Here's an indication of how chip-centric my life's been lately -- last night on the subway home from work, a man stepped onto the train, and from 10 or so feet away, I could tell, just by spotting a smidge of the bottom corner of his chip bag, that he was enjoying some Deep River Snacks Olive Oil & Rosemary Potato Chips. I've tasted well over 150 varieties of plain and flavored chips in the past two months (and have learned to rely on plain lettuce for all my other sustenance), but in the taste test linked below have no doubt skipped over one of your faves. I wanna know which ones they are, so please shout it out in the comments section. List of chips is after the jump.
At AOL Food, we are currently conducting a flavored potato chip taste test. In order to ensure that we received a national breadth o' crispy taters, we hooked up with Anchor's Chip of the Month Club, and man alive did those chiphounds deliver! Among their mysterious inclusions, I found California Chips' "Earthquake" Potato Chips.
Earthquake? Um, huh? My mind went in a couple directions:
These chips are actually plain (erroneously placed in the "flavored box"), but they have such a hardcore crunch that when you bite down, your teeth and skull shatter, much like your Grandma's Ming during an earthquake.
These chips are so obscenely spicy that the burning tongue'n'throat pain can only be accurately captured with comparisons to undue destruction. (Although in that case, a more apropos disaster descriptor might have been "1871 Great Chicago Fire.")
These chips are flavored with sedimentary salt and damp peppercorns, evoking an air of rubble and must.
These chips are, simply, naturally disastrous.
It wasn't until a co-worker suggested, "Maybe it just means that a bunch of spices are all shaken together, like an everything bagel." Oh. Well isn't she rational! Rational and, as it turns out, correct.
According to California Chips, Earthquake is "a mixture of several of our most popular flavors all together." Indeed, upon braving the Earthquake, I discover the smoky sweetness of Honey Barbecue, the slight bite of Creamy Chipotle, the cool herb of Sour Cream & Onion, and the tongue-tingle of Salt & Vinegar - all sublimated into one deliciously nonsensical flavorsphere. For someone like me, who doesn't discriminate against any chip flavor, these Earthquake chips will make grocery shopping a breeze. But I still maintain they need a more appropriate name. Like "Stonehenge."
Do you have a food that came to symbolize a period of time in your life? For me, that would be Zapp's potato chips. The chips came to be a symbol of my college years, and all the time I spent hanging out with friends in local bars.
Before I started going to the bars downtown, I had never heard of Zapp's. Those chips just happened to be ubiquitous to the bars in Athens, GA, where I went to college. However, as they were the some of the only food available at the bars, I did munch down my fair share of them. The chips, with names like Spicy Cajun Crawtators and Cajun Dill Gator-tators, are pretty good, though not the best. The flavors are on the unique side and they are always nice and crunchy.
I haven't had Zapp's in a very long time. I've had them since graduating from college, but I don't eat much in the way of potato chips as part of my long term health goals. Even though I don't eat them, just seeing a bag takes me back to the good times I had, hanging out with friends at the local pub. Do you have a food memory like this?
For years, I avoided potato chip flavors other than the occasional dip into sour cream & onion. And then I found Miss Vickie's, which have quickly become my guilty flavorful snack. Instead of just the classic concoctions, the Canadian brand looks outside the box with combinations like lime with pepper, roasted red pepper grill, sweet chili with sour cream, and my simple favorite: Honey and Roasted Garlic.
I half love this brand because the flavors are so intense that it keeps me from eating more than a handful or two. But that's not quite the case with the honey/garlic variety. It's an incredibly smooth-flavored chip that has the potent taste of garlic that's cut with the vaguely there sweetness of honey. If you're a garlic fiend, these chips should be crispy, garlicy heaven.
Merge that with some tasty dip or maybe some sharp cheddar, and the whole thing is even better.
The last time I was in Boulder, I spent most of the time in the hospital with a broken elbow. I fell off of a horse because the saddle was not properly tightened. The main thing that kept me happy in all my pain was Glacier Ice Cream. You didn't think I was going to say the potato chips, did you? That ice cream was some of the best ice cream I've ever had. Please, Glacier, open one in St. Louis! Oh, right, I'm not a fan of chains. I forgot for a second there.
I discovered Boulder Canyon potato chips not in Boulder but in an incredible locally owned general store in St. Louis (hopefully I redeemed my support for local business with that comment). I wanted to pick up some chips to try as part of AOL's upcoming flavored chip taste test and Boulder Canyon Sea Salt and Cracked Pepper Chips met two basic criteria:
They were all natural. I would normally buy organic chips, but the shop didn't have any organic ones.
Sea salt and cracked pepper is a flavor that my husband loves. This is particularly important since I don't eat many chips. If he didn't like them, the chips would live to be old and soggy.
How did my husband and I like the chips? At first, I thought they were too spicy (I might still think they are too spicy), but I can't stop eating them. More importantly, my husband loved them! The bag is almost empty. Danger: do not keep an open bag of these anywhere near where you will be working or watching TV.
T.G.I. Friday's actually makes a bunch of snack foods that you can buy in supermarkets, including Baked Onion Rings, Quesadilla, and Mozzarella Sticks. But the only one I've ever latched onto are the Cheddar & Bacon Potato Skins.
These things can't be that great for you (cheddar, bacon, and salt in a chip form?), but who cares? They're very baked potato-ish and hearty, perfect to have with a sandwich. I usually have plain potato chips with a sandwich (not sure why, maybe I don't want any competition between the flavors of the sandwich and the chip), but I make an exception for these.
These aren't easy to find, at least in my area. I usually have better luck finding them at CVS or Rite-Aid than I do the big supermarkets.
From up north (Canada) come these delicious chips that I didn't even know about until this year: Miss Vickie's! I'm addicted to their Country Onion and 3 Cheese (which, oddly, I can't even find on their site).
Actually, Miss Vickie makes some other great flavors, some rather unique chips you a lot of other companies don't make, including Roasted Red Pepper Grill (which my local supermarket never has for some reason), Sea Salt & Malt Vinegar, Honey & Roasted Garlic, and Lime and Black Pepper. But it's the onion and cheese flavor I'm most drawn to. It's the type of chip that tastes like it has dip on it, and the flavor is very strong (but not that fake taste you often get with potato chips).
When I was a kid, I was hopelessly addicted to Munchos, the chips that Julie wrote about earlier. I still like them, but my current love affair has turned to Natural Lays Thick Cut Potato Chips with Sea Salt.
These fantastic chips are shelved (in my supermarket, anyway) in the aisle with the other "fancy" or gourmet chips: Kettle, Terra Red Bliss, and others. I'm not really sure why. There's nothing particularly different about them (unless you count orgasmic taste as different) and they're not exactly healthy (sorry, the "Natural" in the title is probably very true, but that doesn't mean these are low fat or low calorie). They should probably be in the regular chip aisle. Then again, if they were, more people would buy them and my store would probably run out and I'd be upset that night.
When we set out to find the best of the bunch, we don't go spuddin' around. With the help of Anchor's Chip of the Month, AOL Food's panel munched, crunched, nibbled and gobbled our way through nearly 5 dozen kinds of plain potato chips in search of the tip top chip in all the land. See if you agree with our findings, or if we totally skipped over your favorite tater.
(Note to folks who are writing in saying they can't find the winner -- just use the arrows to navigate through the gallery. The results are ranked down from 15-1. And we hear ya! Cape Cod will definitely be in the next batch of reviews.)
The flavored chip tasting will follow in a few weeks, after our sodium levels normalize.
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.
I grew up in a household that was nearly devoid of junk food. My sister and I each got a single box of sugar cereal each year (on our birthdays), Halloween candy was strictly rationed and bread was dark and made from whole wheat. Potato chips were very definitely a special, once-in-a-very-great-while kind of treat.
Because of the chip control that went on during my childhood, the moments when they did appear on the scene remain present in my memory, even 20+ years later. They became especially associated with roadtrips for me, as my dad would insist that we have some "car snacks" and my mom, who actually loves potato chips, would cave to the special occasion energy.
We'd make a stop at Trader Joe's or some other local natural foods store for thick-cut, kettle cooked potato chips (Kettle Chips play a prominent role in my memories, but the TJ's Hawaiian-style chips also showed up fairly regularly). Handfuls would be carefully doled out to my sister and me in the back seat of the station wagon and we'd slowly crunch our way through our portions. Raina would suck all the salt off the chips before eating, where I'd nibble along the edges, trying to make the treat last as long as possible. We'd ask for seconds and would get them, until my mom determined that we'd all had enough (typically determined by her own salt/grease satiation level), and folded up the bag, tucking it down by her feet for safekeeping.
These days, I occasionally buy a bag of Kettle Chips (I had a salt and vinegar phase during college) but I am untrustworthy around open bags of potato chips. They call to me until I surrender and crunch my way through the entire bag. However, while I do enjoy them, potato chips now are never quite as delightful as those measured handfuls of chips that we'd eat while criss-crossing the highways of the west coast.
A jar of honey can become a sticky mess. Next time you're adding honey to another dish or a mug of tea, use a honey dipper to prevent a thick gooey layer from spreading.