Chip Review

Thank goodness. On a grim, miserable day when all hope was lost, JAW Fan comes to the rescue with news of a tasty, new potato treat:

Last weekend, after getting slightly inebriated, I was suddenly attacked by that sneaky beast who goes by the name of Senor Salt Craving...and so I stopped off at the local dépanneur (convenience store to you non-Québecois). Expecting to see the regular assortment of Lays, Doritos, and Yum-Yums that are so typical of our dépanneurs, you can just imagine my surprise to see an entire array of Old Dutch (not to be confused with the Cleanser) chips in fanciful flavours. There before my eyes were a Creamy Dill and a Mexican Chili...however, I was drawn directly to the bag on the bottom shelf, "Roastin' Chicken".

Like a sly fox, I snatched up that poultry and off home I bounded, excited and anxious to sample what I hoped would be a savoury sensation. Surely these chips cannot possibly taste like roasted chicken, I thought...and I was right, they didn't. If you're expecting to be f * *king clucking after eating these, you won't. But they weren't bad either. On some level, I wish they would have been atrocious, thereby allowing me to use such phrases as "foul fowl" or "these chicken chips laid an egg"...but they weren't atrocious. They were edible and not without their own individual flavour...but the big winner here goes to the thickness of the chip. As most women say, it is the thickness that counts and not the length...well, damn it, they're right. The girth of these spudly snacks packed more potato to the crunch than any other. Face it, Lays chips are so damn thin you can practically see right through them (much like a 1970s Cher wardrobe)...but Old Dutch gave new meaning to the letters OD, as I quickly munched away on these man-sized critters.

To all you delicate dainty dames out there, this is a truck-drivin' chip, not some pansy-ass-Richard-Simmons-in-a-frock-prancing-around-singing-some-queenie-Neil-Sedaka-tune type of chip. We're talking the real deal here...a chip muscle-ripping, ass-kicking, kung fu-licking Jean-Claude Van Damme would be proud to endorse. On the wang-o-meter these cock-flavoured* chips score a simple six inches, but six oh-so-thick inches that will have you returning for more till you're sore.

On a side note, I have discovered that lately all this chip reviewing has been wreaking havoc on my belt notch. Yes, I fear I may be busting out of my pants (and hopefully onto Alec Baldwin's lap) all in the name of junk food journalism. Perhaps a break is in order...or perhaps I should start reviewing something different, such as frozen vegetables or diet sodas...or should I just get fat and keep my public happy? I'll have to give this some thought...until then, Happy Chip Eating.

*Blogmistress's editorial note: This is cock as in chicken, not as in...wang.