce and tomatoes on top, and soggy Fritos.  Yes, you heard that correctly.  I can only imagine how some cafeteria quartermaster decided “Yes, let’s buy Fritos in bulk and make casserole with it!”
A Texas BBQ joint apparently had a
similar idea, offering up Frito Pie.
However, this version seems consider-
ably tastier, as it includes beef brisket
and barbecue sauce.  Still, Fritos and
bean casserole, together again!
            I actually recall it with faint nostalgia; not something I’d go out of my way to make myself, but it wasn’t bad (in a greasy American-style taco sort of way) and it was a unique product of our academic community- oh yeah, that and educated young minds brimming with promise, ready to die ashamed they had not already won a victory for humanity.  Look it where that got us.  
      Anyway, the Chili Cheese Fritos I happened upon in my mother-in-law's cupboard (how much like a creepy old fairy-tale does that sound?) very pleasantly evoked that old cafeteria special- as well as it should remind anyone else who has had chili with cheddar on top.  Overtop a nice cheesy flavor made (according to the package) with romano and cheddar, there are ‘taco’ spices, one of which I can say with certainty is cumin, not something I expect to find on any ordinary chip!  The reddish-brown flavoring is spread with a pleasing consistency and I found it to be well balanced with the natural flavor of the corn chips, unlike another Fritos product which will I shall leave unnamed.
This website featuring 'college cooking'
actually features a recipe for Frito Pie.
     So overall, I was pleasantly surprised that the Chili-Cheese Fritos delivered a unique flavor effectively, were competently executed, and brought me back over five years to the days I was flunking chemistry and getting hit on by my wife.  Admittedly, I probably won’t buy them in quantity because spicy-chili Fritos are not the sort of itch I frequently need to scratch, but it’s there if you want it, and it’s well done for what it is.

Stars: 2½/4
Spiciness Rating: Very Mild

Pros:
- If you harbor nostalgic sentiments American style tacos and ‘Mexican’ casserole from the school cafeteria, this will hit your spot.
- Taco spice flavoring, with its hints of cumin, is more sophisticated than you would expect and is well coated on the Fritos

Cons:
- How often do you think to yourself, “Mmmm, I really feel like going out for some school cafeteria food tonight.”

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Lays Chips a L’Ancienne Saveur Jambon Fume

(Old-Fashioned Smoked-Ham Flavor)

Have you ever finished watching a movie and thought to yourself- “Wow, what an amazing twist in the plot.  Too bad the characters, setting, cinematography, and dialogue ranged from direly boring to utterly crappy.”  It’s those kinds of films that get one thing right, do it so very well, but are full of tragic fail by being deficient in every other regard.

I’m perhaps over playing the link here with the ‘Smoked Ham’ flavored chips from Lays I recently tried out, but basically my complaint is that it pulls off a pretty clever trick with the flavor, but fails to follow up anything particularly interesting thereafter.  It’s like a student that show up to class with a snazzy intro for their Power Point presentation, hoping to get away with having done almost no research outside of Wikipedia.  (We’ve probably all been that person at least once in our lives…)  


That aisle on the left is all ham.
Seriously.

This is yet another flavor I found in Europe which I have yet to see in the US- ‘smoked ham’- and so I was pretty intrigued from the get go.  Ham is THE lunch meat in France- go to the grocery store or deli.  No roast beef in sight.  Bologna need not apply- save for the occassional package of mortadella.  But aside from some sliced chick or turkey, there are at least two dozens varieties of ham on sale at the super market. What, don't you want some pate or sliced table sausage with your bread?  Perhaps you should buy a tasty ham sandwich with butter and mustard from the boulangerie?  So in a sense, ham chips are obvious here. 

The chips inside are slightly above average quality salty potato crisps, and when you first bite into them you immediately are hit by an evocative buttery-ham flavor.  However, while the flavor is very cleverly done, the problem with a very salty ham flavor is that after a bite or two, it tastes nearly identical to salty potato chip flavor.  So about three mouthfuls in, you will easily forget that you are eating ‘ham-flavored’ chips and just process them as being the regular sort.

Sometimes a lack of subtly is a virtue.
More ham, not less!
Now as regular potato chips, they are unexceptional though in no way 'bad', but I can’t help but feel that they miss the mark.  I want my ham flavored potato chips to be more hammy, a la William Shatner, something complex enough to continue stimulating the tongue, not a brief sort of amuse-guelle that is quickly washed away in a wave of generic saltiness.  So while there are no major faults with these chips, I cannot help but rate them critically for their lack of panache.  The initial flavor as it hits the tongue is intriguing, but no further delights follow it as you probe too deeply.  Like too many movies today, these chips offer a shallow experience with only a brief flash of innovation, no matter how cunning.

Stars: 1 ½
Spiciness Rating: none

Pros:
- Buttery ham flavor is at first uncanny and amusing.
- Decent texture

Cons:
- After the initial few bites, they begin to taste exactly like regular potato chips.
- Relies to heavily on saltiness rather than additional flavoring to evoke ham

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Monoprix Soufflés Croustillants Cacahuetes Grillees

Some of you must be expecting that I’m about to review soufflé flavored Cheetos, which would definitely be awesome (though hard to envision I must admit), but Soufflé actually just means ‘puffed-up’ in French, and in this case is referring to corn-puffs a la Cheetos.  And, as mentioned in an earlier review of a very similar product, what better flavor to coat corn puffs with then peanuts?

My review of Lorenz’s Curly Cacahuete chips ended on a dissatisfactory note, and I was left feeling that peanut-flavored corn puffs perhaps deserved to be revisited in a higher-quality rendition.  Well, as fate had it, my housemate Clemente recently left a public bowl full of Monoprix’s own version of the same product on the table, and I was pleased to find that by improving the texture and adding a subtle grilled flavor the final product was significantly improved.

My original discontent with the Lorenz chips stemmed from two factors: first of all, that fundamentally I want my peanut-flavored chips to taste sweet like peanut butter, and secondly, that the texture was crap, too hard on the outside and too airy on the inside.  The second problem was addressed by Monoprix’s chips, which featured a richer, denser, more buttery texture worthy of any Cheeto, which made them much more of a pleasure to eat.  So, texture going from crap to good = happy.

My concern over the lack of sweetness remains, though there were some improvements to the flavor that made these chips more satisfying: perhaps a dash more of sugar, and a subtle ‘grilled’ flavor which made things all together more interesting.  So, while I still want a product that is sweeter and I wouldn’t necessarily go out of my way have to more of these, they are actually pretty decent for absent minded snacking and are probably worth a try just to see where you stand on the whole peanut-flavored-cheetos issue.

Stars: 2 ½
Spiciness Rating: none

Pros:
- Strong peanut flavor emulation, now with grilled overtones and a hint more sweetness
- Buttery crunchy texture is just right for a cornpuff snack

Cons:
- Still not as as sweet as peanut butter

Monday, February 21, 2011

Belin Croustilles Fromage de Chevre (aka Goat-Cheese Cheetos)

Every now and then when wading overseas amidst the mundane everyday things of another culture we come across some artifact which happens to perfectly capture the zeitgeist in some shockingly provocative way.  And what could more perfectly capture the encroachment of globalization on the traditional-yet-innovative French than Goat-Cheese flavored Cheetos?  The concept alone is gold, and the fact that they actually taste like goat cheese just makes it better!

Mind you, these are not of course made by Frito-Lay, but they are the same material and same shape, if not of course the same flavor, and they do have a slightly different, less dense consistency.  The product line appears to be called ‘Croustille’, a word dervied from croustillant (KROO-STEEY-AHN) which gets translated as 'crusty', but the term captures a concept of crunchy-on-the-outsides-and-tender-on-the-inside-dness that has no equal in the English language as far as I know.  Being like Cheetos, of course, the insides are not particularly soft, but at least the title is evocative.

Tastes just like goat.  But I mean that
in a good way.
The texture, as I noted, is not quite as dense and oily as Cheetos, but still superior to certain other airy Cheeto-like products I have had, but anyway if you’re trying these out, you’re really looking for flavor not texture.  And the flavor, I have to say is spot on, and uncannily like goat cheese.  Now, how you feel about that will depend on your relationship with goat cheese, and whether you feel you can tolerate it anywhere but in its traditional scraped-on-bread setting.  Personally, I endorse this heartily; it aptly mixes the mild salty flavors of goat cheese along with the subtly acrid after taste- and it must be emphasized that the after taste is kept well under control and shouldn’t offend anyone.  Though I was initially a little wierded-out by Goat-cheese corn puffs, I quickly grew to enjoy them without even a moment’s cognitive dissonance, and overall I found them a delightful evolution of an old favorite.
This + Cheetos = awesome.  As
long as you like goat cheese...

Stars: 3/4
Spiciness Rating : none

Pros :
- Delightfully evocative goat cheese flavor
- Classic Cheeto-like texture still a pleasure for the tongue
- So stereotypically French, it’s practically a parody of globalization!

Cons:
- Must like, or at least tolerate, goat cheese

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


Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Late Night Cheeseburger Doritos

           Every now and then I come across something that is a remarkable feat of flavor-engineering, and I must confess that it is clear that the flavorists at Doritos HQ have really outdone themselves with the Late Night Cheeseburger Doritos.  I will be the first to admit that I have never particularly craved to eat cheeseburger-flavored chips before, but with the very first Nacho I was stunned with how startlingly well they had emulated the flavor in all of its complexity, and these chips are fun to eat simply for both their novelty and for distinguishing the various discrete flavors which have been cunningly blended together.
            Now, just so we’re all on the same page, these are your standard triangular Dorito chips with the crunchy texture and the orange-flavoring powder.  But oh, the flavors!  The strongest flavors you will get off the bat are the pickles and yellow mustard, just like you would get on a typical McDonald’s hamburger.  Now, I have never been a McDonald’s burger fan, honestly, and normally favor ketchup over mustard with no pickles as topping, but these two flavors alone brought back a rich vein of childhood Happy Meal memories. 
Second, there is a more subtle but very satisfying grilled beef flavor, which blends perfectly in with the presumed toppings of mustard and pickles.  (The package lists ‘natural beef flavoring’ as one of its ingredients, for what it’s worth.)  There is also a hint of onion in there, although the flavor is mixed in a bit with that of the mustard. 
Finally, there is your typical Doritos ‘cheddar’ flavoring present as well, which although prominent, is so ordinary compared to the other elements that it does not stand out as much.  (Ironically, while the ordinary Doritos cheddar flavor is quite tasty on its own right, I’ve never really thought of it as tasting like actual cheddar cheese, which perhaps detracts from its effectiveness in this particular case.)
            So in summary, you not only get five excellent distinct flavors in one chip, but they combine together in a manner which is remarkably effective in evoking the flavor of an actual cheeseburger, (or hamburger, at least, as the ‘cheesy’ portion is more like a typical Dorito.)  I can happily recommend these as a very pleasing novelty, my only reservation being that they emulate such a specific and peculiar concept that you may not wish to eat them on a regular basis.

Stars: 3/4
Spiciness Rating: None

Pros:
-Brilliantly innovative and powerfully evocative of actual Cheesebergers
-Five interesting flavors that are fun to discover and tease apart from the rest

Cons:
-Peculiar flavor combination may not be something you want to experience every day