Bacon Steak and Tomato Doritos 'n' Chips for Highball

"Your mom. Champagne glass. 64% classier." - Your Mom Is Clubbin'
Here at Foodette, we prioritize a number of elite values in the food blogging world, not the least of which is "above all, pretension." And everyone knows that Japanified versions of American snacks designed to pair with cocktails are pretentious, to say the least, without even mentioning that these chips are endorsed by an expert, Japan's best sommelier in 1995, Shinya Tasaki. Hell yes? I mean, look at this guy's face. Sniffing out of a Riedel Burgundy glass in a tuxedo. I would trust everything that man said even if he told me he could take me on a tour of Hell in between sips of DRC La Tache.
J-List sent these over for us to try. According to the description, Mr. Tasaki and Frito-Lay formulated these chips to ride on the coattails of the burgeoning Asian wine market sales. Because nothing goes as well with an $8,000 bottle of 1947 Petrus like Doritos and Sun Chips, am I right? This particular flavor was designed to pair well with cocktails, presumably ones you can enjoy with Tasaki's $200 corkscrew and bottle opener. The bag has two different types of chips, flavored like bacon steak and tomato ketchup. The chips are smaller than your average Dorito but still have the rounded edges and thicker crunch of Japanese Doritos. The scent is pungent, like getting a noseful of Spanish paprika and tomato sauce, with an almost cloying initial sweetness wafting up from the bag.
The Doritos were definitely more successful than the Sun Chips, with a light, crispy crunch and wonderful flavor. These tasted like the Herr's Heinz ketchup chips but with a deeper, richer tomato sauce flavor, with a brown sugar edge and garlic bite to them. They were very sweet, but not in a way that made them inedible or incongruous with the rest of the chips. The natural sweet, oily flavor of the corn chip was a wonderful carrier of the ketchup flavor. It sort of put regular ketchup to shame as I felt that the flavor was just deeper and tangier, more of a marinara but somehow sweeter. Unique and a little strange to adjust to, but tasty.
The Sun Chips were supposed to mimic the exact flavor of the giant, quivering bacon slab on the package. A tough act to follow. And they crumbled in the face of porcine goodness, providing a weak smoky flavor dominated by the corny heft of the chip. No bacon, no fattiness, nothing that would have suggested meat or even barbecue sauce. It mainly tasted like ground black pepper and corn, not a bad flavor profile, but also not bacon. I've noted this before in Japanese Cheetos- all of the chips are much thicker and the denser ones end up having a dry noodle-like texture. Not a bad thing, but also kind of strange to get used to.
So the chips were good on their own, but what about alongside a few drinks? In one of the most stupidly surreal Foodette photoshoots ever, we documented the success of these chips as snacks and as cocktail pairings with what else? Bakon vodka, because you can't eat bacon chips without drinking a bacon drink. Says so somewhere in the Bible or something.
We made three cocktails, two contemporary and one classic to try with the chips. Our first cocktail didn't utilize bacon outside of a small curled garnish. It was a classic gin and tonic, nothing more, nothing less. The sweet cooked tomato flavor of the Doritos really amplified the sweet juniper notes in the gin, but neither was so sweet as to feel like a dessert or candy.
The second cocktail was kind of a "kitchen sink" style drink to gross out Miss Love and also see how the chips held up with a little spice. Enter the Flaming Bacon- bacon vodka, hot pepper vodka, Prometheus Springs pomegranate black pepper juice, club soda, and a salsa dipped bacon garnish. Despite the grocery list of ingredients and the science beaker presentation, it didn't taste like ass and the chips held up to the spice of the drink. It was surprisingly the best combination of the triad.
Our last drink failed and completely overwhelmed the chips. The Broker's Breakfast had hazelnut espresso vodka, bacon vodka, milk, and club soda. It was atrociously flavored and discordant with a fake sweetener aftertaste. The creaminess destroyed the flavors of the chips with a filmy, boozy tang. But aside from that, it seemed like the chips actually were congruent with fruity, tangy, and even spicy drinks. Then again, what salty snack isn't? These would be a unique alternative to a traditional pub mix, but didn't seem wildly outside of the realm of other sodium-laden nibbles designed to sop up booze. Maybe the wine-based Doritos will prove to be more successful.

Poca Nori Seaweed Chips

Here's yet another product kindly provided by my globe-trotting boss. This time, she and her husband went to Vietnam for a vacation filled with hiking and kayaking, but they also spent some time in larger cities. One of the snacks she brought back to share with the office was seaweed flavored potato chips.

Seaweed isn't a strange flavor to anyone familiar with Japanese snacks, and the dominant flavor in seaweed snacks is typically salt. These particular chips were made by Lay's, which is called Poca in Vietnam. Several of my coworkers tried the nori chips, and most enjoyed them.


The chips got a bit damaged in transit, but not crushed too badly. They smelled salty and a bit sweet. The chips had the texture of Pringles (Lay's calls their version Stax). As expected, the seaweed chips mostly tasted salty, with just a hint of sweetness and a very faintly "fishy" aftertaste.

Overall, the flavor was very mild. The aftertaste was noticeable, but not unpleasant. I like seaweed, but even people who don't like it enjoyed these chips. They were pretty addictive!

B+

Pepsico website (Vietnamese)

Zapp's Voodoo Potato Chips

Some people are easy to please. Not me. I could never figure out the motives someone who was able to go to the movies and feel satisfied with a small popcorn, sans salt, butter, or smuggled cheese sauce, never mind passing up the litany of candies and Slurpees along the way. I can't go to a barbecue that lacks thirty flavors of mustard and ten different artisanal sausages, and I rarely order a pizza that isn't buried under a glut of toppings.

So you'd think I'd be pleased to find these potato chips, which are not only a total sensory overload with the aesthetic simplicity of a Magic Eye, but also an homage to one of life's creepiest regional quirks, voodoo. Another particularly bratty habit of mine. I'm not big on chips without dip, nor pretzels without mustard. Unadorned junk food just doesn't do it for me. Zapp's is an elusive potato chip company from some region in the US with a large concentration of sports teams. I don't know, I don't follow cricket. Whatever. It's rare to find these chips in their limited edition flavors, unless, of course, you check out Big Lots! It really is my new favorite hookup for discontinued products and hookups. This flavor, Voodoo, is less Santeria-style chicken heads and entrails and more "whoops, due to a carefully controlled employee mishap at our factory, we came out with this flavor" deal. I tell you, that shit would not fly at a CDC testing facility, no siree. Kind of uncanny how often that happens. Maybe they shouldn't hire voodoo dolls as employees any more. Note that there is unfortunately no gris-gris at the bottom of the bag. Collect them all!

While I normally try to avoid kettle chips as they invariably get stuck in my soft palate, I bought these out of a weakness for the visual design. Look at this bag and tell me you don't want to get it tattooed on your bicep, crazy-colored dolls, neon script, and all. Or at least commission a loud shirt out of the basic design. The backstory is mild in comparison, though, as are the cutesy phone order and computer graphics on the back. Opening the bag, I was immediately hit by a blast of tangy vinegar, salt, and the brown sugar paprika sweetness of barbecue. A good sign, if unoriginal. The chips are softer than the average kettle chip, although they do still fracture into a kazillion pieces upon impact and have a lot of surface area and curling to catch a good amount of seasoning in the cooking process.

The flavor is hard to pin down, starting with an acidic kick of vinegar and then morphing into a combination of sugary barbecue with an end result almost identical to the tomatoey sweetness in a bag of Herr's Heinz Ketchup chips. The chip's heavy garlic and onion influence and crisp, slightly greasy texture lend an almost chickeny flavor and feel to the chip, which is unique but not completely welcomed. It's definitely a snack with an identity crisis. I'm not beyond new combinations and ideas, but I wasn't seeing any congruent theme in this chip that made me want to go back for more. As hokey as it seems, surely a company wouldn't completely throw caution to the wind and just let the production of a flavor happen accidentally with no science behind the flavors? It was too sweet and too sharp for my liking and just didn't make a whole lot of sense.

What I really wanted with these was a kick of heat. I solved the problem by dipping them into some salsa verde until I realized that the only reason I was eating the chips was to have something as a vehicle to eat the salsa with short of pouring it into my mouth. Even with sauce added, there was just something off about these chips that didn't quite make them regular players in my lunch box.

Archer Farms Greek-Inspired Thick-Cut Potato Chips

The geniuses at Industrial Snack and Magic have created yet another mind-morphing flavor of potato chip, brought to you by Target, to blow your mind and gently caress your tongue. And really, who wouldn't want the vague flavors of a Greek gyro in a small, single-serving bag? Nazis, that's who. And even they would warm up to the description of feta cheese and kalamata olives. It's a veritable freaking medley, is what it is! Although we found these in miniature bags on clearance, they were perfectly fresh and crisp. Maybe snack bags of salad inspired chips just aren't on kids' radars outside of kids in UES schools.
In any case, these were eaten in the car, paired with a slice of leftover birthday cake and gummy rabbits. A most balanced pairing, one of my finest. Archer Farms is a professional at this strangely flavored potato chip racket, a riverboat snacker, if you will, and this happens to be one of their better flavors. While I'm not a fan of the ruffled texture, the flavor was fairly accurate for an ingredient rap list that included cheddar cheese and the ever-generic "spices". It had the pleasantly unobtrusive tang of feta, and while it may not have completely evoked the crumbly, wet texture of the cheese, it certainly got its flavor down pat. The olives were a stretch. By stretch, I mean they were nonexistent. I suppose my tongue isn't enough attuned to the nuances of olives to discern its specific provenance, but it tasted like the olives hopped the ship once they learned they weren't going to garnish one of Giada De Laurentiis's RI-GAAAAHT-AAAAH dinners and sent in vinegar as a replacement. Tangy cheese and...tangier condiment. Felt like I'd eaten the good bits of a salad.
Original though it was, some things were never meant to be potato chips, Greek food one of them. The flavors were present, but overshadowed by the potato chip itself in all its likeable yet greasy personality. The Guy Fieri of all snacks. Though I can't help but wonder what a culinary trip around the globe would be in places where balut is the regional specialty. Knowing the companies behind them, they'd find a way to make even partially fertilized duck fetuses bland and overly salted. For 75 cents, this served its noble purpose as an interlude between meals, a brief distraction from the dining halls, but on any grander scale, it would just fall flat.

Chuao Potato Chips in Chocolate Bar

Resting in the shadow of salted everything, the chocolate covered potato chip fad seemed to be a popular item on etsy alone. It didn't seem like a terribly marketable concept, either. Large chip companies couldn't manufacture them due to heat issues and ingredient sourcing, and most chocolatiers seemed to find them gauche, their eyes lit by the sophisticated salted caramel or ganache. Luckily, Chuao has picked up the chip and developed their newest bar, an easier to eat, more sophisticated version of the popular snack. As their full-sized bars and pods are, this bar is no exception to their stunningly molded cocoa bean design. It's a visually appealing bar, not to mention that it matched perfectly with my new 70's era rec room color and design scheme- burnt orange and wooden bar nibble bowl for the win. Professional food stylist, I am not.

Using kettle chips for an unctuous crunch and milk chocolate for a mellow sweetness to contrast the saltier elements, the bar is a smashing success. The chips are broken up into small shards, which enable them to be layered within the bar and bring a massive crunch to every bite. We didn't have a single one that wasn't loud and crispy, just like eating regular chips. There was a slight oiliness to the chips that brought out the richness of the bar, and the saltiness was a superb counterpart to the sugars in the chocolate.

As far as saltiness and crunch went, I found this to be more successful than the Panko bar, though equally enjoyable. It's a bold, sassy bar with nothing to hide or disguise, like certain mommy blogs or Michael Jackson. This just packed in more chunks of chip in each bite than the Panko did, for my salt-craving tastebuds, anyhow. Yet it's not too salty so as to detract from the wonderfully milky, sweet 41% milk chocolate that mad scientist/genius chocolatier Michael Antonorsi blends together. It has a firm snap and texture that easily cut into strips without crumbling (not to mention surviving the drive from Washington, DC to Massachusetts in a small bag) and was the perfect pairing for the salty chips, though I would have preferred a deeper, more complex flavor. It's missing some of the more dark, caramelized flavors I'm drawn to. I think milk chocolate was the right choice for this bar. Anything else would have overwhelmed the flavor of the chips.

At $6 a bar, this is a unique yet approachable selection or gift for eaters wishing to make a successful foray into stranger chocolates without splurging on these $19 Neiman-Marcus Pringles knock-offs. It's not the weirdest flavor combination I've ever had, but it carries a nostalgic set of flavors tied to comfort in a contemporary pairing, which makes for an incredibly succulent snack or dessert.

PopChips Jalapeno Potato

"Of all the wonders of nature, a tree in summer is perhaps the most remarkable; with the possible exception of a moose singing "Embraceable You" in spats." -Woody Allen

Let's go right ahead and add hot peppers to that list. While I can't deny the irresistible appeal of George Gershwin, the sweet sultry smack of spices and heat knocks the song right off my personal list of wonders of nature. While perusing the fare of the Fancy Food Show, I came across the latest from PopChips. In its four years of business, I feel like a proud cousin, once removed, for I've watched their quirky snack go against its regal siblings, the Dorito, the Cheeto, the potato chip, with an angle unlike any other. It has imitated, it has trailblazed, and now, it is a teenager, and with its jalapeno potato flavor, is rebelling from the norm in a most delicious fashion.
Starting with the advertising, it's worth noting that the conspicuously innuendo-laden pins and coupons will do everything to draw me in. The PopChips folks gently pressed "nooner, anyone?" buttons into my hands and weighed down my arms with lanyards that proclaimed, "bite me!" It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. The jalapeno potato flavor really pushes this new image, the edgier side of PopChips- ironically taking the "potato" descriptor as an afterthought while making sure you know what it tastes like. Its grassy green package mirrors its grassy scent. Someone developing this flavor did an excellent job of really coaxing some of the more organic scents from its slice. It reeks of garlic, of body odor, of a beat poetry class at Hampshire College, and it succeeds in its endeavors. We were reminded of flavors that translate less delicately to the untrained tongue. We'll go with cumin.
The chip's texture is a throwback to its hippie upbringings. Regarding the mouthfeel, I can't say that I'd necessarily pick these over a greasy bowl of chips, as the texture is crispy at first but gummy if it sticks in your teeth, but the flavor makes too much of a difference to worry about that. Perhaps the most outstanding aspect of this chip's flavor is its usage of dehydrated vegetables. Without tasting like the pathetic veggie packet in a ramen noodle bowl, the chips carry bold, tangy, fresh flavors that, with very little flavor dust and no artificial coloring, carry a lingering sweet heat to the tongue. These chips punch with a set of homemade brass knuckles. I was impressed with these, and chomped down the bag with a tear in my eye. Whether it was from the poignant moment of seeing a company I love blossom, or the delightful heat in these chips, I do not know.

SPICY WEEK PART 6: Spicy Snacks

The last two categories leave the realm of sauces and enter the DANGER ZONE, and by danger I obviously mean snacks. It's serious business! The snack category got a little leaner as the selection narrowed, and I rounded up the most unique snacks that I could. I suppose I could have gone for the spicy chips as well, your Utz and Herr's, but I'm an out of control teen and I do what I want.
So, my Spanish galleons, we had two popcorns from Oogie's, an incredibly sexy snack as we already know, potato chips from Corozona's, Blair's Death Rain chips, and Deano's Jalapenos. We were also armed with season one of Community and last night's nuggets. Y'know, palate cleansers and all that.
Deano's Jalapenos were the first to go down our gullets, and they set the bar pretty damned high. Frying absorbant vegetables and whatnot can be difficult, as it treads a fine line between underfrying and overfrying. The former makes things greasy and soggy and the latter renders them brittle and hazardous, like Captain Crunch. These are fried to perfection, to the point of melting on the tongue and have a delicate, soft crunch. They're jalapenos, and taste just like they should, with a slight greasiness from the frying and a nice cheddar cheese flavor.
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OVERALL- 8Then we went on to the chips. Blair's Death Rain sounded angry and hot, but turned out to be mild with a creamy cheesy flavor and a heavy chipotle smoke. It was a little overwhelming and I wasn't too partial to it. Swagger finds that there's a special circle in hell for kettle chips, so neglected to comment. They were a little overfried and were overly crispy.
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OVERALL- 3The next chips were Corozona's. These were a little softer than the Blair's chips, despite also being of the kettle variety, but lacked the oil and had a strange, rice flour-like texture and mouthfeel. The crunch tasted like these had been sitting out for a while uncovered, but the spices were fresh and zippy.
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OVERALL- 4Oogie's popcorn was next, in two flavors: hatch chile con queso and chipotle and lime. I absolutely loved the chipotle lime popcorn, because of how beautifully balanced it was. The lime flavor was bright and citrusy, with a fresh note that cut through the cheesiness of the popcorn, and the chipotle was smoky. This was like eating my favorite salsa with my favorite popcorn and worked perfectly. There was very little flavor dust to contend with and the heat was bright and present.
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OVERALL- 9The hatch chile con queso popcorn had the nicest label, with an adequately South of the Border feel, sans crabs. I've compared Oogie's to sex before, and this is basically the Tijuana donkey show of the selection. This is delightfully strange and mimicked, in a slightly creepy way, the exact flavor of queso dip. It was more of a ballpark nacho dip than a homemade queso flavor, but it was addictive and crispy with flavor dust scattered everywhere. A popcorn orgy it was.
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OVERALL- 8

BEST CHIPS AND TOPCORN (Lol.)
Oogie's Chipotle and Lime (9)
Oogie's Hatch Chile con Queso (8)
Deano's Jalapenos (8)

Archer Farms General Tso Potato Chips

Archer Farms might just try a little too hard. I grabbed a bag of this because, for one, Keepitcoming put her foot down on sliders for dinner, and for another, because I had some leftover wasabi and I wanted to create a cross-cultural photo montage for you. But after examining the multitude of flavors, my mind sort of wandered to the thoughts of creating an entire meal from Archer Farms potato chips. Is it possible? Or...even a whole day.

Ideally, I'd start the day by waking up to a nice plate of Archer Farms Smoky Bacon and Cheddar chips. Maybe around midday, have some Greek Inspired chips. When I go out with the guys, I'd munch on Spinach Artichoke and Buffalo Wing chips, and maybe late at night, wolf down some Macaroni and Cheese chips with some Cinnamon and Sugar chips for dessert.
But that's on a good day. Most likely, I'd wake up late and hastily gulp a few handfuls of Stale Cereal chips, followed by a Philly Cheesesteak with Grease and/or Turkey Sliders for lunch, and then lapse into a nighttime potato chip coma with three too many bags of Gin and Tonic chips and Chubby Hubby chips. And then wake up and repeat the whole damned process.

Can a girl just get some damned Ruffles around here?

But I guess we were feeling like Asian food tonight. And since I never resist an opportunity to mock Swagger by eating bastardized Chinese (though his will always be my favorite) or break out my surplus wasabi, I present to you, Archer Farms General Tso Potato Chips. Most of the General Tso's I've had has been flavored with pepper, garlic, ginger, and corn syrup. But overall, not bad, because it has the crispiness of the chicken and breading to bolster it. Would chips be a sufficient enough base?One aspect of Archer Farms' packaging that I think is absolutely genius is the resealable chip bag. Brilliant. Why doesn't everyone do that? Then I wouldn't have to sue Frito Lay (again) for making me wheelchair bound after eating three family sized bags of Doritos in one sitting out of pressure from the persistent threat of stale chips. So that's fantastic. The chips, immediately out of the bag, are pretty large. I'd say on an average, one to four inches in diameter and very few of them were broken. A good ratio. The seasoning wasn't very heavy or powdery on the chips, but stuck well.

The chips smell like ginger. Quite a lot of it, in fact. It's a unique scent that, for the first time, smelled more like General Tso's than say, the General Tso's at P.F. Chang's. It had spiciness on the nose and a tasty garlicky smell, too. But all those scents disappeared once I took a bite. The first noticeable flavor was garlic, followed by bland potato chip. The ginger flavor was pretty spot on, but unfortunately fleeting. The overall result was a muddled set of Asiatic sauces that ended up in sweet, sugary corn syrup. Unfortunately, these chips went the way of most average Americanized Chinese cuisine- to the back of the refrigerator in an unmarked takeout box. The chips were good, though. Maybe some of their other flavors are more accurate.

Stacy's Cinnamon Sugar Pita Chips

Fuck yeah, pita chips. Seriously. I'm a big fan. They're in my top three chip categories, believe it or not. On my almighty scale, which I spent about ten years of research and ten minutes drawing, they're third in the category "pita chips that do not taste like ass."Allow me to clarify the latter category, that being "pita chips that do taste like ass." They're tack biscuit hard, or Zwieback if you're an infant, and have notes of Play-Doh or black sea salt, which incidentally tastes like eggs. These, however, are not.Keepitcoming buys Stacy's Pita Chips as an all purpose snack. To be fair, they probably end up in the condiment designation of our skewed food shelves because we use them more as toppings on soup or as nachos than much else. I'm nuts about the plain ones because of how perfectly thick and crispy they are, so when she brought home the cinnamon sugar chips, I pounced on them and decided that they needed reviewing.These are the perfect chip base for those dessert nachos I'm always talking about making. This is second only to the FoodShouldTasteGood chocolate tortilla chip, and if the two of these chips pulled a Wonder Twins and took the form of one chip, it would be an unstoppable force. The thickness of the chip is really what allured me the most, but now instead of scattered sea salt, the chip is covered in a blend of cinnamon and sugar.It tastes like cinnamon toast, no surprise there. Part of me is pleased with the nostalgic simplicity and another part of me wants to go all Charles Laughton a la Island of Lost Souls and start experimenting with that shit. So I compromised and added ice cream. I thought it would surely be the bane of the crunch I so lust over, but to my surprise, they stayed crispy and crunchy, creating a flavor and texture like fried ice cream without the grease. A solid, portable snack and easy dessert hack.

Gedilla Hanukkah Surprise

Happy Hanukkah, Jews and Jewdettes! Foodettes? Yes! It's the second night and I'm listening to Hadestown and eating a little sea bass. Mazel tov!

In real life, I'm actually Jewish, so all the offensive pigeonholing I do now is completely permissible by today's standards. (I really am. It's on my trading card!) And tonight I'm reviewing a surprise that came with a gift from my father, the Gedilla Hanukkah Surprise dreidel.

I don't know exactly what type of kid receives this as a gift, unless you're counting me. Judaism lacks the overbearing sense of Catholic guilt that comes with Santa Claus and coal and shit, but this would definitely fall along the lines of a coal-related punishment for not filing your tax returns or telling Cousin Moshe to lay off the gefilte fish or something.The kit is aptly shaped like a dreidel, but does not spin. This is a weakness. It is pretty hefty and contains a few snacks for enjoyment, including Gedilla's own Cheeto knock off, a lollipop, hard "Flash" candies, and large Smarties.

We'll start with the least offensive, the Flash candies. These do not flash in your mouth but instead, have another special superpower. They take the form of waxy Mentos, with a slightly minty flavor and little resemblance to the fruit they are supposed to be, about as much relation as Woody Allen and his step-daughter wife have. So it's kosher! Fuck yeah!

Getting worse, we have a lollipop that resembles the kind one would normally receive as a child at a bank. Jesus, really? Stop it, Gedilla, you're just embarrassing yourself. I mean, at least go as far to pick on something the world doesn't already know about. Shove a bagel in there. Or call us lousy lovers. But come on, a bank lollipop? At least we know that it can't get any worse than-WHAT.
WHAT.REALLY?

Sure, the lollipop tasted like the unloved stepchild of Pine-Sol and made my lips feel sticky and dirty inside, but god damn it, candy money just brings home the bac- er, breaks the ban- er, takes the cake. It takes the cake and sells it for a 500% markup. Shucks, that just ain't right. The candy money...eh, it's not so great either. Fun fact, in a recent study by the FDA, this was actually the placebo to Tums, except with no health benefits and less flavor. I didn't like these. They melted too quickly and left an aftertaste of frugality.The last food (food?) in this grouping was the corn sticks. I was really excited for these because I love snacks and I love corn-based things, but when I saw the little, petulant bespectacled corn stick on the package, I fell even more in love. It's a little nod at all the nerdy kids in school! Screw you, dad, I didn't want to be a doctor any way! I just wanted to go into poetry and maize-inspired literature. But these are, like the rest of the Bad News Bears, pretty crappy. These are the Cheetos for the mildly deficient. If you cut yourself on their broken glass like texture, they'd give you these, the equivalent of Will Ferrell's wooden gun.

The flavor is barbecue, and the package warns me that they are "spicy hot." Nothing I love more than a challenge, so into my mouth they went. They'd be better suited as packing peanuts, I'm afraid. But that little character makes the package. And now I shall bequeath the Hanukkah miracle to my roommates. I can stand this no longer. Thanks anyway, dad!

Walker's Australian Kangaroo BBQ & San Marco Rodeo

There are a few combinations of some of the simple things in life that I strongly believe should always go together. Boats and ho’s, burgers and fries, meat and potatoes, pizza and wings, and movies with a good snack. This particular night, I had picked out an especially bad movie about radiation causing teeth go grow in a rather strange part of a young woman’s body; all I needed was some snacks and it was going to be a fantastic time. I found these two interesting bags of chips in a box of random food given to me by Foodette on a previous visit. They from the looks on the packaging, these were going to be as strange as this movie I was about to watch.The first bag of chips sounded as strangely as the movie I was watching. The flavor advertised on the bag clearly read “Australian BBQ Kangaroo”. As an American, I felt that as a nation of fat-asses, we were being outdone by the Brits from across the pond. Walker’s (owned by Frito-Lay, a subsidiary of PepsiCo) was able to put out such crazy flavors of chips in the UK that would be shot down by PETA faster than a sequel to this god-awful movie. I opened this bag expecting the best but all I was met with was disappointment and disgust, much like what my expectations and what I got from this movie. I wanted there to be little bits and essences of a roasted kangaroo in each chip but what I got just tasted exactly like BBQ Pringles chips on a standard Frito-Lays chip. It’s a little sweeter than that standard Lay’s BBQ flavoring, but nothing too special.The second bag of chip was mysterious in its own Italian way. From the package, the only thing I could read and comprehend was “Rodeo” and “King Sized”. I didn’t know what to expect, except for maybe something cowboys would eat and was fit for a king. I opened it up and was met with much mediocrity, much like the acting and direction of the movie. What this bag contained was just corn chips. No different than come Frito’s corn chips, except they were big. There were some really big-ass sized chips. They should be the standard size of corn chip in America and the Italians can have our small sized corn chips. The taste was the same as average corn chips, but the size was good and hearty. I could have put salsa on them if I wanted.(The movie mentioned in this review is “Teeth” See it if you want, but it’s not a very good film despite its premise)