Review: $36 Beef Tallow Potato Chips!!!
Also: Why you should be like José Andrés and try tinned seafood with chips, and the case against caviar with chips
Hey Friends!
I’m kicking off this late summer column with a breezy essay about potato chips. If that’s not your thing, just scroll past the paywall for a review of $36 beef tallow chips, notes on caviar, and a recipe for pairing good conservas with chips.
This is a long column! Remember, no need to read in full. Just scroll.
Ryan!!!
When Good Chips Are Bad Chips
On a steamy Friday in July, when the heat index was well over 100F, my Artist Friend and I did the exact same thing that scores of other New Yorkers did.
We hopped on a ferry to the Rockaways.
And we brought snacks. Because half the fun of hitting the beach is nibbling on crispy, salty things plucked from noisy little bags.
How this all came together, however, is where things get complicated.
A few hours earlier, my friend texted that she wanted chips. This seemed like a fortuitous development. While I was picking up some trout roe for the after party — Sutton doesn’t mess around — my local caviar monger did me a solid one and threw in a free mother of pearl spoon….and a bag of chips.
Let’s call it a win.
That win was short lived. These were Route 11 kettle chips.
My friend, in a subsequent text, asked for “bad chips.”
Now let me explain a few things. Just so no one gets the wrong idea before this twisted tuber story reaches its crispy apex.
I love junk food.
There is no better IMAX beverage than a sugary, slushy Icee; it doesn’t get watery like a cola. And there is no better road trip soft serve than McDonald’s; the vanilla flavored caulk doesn’t drip.
I consider Auntie Anne’s an endangered species — even though the central offering is closer to buttered bread than an actual pretzel. And Taco Bell’s crunchy shell is one of the world’s great conveyance mechanisms for spiced, 88 percent beef.
But when it comes to potato chips, I go kettle fried. It’s been that way for decades. Since my youth. Since my earliest potato chip memories in the late-1980s.
My love affair with kettle chips isn’t about clean eating or the gourmandization of everything. In 1986, the New York Times called the Cape Cod variety a “luxury” junk food, along the lines of Dove Bars or Ben & Jerry’s, and I suppose that’s a fair analysis. But for me, kettle chips are the most basic, most normal form of chip.
Here’s why:
They actually taste like potatoes, as much as oysters taste of the ocean and as hot dogs taste of hot dog.
The audible crunch makes me supremely happy. One of my favorite ASMRs.
Kettle chips don’t collapse the second you bite into them. You have to work for their love.
As for the “bad chips,” my thoughts are as follows. Wise and Lay’s are decent enough. Ruffles are unacceptable. I briefly dated someone who worked at the Utz factory, so I’m going to recuse myself from that situation. Potato Stix are the shoestring fries of the chips world, which means they’re not welcome at this house of worship. Pringles are good but the dehydrated product does not qualify as potato chip — not anymore than Astronaut Ice Cream would qualify as gelato — so they do not count. (Also, those cans are human bear traps!!!)
Of course, these are all matters upon which intelligent people will disagree.
Eater’s Jenny Zhang had a smart and trolly take on kettle chips back in 2020; it was an essay that some segments of the internet absolutely lost their sh!t over.
Indeed, my own preferences are not necessarily mainstream, at least not in the Empire State. A July Instacart analysis showed that Ruffles rule Tennessee, West Virginia, and much of the American Southwest, while California and the Pacific Northwest is Kettle brand territory. Louisiana prefers super crunchy and spicy Zapp’s — and honestly that fine product deserves UNESCO heritage status like Cambodia’s Preah Vihear temple to Shiva — while Pennsylvania and Jersey like Herr’s.
New York is Lay’s territory.
So here, today, I’ll admit that my friend’s request for quotidian chips was a fair one. This is where the story gets dark. But stay with me, because there will be light.
Scroll past the paywall for…
Review: Vandy’s $35 beef tallow, RFK-style chips without seed oils
Notes on caviar with potato chips
A brief ranking of potato chip flavors
Why you should be eating tinned seafood with chips
The conclusion of “bad potato chips….”
As scholars will one day note, I have a certain disreputable history of bringing fancy-ass snacks to otherwise casual outings. And I’m not even talking about Terra root vegetable chips in those shiny black bags….