I don't have much of a relationship with potato chips these days. I consider them a guilty treat, to be eaten at parties but never at home. It's like having soda in the house -- if I buy it, they will eat it. And if they eat it, chips, I mean, they'll be hooked, and I'll never hear the end of it. The best I can offer my kids is the occasional package of tortilla chips, something to dredge up the salsa with.Ah, but I have a past. And my past is filled with processed foods of the sort that I'd never let my kids near, lest they come to understand the dark pleasures of Hostess products.
My parents had no such compunction with me. I grew up on Wonder Bread and TV dinners and Uncle Ben's Converted Rice. I ate a Hostess Fruit Pie almost every day. But among my most treasured taste memories: Munchos brand potato chips.
Cakes so amazing they'd be hard to cut into
Fruit juice: An invitation to diabetes?
Morbid thoughts? Have a cookie
