Monthly Archives: February 2011

Junk Food

Limited Edition (No More!) Retro Doritos Taco Flavor Tortilla Chips

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Confessions: Junk Food Betty Edition.

When I was around nine years old, I stole a pack of stickers from a Hallmark store. I don’t even remember what the stickers were; probably Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or something. I have never told anyone about this before.

Oh, shit, wait – that was the wrong confession! Oh well; I’m pretty sure the statute of limitations has run out on that crime. What I meant to confess is that I’ve been putting off reviewing these Retro Doritos Taco Flavor because I never had the original Doritos Taco Flavor. The best I can do is treat it like any other product I review, offering my opinion on the flavor and leaving it at that. But after I read the comments on The Impulsive Buy’s news announcement, I became even more intimidated. It seems those who actually ate the original Taco Doritos are rather polarized; some say it tastes just like the original, and some are OUTRAGED at the fact that it does not.

Of course, all taste is subjective. Since I can’t give a comparison, I’d like to ask any JFB readers who have eaten both the original and retro Taco Doritos to leave a comment telling me what you think about the two. Also feel free to tell me I got the flavor profile all wrong. You know, whatever.

With that out of the way, let’s take a small exploration into the history of Taco Doritos. Introduced in 1967, it was the second flavor of Doritos to ever hit the streets. The first was Toasted Corn. That’s a pretty prestigious position to be in. Taco went away at some point, not sure when. In the 1990s, there was a flavor called Taco Bell Taco Supreme, which was later just called Taco, and then there was a Zesty Taco flavor in the Collisions line, but then there was also the Late Night line that had Tacos at Midnight, which apparently did not taste-

You know what, I’m basing all of this information off of Wikipedia, which, of course, you can’t cite as a source in your book report, so just read this and try to sort it all out. Long story short: lots of different taco flavors in Doritos throughout the years.

No matter what they taste like, I’m tempted to empty the bag and frame it. Doritos got me on the packaging; as part of the Nostalgia Generation, whenever I see something like this bag, I think back to my childhood, when my worst problems were making sure I didn’t miss Saved by the Bell and nagging my dad to put air in the tires of my Huffy bike. Simpler times, simpler packaging. I love it.

I find the taste of the chips simpler, too. Again, I never had the original (that I can remember), but these Doritos have a nice, clean flavor profile. I’ve never had a taco that didn’t contain some kind of meat before, but these chips have no meat flavor whatsoever, and for that I am grateful. 1967 – simpler times, when people didn’t have to worry about things that weren’t meat tasting like meat.

What it does taste like, however, is Doritos Nacho Cheese with hints of onion, garlic, and maybe a little tomato. That’s it. No crazy extra stuff, no weird aftertaste I can’t quite explain. Just a nice cheese chip with some pleasant complimentary flavors.

Given, that’s not really what a taco tastes like, and it’s not exactly a mind-blowing flavor, but I don’t care. I still like them, and have been shoving them in my mouth for almost this entire review, so that says something. I wasn’t alive in 1967, but maybe this was a mind-blowing flavor back then. Either way, I think it’s a solid chip. And I would hug the retro bag if it didn’t mean crushing all the chips.

Update: Since it took me so long to write this, Doritos has announced in their Snack Chat that Retro Taco Doritos will stay around for good! Now I can hug my bag, because I can just go get another one!

Update the second: As of me putting the finishing touches on this post, there has been TREACHERY! If you read the Snack Chat link in the first update, you will see that I was correct in saying Taco was the second Doritos flavor ever, and that it debuted in 1967. A few days ago, when I started this post, The Wikipedia link I posted reflected this fact. But look what the Wikipedia article says as of 12:37pm MST, 2/28/11: “The first flavor of Doritos was Toasted Corn followed by Nacho Cheese (known for a time as Nacho Cheesier) flavor was released in 1972 while Cool Ranch (known for a time as Cooler Ranch) flavor was released in 1986.”

THIS IS NOT TRUE! DO NOT BELIEVE WIKIPEDIA! BELIEVE SNACK CHAT! Just more proof that on Wikipedia, “any jackass could have written that”. And this is why Wikipedia isn’t allowed as a citation for book reports! Or my website, apparently!

  • Score: 4 out of 5 sombreros
  • Price: $3.29
  • Size: 12 oz. bag
  • Purchased at: Fry’s Foods
  • Nutritional Quirks: Despite being taco flavored, Doritos Taco does not taste like meat.  GOOD.
Junk Food

Fun Sweets Cotton Candy Teddy Bear Vanilla

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Happy Valentine’s Day! What better way to say “I love you” than a tub of cotton candy? When I first saw this in the Valentine’s section in the grocery store, I thought to myself, “What an odd choice for a Valentine’s candy.” When I think Valentine’s Day, I of course think chocolate. When I think cotton candy, I think of the fair. When I picked it up and turned it around, I decided I needed to have it. You’ll see why in just a second.

I thought that this was just a one-shot deal on the part of Fun Sweets, a company I’d never heard of before. When I went and looked up their website, I was disappointed to see that cotton candy is the only thing Fun Sweets makes. It just re-purposes its product into different holiday-themed tubs.

But that’s okay, because check this baby out:

Earlier I stated that a tub of cotton candy was the best way to say “I love you.” I’ve changed my mind. Nothing says “I love you” like a terrifying bear face with a heart nose that looks like it wants to eat you, but in the happiest of ways. Maybe I’m jaded; maybe other people just see a cute bear face. I see a veneer of cute with sinister undertones.

There’s more than just Cute Creepy Bear to this cotton candy, however. There’s a Smile Guarantee!

Scientifically proven! Guarantee! Oh, but there’s a disclaimer: if I’m a major grouch who doesn’t smile at a puppy or a rainbow, then even Fun Sweets Cotton Candy can’t help me. There have been times I haven’t smiled at puppies, like when they’re running across a busy street and I’m like, “Hey puppy! Stop being stupid! Get out of the street!” I don’t want to see a puppy get run over. That wouldn’t make me smile at all.

I suppose there are also times I haven’t smiled at rainbows, like when it’s just stopped raining and I’m coming home with a handful of groceries, and nobody thought to put a gutter on the roof above the staircase leading to my apartment, so I have to walk under a waterfall of roof runoff that’s probably full of pigeon poop. There are times I can be a major grouch in the morning, too, especially if there’s no coffee. I guess my guarantee is void. Sad face.

I’ve never had packaged cotton candy before. I’ve had cotton candy at fairs; I’ve even made it once, at the Orange County Fair or Oktoberfest or something. I was volunteering for Girl Scouts or maybe forced into high school community service. Who cares; all I know is I started with a sour puss because I didn’t want to be there but wound up having a lot of fun. Maybe there’s hope for my Smile Guarantee yet.

I just realized from reading Fun Sweets’ website that this is actually called Fun Sweets Cotton Candy Teddy Bears and that the flavor is vanilla. If I’d bothered to read the side of the tub, I would have learned that white = vanilla, pink = cherry, and yellow = banana. Well, huh. I’d been going with straight-up Fun Sweets Cotton Candy this whole time. I had no idea there were other flavors. The title of this post just got three words longer.

This is the clump that came out when I pulled a piece out of the tub. It’s a little denser than the cotton candy you’d get from a vendor at a fair, but that’s to be expected. Hand-spun is obviously going to be different from cotton candy that was probably mechanically stuffed into a tub.

Even though it’s denser, it still has the fun tear-apart characteristics of cotton candy, as you can see. It also immediately gets stuck all over your fingers, like fresh cotton candy. I hate sticky fingers, but cotton candy is so fun, I’m willing to give Fun Sweets a pass. The jury is still out, however, on Sticky Fingaz. I’ve got my eye on you, sir. Just because you were on The Shield doesn’t mean you get a free ride.

As for taste and texture in the mouth, Fun Sweets Cotton Candy Teddy Bear Vanilla is as close to fresh cotton candy as you can get. It starts out as fun fluff, then immediately dissolves into a tiny clump of sugar crystals. I can taste a hint of vanilla, but really, it’s just all sugar, all the time.

Frankly, I expected pre-packaged Fun Sweets’ Cotton Candy to suck. I wasn’t sure how it would suck, I just thought it would. As it turns out, it’s the next best thing to fresh, hand-spun cotton candy as you can get. Tearing those pieces off and shoving them into my mouth, I felt like a kid again. And, obviously, this product is made for kids. When it’s February and there’s snow covering the ground, receiving Teddy Bear Cotton Candy for Valentine’s Day would make any kid with good sense squee. There’s even little hearts on the tub to write your “To” and “From” on.  And for just one dollar apiece, if you want your kid to be a god, even if just for a day, have them hand these out instead of stupid Dragonball Z Valentine’s cards.  Bulky, but totally worth it.

I guess I won’t have to worry about my Smile Guarantee, because Fun Sweets Cotton Candy Teddy Bear Vanilla did, indeed, make me smile. I would have preferred a less vaguely unsettling form of teddy bear, but any kid eating this would be too busy shoving sugar in her mouth to notice.

  • Score: 4.5 out of 5 Cute Creepy Bear hugs
  • Price: $1.00
  • Size: 1.5 oz. tub
  • Purchased at: Fry’s Foods
  • Nutritional Quirks: The ingredients are simple: sugars, artificial flavors and artificial color (red #40, yellow#5). But the product is as white as newly fallen snow. What’s with the colors?
Fast Food

Taco Bell Quad* Steak Burrito

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Any Taco Bell employee will tell you that the most difficult part of getting hired on at Taco Bell is learning their bizarre, arbitrary system of weights and measures. A lot of people have a tough time learning that the amount of meat in a Steak Burrito Supreme is a “steak”, and that four steaks make a quad*, as seen here. And that doesn’t even come close to figuring out how much ground beef goes into a “fraud”, or how many jalapenos constitute a “volcano”. It’s like visiting a foreign country, except everyone speaks English and you can drink the water. So I guess what I’m trying to say is that working at Taco Bell is like going to Canada.

Does Canada even have burritos?

If you’re a faithful Junk Food Betty reader or aware of news in any way, you’re aware of some recent meat-based controversy surrounding Taco Bell. This was immediately followed by Taco Bell releasing their new, improved steak products, which are advertised as “thicker, tender steak” The timing of this makes me suspicious that this change in product might’ve been a bit rushed. “LOOK OVER THERE, AMERICA! NEW, IMPROVED STEAK! JUST STOP LOOKING HERE, AT THIS GROUND BEEF”. As the flagship item to showcase the new steak, they’ve launched the Quad* Steak Burrito and Quad* Steak Quesadilla. The Burrito is composed of the new steak, rice, salsa, sour cream (reduced fat for you fat fucks!), and cheddar cheese wrapped in a flour tortilla. It’s not an inspiring configuration of ingredients, to be sure, and can even be accused of being boring. However, it does have a lot of steaks going for it.

You may have noticed that this review, and Taco Bell’s website, have gotten pretty excited about the use of asterisks. This is to inform you, the consumer, that the Quad* Steak products contain four times the amount of steak as that found in a Steak Burrito Supreme. Except that advertising containing asterisks always makes people think that there’s some shady fine print bullshit going on. “What’s with the asterisks?” I can hear you thinking. “How many oats and soys are contained in this ‘meat’?” But you can rest easy, my suspicious friend. Taco Bell’s steak contains no oats, and less than a “kikkoman” worth of soy. There is no legerdemain. Taco Bell just really, really wants you to know precisely how many steaks you’re violently cramming into your sauce-stained, gnashing mouth-hole. The answer, by the way, is a quad*.

Upon purchase of the Quad* Steak Burrito, I immediately seized it from the bag and gave it a precise, bouncing heft to determine its girth. Clocking in at a quad* of steaks, I expected the item, about the same size as a Grilled Stuft Burrito, to have the density of a dying star. While not neutronium-heavy, it has a decent mass, similar to a “sob” of onions or a “blush” of beans. Upon tasting, the steak is obviously the star of the show, as the burrito is stuffed to the gills with the stuff. And it’s changed, as advertised, into thicker, tender pieces (not they don’t use the phrase “more tender”, as that would imply it was tender before and I think that’s illegal to say). The steak is pretty tender, while still being toothsome, and the pieces do appear bigger. Personally, I felt the flavor suffered quite a bit, likely due to being taken from a different cut of meat. It has a less assertive beef flavor that, while it works alright in this product, may not be able to stand up to some of the stronger ingredients in other preparations. This is disappointing, given my long-standing relationship with the Steak Baja Gordita. I’m sorry, baby. It’s not you, it’s me. Wait, actually, no. It’s you. It’s aaallll you.

A thousand times you. I'm actually pretty great.

The quesadilla was also sampled by the Junk Food Betty Division of Product Analysis and Unreasonable Judgement. Long story short, it’s the burrito with less rice and more cheese., and I’m sure you’re blown the Hell away by that. Both are $5 for a quad* of steak, or $4 for a double* of steaks. Given the prices, for $5 I’ll ravage their dollar menu or, better yet, head out of Blandsville and over to Chiptole or a local Mexican joint.

  • Score: 2.5 out of 5 disappointing vacations to Blandsville
  • Price: $4.99 for Quad* Steak, $3.99 for a double* steak
  • Size: 1 quad*
  • Purchased at: Taco Bell #004989
  • Nutritional Quirks: 26 “bypasses” of fat
Beverages

ChocoVine

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Hey dudes, looking for something special to get your ladyfriend for Valentine’s Day? Maybe a box of chocolates, a nice bottle of red wine? Wouldn’t it be awesome if you could kill two birds with one stone? Then ChocoVine is the gift for you! Especially if you want your girlfriend to break up with you after she’s done vomiting. (Protip: hold her hair back like a gentleman.)

Maybe that’s not fair. Maybe ChocoVine will actually get you laid. We’ll just have to wait and see.

When something makes me do a literal double-take at the grocery store, I know that I must own it and probably write about it. Usually this fills me with dread and excitement, two emotions that really shouldn’t go together. Such was the case with ChocoVine. It was seated at the end of the wine aisle in a small display setup. When you see something that looks like Yoo-Hoo in a wine bottle, it’s impossible not to investigate further. And that I did.

The front of the bottle reads “The taste of dutch chocolate and fine red wine”. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

The back of the bottle has some interesting tidbits, also. First of all, it is encouraged that you shake it well, which is something I never thought I’d read on a wine bottle. Actually, I was surprised at how little chocolate sediment settled at the bottom of the bottle. The chocolate looks pretty evenly distributed. I don’t know if that’s a good sign or a bad sign.

It also advises, “Do not mix with acidic drinks!” Uh, isn’t red wine already acidic? I don’t understand!

When you go to ChocoVine’s website, the first thing you see is a black page with the words “You have to be 21 year [sic] old!” We’re off to a fine start.

There’s so much to quote from their website, so I’ll just let you read it for yourself. Here’s some choice quotes, in case you’re lazy:

“[Chocolate and wine] are also both incredibly complex and pairing them has always been a daunting process, often leading to dreadful results.”

I bet.

“The right chocolate paired with the perfect wine can create a near-orgasmic taste experience.”

I’ve had what I guess you could call near-orgasmic taste experiences before, but for $11.99 , I’m betting they didn’t exactly use the “perfect wine” and my vagina will not tingle with culinary pleasure.

“But the wrong wine opposite a too-sweet chocolate creates nothing but horror. Many have taken the challenge…and have failed.”

It’s like they’re setting me up. I don’t even need a punchline.

I have to be honest though, minus the typo on their website, there’s some other stuff on there that’s reaaaally trying to make me believe ChocoVine actually tastes good. It apparently won a gold medal from the Beverage Tasting Institute. I could take two seconds to see if this is actually a legit thing, but eh. There’s also a clip from some show on the Lifetime channel that almost made me die of boredom. The host acted like she was being paid to pretend to enjoy it, but she didn’t vomit and she kept a straight and cheery face as she drank it, so it can’t be that awful. Right? I mean, you can only suppress your gag reflex so much…right?

Okay ChocoVine, your website has done its job. I no longer expect to puke after my first sip of chocolate wine. Maybe my second, but probably not my first.

I feel I should insert a caveat here: I’m neither a chocolate snob nor a wine snob, so I’m not going to be talking about bouquets and woodsy vs. fruity and all that shit. I’m just a regular uneducated asshole and I will try to describe it to the best of my ability as a normal shlub.

First off, the smell. Scent? What do wine snobs call that? Whatever. Anyway, it smelled a lot like how it looks: Yoo-Hoo, except with an underlying tone of alcohol. It was a little disconcerting, because the smell of chocolate dominated about 80%, but then there was this alcohol finish that I would have expected to make me feel repulsed, like it had gone bad, but somehow the alcohol smell worked with the chocolate. It’s thicker than Yoo-Hoo or wine; it’s about the consistency of milk. It felt kind of weird, drinking such a thick liquid out of a wine glass.

I kind of hate to say it, but ChocoVine tastes…well, it tastes pretty good, actually. As with the smell, the chocolate dominated the flavor. I hate to keep using this analogy, but it really tasted similar to Yoo-Hoo, while having the consistency of chocolate milk. ChocoVine claims that it has the taste of dutch chocolate, but it tasted more like a chocolate analogue. Which is not unpleasant, but it lacked the depth of flavor of true chocolate. That said, it is rather rich, which is a good thing and a bad thing. I have a low tolerance for sweets, so I don’t think I could down more than what was in the glass pictured above before reaching my sweetness tolerance level.

As for the wine…again, I’m no wine connoisseur, but if I didn’t know it was red wine in there, I would have guessed it was a chocolate drink mixed with a little vodka. The booze flavor hit on the back end, but there was nothing wine-like about it. It just tasted like alcohol. Again, I would have expected that to be repulsive, but I enjoyed it. In reality, the mixing of chocolate and booze is not unusual at all. Since the explosion of flavor-infused vodkas (which I think has grown out of control), brands like Three Olives even make chocolate-infused vodkas. I’ve never had Three Olives Chocolate Vodka, but I’d imagine it tastes a lot like ChocoVine, except less viscous.

Okay, you got me, ChocoVine. You taste pretty damn good. I wouldn’t choose ChocoVine as an accompaniment to a meal, but it would make a nice dessert cocktail. I tend to prefer my liquors straight, but if you’re into chocolate and getting drunk, ChocoVine would be a fine choice. I would recommend serving it to your ladyfriend after a nice cozy dinner on Valentine’s Day. Ladies love chocolate, so serve her enough of it and you may just get lucky. I can almost guarantee she won’t puke – at least, not until the next morning.

  • Score: 3.5 out of 5 hair-holding gentlemen
  • Price: $11.99 (on sale; regularly $12.99)
  • Size: 750 ml
  • Purchased at: Albertson’s #980
  • Nutritional Quirks: “Ingredients: grape wine with artificial flavor, cream and artificial colors.”  Grape wine, that’s all you have to say? Also, the lack of chocolate in the ingredients is telling.  By the way, ChocoVine is 14% ABV.
Junk Food

Ruffles Loaded Chili & Cheese and Molten Hot Wings Potato Chips

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Ruffles are not one of Frito-Lay’s products that gets a lot of new family members. Doritos seem to fuck like rabbits, producing a new flavor every two seconds, and Cheetos get a lot of play, but Ruffles are just…Ruffles. Ridged and thicker than Lay’s, original Ruffles are the perfect chip for dipping. There’s a few flavors, like Authentic Barbecue and Sour Cream & Onion, but they’re pretty pedestrian. I do have to say, I love their Cheddar & Sour Cream. But generally, Ruffles have been one of the quietest of all the Frito-Lay children.

Until now! Ruffles has come out with not one, but two new Ruffles flavors, and I’m excited about both of them. Molten Hot Wings and Loaded Chili & Cheese? Hells yeah, sign me up for flavor country! I would have just been happy with Hot Wings, but these are Molten Hot Wings. Chili & Cheese gets my blood pumping (Fritos Chili Cheese chips rock), but these are Loaded Chili & Cheese. How are they loaded? Onions on top? Sour cream? Or just really drunk? It is a mystery, and I hope it’s a delicious one.

You might be thinking that Frito-Lay just up and decided to give Ruffles some love. But there’s an ulterior motive going on here. A sinister ulterior motive.

Okay it’s not that sinister. It’s just silly.

If you read Frito-Lay’s Snack Chat blog, and I know you don’t, you would know that there’s a theme going on here. Ruffles Molten Hot Wing and Loaded Chili & Cheese are being released with a buddy, Doritos Pizza Supreme. Are you seeing a theme here? Have you noticed that, on some recent Sundays, there’s suddenly the smell of grilling and the sound of yelling in the air? Did you perhaps wonder when church got so damn exciting? If so, you’re probably a nerd who doesn’t watch sports. This means you probably didn’t know the Super Bowl is happening this Sunday. A friend of mine called the Super Bowl a “football contest” today. I’m pretty sure he didn’t get the theme.

In other words, yes: Frito-Lay is trying to convince you that, instead of making (or ordering) real hot wings, chili cheese dip, and pizza for your big Super Bowl party, you should just lay out three big bowls full of these chips. Don’t take it from me, they pretty much lay it out like that in the blog: “The crunch of Ruffles Original with the bold, hearty flavors of chili cheese and hot wings. Who needs a meal when you’ve got these to snack on?”

I NEED A MEAL. If I were to go to someone’s Super Bowl party and see nothing but Ruffles laid out on the coffee table, I would overturn the table in a fit of rage, break a bottle of beer over it, and stab the party host in the face. Motherfucker trying to just feed me chips. I bet the beer is non-alcoholic, too. Bitch be trippin’.

Leaving behind any talk of food/chip substitutions and physical assault, let’s just see how they taste.

Loaded Chili and Cheese

After looking at the back of the bag, I now see what they mean by loaded: “You know that dream where all your favorite food is piled high and ready to go? It’s not a dream. It’s Ruffles Loaded Chili & Cheese Flavor. Chili? Check. Cheese? Heck yeah. Onions and peppers. Bingo. Now put all that on a chip. Pinch yourself, you’re really awake. Okay, now hit yourself. Oh well, it was worth a shot.”

I want to find the person that wrote this little gem. I’ve seen some pretty out there back-of-bag descriptions, but this one is just plain funny. First of all, I don’t think I’ve ever had that dream. And if I did have that dream, it would look more like a steak smothered in onion dip, artichoke dip, pesto and cheese sauce, bangers and mash, all topped off with a pickle. Somehow that doesn’t sound too appetizing.

By the way, I punched myself in the face after I finished reading the bag. I always obey the bag.

Unsurprisingly, Loaded Chili & Cheese Ruffles taste a hell of a lot like Chili Cheese Fritos. Heck, they probably just used the same flavor powder with some minor modifications. But you know what? I don’t care. I love Chili Cheese Fritos and I love Chili Cheese Ruffles. They don’t taste exactly the same, since Ruffles are potato chips and Fritos are corn chips, but it works either way.

If you’ve never had Chili Cheese Fritos before, let me explain the Ruffles for you. They basically taste like chili powder mixed with cheese powder. There’s also a little onion and garlic flavors thrown in there, too. The Ruffles do have some different ingredients than the Fritos, which results in a larger depth of flavor, particularly in the onion region. I couldn’t really taste any peppers, but that’s okay. I don’t really consider peppers to be a standard in chili cheese dip, but maybe that’s just me.

Loaded Chili & Cheese Ruffles get a thumbs up in my book. The chili flavor is pretty aggressive, which may not appeal to some pussies people, but I found it to be just right.

Molten Hot Wings

Let’s check out what kind of crazy is on the back of this bag! “You. Your buds. The game… What’s missing? One word, “Wings.” Dripping with sauce and ready to wash down with your favorite beverage(s). Wait, it gets better. It’s Ruffles Molten Hot Wings Flavor and it’s all on a chip. So now what’s missing? Two words, ‘personal cheerleaders.’ Dream big, chief.”

First of all, you’re not doing a very good job of selling these chips as a replacement for hot wings. “What’s missing? Meaty chicken wings covered in delicious sauce. You know what’s better? Eating potato chips.” Not exactly the same experience.  Most guys would choose meat over potato chips.

Speaking of guys, what kind of sexist fuck wrote this blurb? Personal cheerleaders? “Chief”? Don’t call me chief. I am a motherfucking lady, you punk-ass little bitch. How dare you assume that only guys are going to eat Molten Hot Wings? My outrage is palpable.

I wouldn’t mind some hot personal cheerleaders, however. The more vapid, the better! Honey I ain’t paying you to talk, I’m paying you to cheer me on every time I finish another beer. Or someone makes a touchdown or something. Whatever.

Given the picture on the bag and the whole “molten” angle, I expected these chips to be fire engine red. Not so much. Don’t be deceived, however; these chips pack a surprising punch. They’re pretty fierce, but in a buffalo sauce sort of way more than say, a jalapeño spicy sort of way. My mouth puckered. That signature vinegar component of buffalo sauce is definitely there.

There was an underlying flavor that I had trouble identifying, until it finally hit me: chicken. Son of a- I’M TIRED OF BEING AMBUSHED BY MEAT-FLAVORED CHIPS! DAMN YOU AND YOUR FLAVOR SORCERY, FRITO-LAY!

Honestly though, once I got done shaking my fist in the air and yelling at a snack food manufacturer while standing alone in the middle of my kitchen, I gave them a second try and really didn’t find the chicken undertone all that bad. I would say it’s the least disturbing of all the meat-flavored chips I’ve tried. Molten Hot Wings Ruffles would hit it off pretty well with some ranch dip. While not exactly molten, they do pack some heat, and I’ll forgive Ruffles just for using the word “molten”. I’m a big fan of creative adjectives in snack foods. And it sure as hell beats “XTREME”.

I’m glad to see Ruffles getting more flavors. Fortunately, I actually enjoyed both Loaded Chili & Cheese and Molten Hot Wings, even though the former seems to just be a slightly different iteration of Chili Cheese Fritos and the latter has an undertone of…chicken. I’d still cut a bitch if I went to a Super Bowl party and all they had was Ruffles, but the cuts would require less stitches. I’d even leave some chips for them after they got back from the hospital.

(Note: Brand Eating also reviewed Ruffles Loaded Chili & Cheese Potato Chips and The Impulsive Buy reviewed both of them.)

Ruffle Loaded Chili & Cheese Potato Chips

  • Score: 4 out of 5 sexy food dreams
  • Price: $0.99
  • Size: 1 7/8 oz. bag
  • Purchased at: Fry’s Foods
  • Nutritional Quirks: Contains red and green bell pepper powder, even though I couldn’t taste it. I’ve never seen bell pepper powder before. More Frito-Lay sorcery!

Ruffles Molten Hot Wings Potato Chips

  • Score: 3.5 out of 5 personal cheerleaders
  • Price: $0.99
  • Size: 1 7/8 oz. bag
  • Purchased at: Fry’s Foods
  • Nutritional Quirks: Contains chicken fat, chicken broth and chicken powder. Chicken powder sounds ominous, but is probably just bullion. I’m a little disturbed that my potato chips have chicken fat in them, though.