How deep do your ridges have to go until you’re satisfied? I mean, you already made ULTIMATE ridges that are HARDERCORE, whatever that means. Now you’re making them 2x as deep? Where will it end? Ridges so extreme that they look like the EKG of someone having a panic attack? Just one giant chip per bag with sharp edges that make your gums bleed? How far is too far, Ruffles?
These Ruffles Deep Ridged chips aren’t just Classic Hot Wings Flavored; they’re Inspired by Buffalo Wild Wings Classic Hot Wings Flavored!
Does this excite you? It does not excite me, because I’ve never been to a Buffalo Wild Wings so I have no idea what their wings taste like. I’m not really a sports bar kinda gal, what with having no interest in sports, watching sports, or gathering with other people who like sports.
I also just found out by looking at their website that they call themselves B-Dubs, which makes me want to punch them in the face. “Hey brosefs let’s go down to B-Dubs grab some Jag bombs and get supes trashed brah.” This is only reinforcing my dislike of sports bars.
This is not Ruffles’ fault, however, so I won’t hold it against them. What I will hold against them is what’s written on the back of the bag:
Chicken…and wing sauce…and chicken…and wing sauce…and what the hell is someone having a stroke? Also, I feel that implying that these flavors are what taste great on deep ridges means you’re not supposed to dip them, which was what the Ultimate hardercore Ruffles were specifically designed to do. We have 2X deeper ridges for no reason at all, now. “Deeper ridges, just because we can.”
After all this bizarre marketing, I wasn’t sure what to expect out of the chips themselves. I thought they might be overly thick, but they were about the same thickness as regular Ruffles; in fact, having the depth of the ridges makes them further apart, giving them a more delicate texture, but with lots of crunch.
The heat of hot wing flavoring was immediately evident and also had just the right level of burn. The vinegar taste was also there, but it knew its place as a backup player. Given the obsessive mantra on the back of the bag, I expected some chicken flavoring, but if it was supposed to be there, it got swallowed up by the hot wing heat and flavoring. I was perfectly okay with that.
I’ve had a lot of buffalo-flavored chips, but Ruffles Deep Ridged Classic Hot Wings have managed to climb pretty far up on the list. I refuse to believe the deeper ridges had anything to do with the flavor, and I don’t think they’d hold up well with dip, but they did give the chips a different texture than regular Ruffles.
The heat and the vinegar were at just the right levels, creating a hot wing chip that, while not exactly original, managed to stand out just a little bit above some others. I have no idea if they taste anything like the sauce that Buffalo Wild Wings uses, but they’re a perfectly fine choice to pick up on the go, so long as you’ve got napkins with you so you can wipe off the bright reddish-orange flavor dust.
Ruffles Deep Ridged Classic Hot Wings Potato Chips Inspired By Buffalo Wild Wings
Score: 4 out of 5 violent stabs to the face for whoever came up with the term “B-Dubs”
Size: 2 1/2 oz. bag
Purchased at: Walmart #2482
Nutritional Quirks: Actually contains chicken fat, but my mouth didn’t know it.
Snack food companies love to throw around words like “extreme” (or Xtreme, or XXXTREEEME), “intense”, “maximum”, and all manner of other adjectives that they want you to think makes their product seem like the craziest, most flavorful, most BLOWIN’ YOUR MIND food you’ve ever eaten.
And I fall for it every time.
Well, not exactly. I don’t expect said product to explode my head, blowing my brains all over my kitchen, or even just make me say, “Wow, that was intense.” But every time I see one of these adjectives on the shelves, I have to at least give it a glance. It is just my nature.
This time, it took a brief post on Facebook to catch my attention. Namely, a post from Ruffles proudly letting me know that their Ultimate Beef N’ Cheese Dip contained real beef brisket.
Such a matter-of-fact post, and yet, to my trained eye, I was instantly revolted and intrigued at the same time.
Soon afterward, I saw a commercial for Ruffles Ultimate that was 30 seconds of so much stupid that I had to take an inordinate amount of time pausing and rewinding it to break it down for all of you:
We open with three shlubs playing poker; balding shlub #4 walks in with his innocent-looking girlfriend (played by actress Emily Chang, whose IMDB credits include “Sexy Nurse” and “Flight Attendant”) and asks if they have room for her. She smiles, all “what are these cards and chips (get it? Poker chips in a chip commercial!) and Texas Hold ‘Em oh my goodness” and the shlubs are immediately roped in by her good looks and seeming gullibility.
She sits down; there’s a bag of Ruffles Ultimate Kickin’ Jalapeño Ranch chips and a jar of Smokehouse Bacon Dip already in front of her chair, which begs the question: who was eating the chips and dip before she arrived? Did Dave just go to take a piss and was instantly usurped by the arrival of a female? Was it some sort of shrine to a dead friend and former poker buddy, who refused to play unless chips and dip were provided for him and him only? I guess we’ll never know.
She sits down and immediately says, “Mmmm, new Ruffles Ultimate,” which is a thing nobody in real life would ever actually say, and sticks a chip into the jar of dip, shoving it into her mouth with lightning speed, like she hasn’t eaten in days.
“Never seen ridges this deep,” she says, pile-driving another dip-loaded chip into her mouth. But wait! What has happened? Innocent girlfriend is suddenly wearing oversized sunglasses and a Bedazzled pair of headphones!
“ Is [sic] there chunks of bacon in this dip? Awesome!” The “awesome” is said in a reverent whisper I would reserve for, say, watching a live feed of the Curiosity rover landing on Mars while in a public library. As she says this, she makes an almost O-face and her sad-sack boyfriend sitting next to her leers. Once dressed modestly, she is now wearing a spaghetti-strapped tank top. One of the shlubs announces that he is “all in”, which I’m sure he wishes he was, in a different context.
“Bro, [unintelligible] me a cold one,” she says, now wearing a blinged-out necklace and a tight leather jacket over her tank top.
“I love you so much right now,” her boyfriend says, immediately getting up to do her bidding. It’s obvious he likes this dressed-for-the-club chick over the nice, sweet girl he walked in with, pre-Ruffles. This is sad but telling. My feminist hackles rise like the ridges of Ruffles Ultimate chips.
“Whatchoo got,” one of the guys off-camera says, in a desperate attempt to sound cool in front of the newly-sexified girlfriend while the boyfriend is in the kitchen, oblivious to one of his friends making what I assume is a double entendre.
“Ba-ZIIIIING,” she says, which is also something nobody has ever actually said, and throws her cards down. “Love boys night out,” she says, and takes, like, three chips from the pot. I take this to mean she has no idea how to play poker, and was just randomly throwing cards down and taking chips. Poker chips, not Ruffles chips.
This scene ends abruptly, leaving me to believe that the guys continue to let her win by just throwing down random cards and taking arbitrary amounts of chips from the pot, all in the hopes of having a quad-way with her as she shovels more and more Ruffles into her mouth.
“The new Ruffles Ultimate: snack like you mean it,” a voiceover says, trying his hardest to sound like the manliest man in the land. What does that phrase even mean? Have I ever snacked like I didn’t mean it? I’ve never taken anything with “sleep-eating” as a side effect, so I guess I wouldn’t know.
That sure was a hell of a lot of words to describe a commercial. Heck, you can just watch the damn thing here.
Now that I’m thoroughly disgusted with Ruffles’ advertising agency and myself, let’s get to the actual food. The word “disgusted” may or may not come up again.
Ruffles Ultimate Kickin’ Jalapeño Chips
What makes these chips “ultimate” is explained right on the front of the bag: “HARDERcore ridges for hardcore dips”.
While I’d love to go on a rant about the use of the non-word “hardercore”, there’s an even deeper issue here. Deeper than one stupid commercial. Deeper than hardercore ridges. It’s called manvertising, and Frito-Lay’s Snack Chat post makes it clear that that is what they’re going for:
“The chips rock ridges twice the size and depth of the ridges in original Ruffles Potato Chips and come in a variety of real food flavors sure to satisfy any guy gathering. The thick, deep ridges in the chips allow for guys to load up on hearty flavor with new hardcore dips…”
I’m trying desperately to stay on-topic, but I have to at least mention the ridiculousness of the phrase “real food flavors”. Have you ever seen a chip that was not “real food” flavored?
“Oh man, you gotta try these new PVC Pipe Pringles. Tastes just like plastic!”
“Check out these limited edition cotton-flavored Doritos!” (Never got past test marketing; potheads and those suffering from hangovers complained of cotton mouth.)
Okay, okay, I got it out of my system. Anyways, I don’t go around burning my bras, but stuff like this is so blatantly sexist that my feminist hackles can’t help but go up. I really don’t mind if products that are obviously intended for guys, like, say, Old Spice deodorant, are directly marketed to the male gender, but things like low-calorie soda or chips with bigger ridges can be enjoyed by both genders.
More on this later. Oh, that’s right. We’re not done yet.
Here’s some words about these stupid chips. As you can see, they do have deeper ridges, but they aren’t much thicker than regular Ruffles. Will deeper ridges alone allow for less chip breakage when dipping? We shall find out in a moment.
As for the flavor, I’m completely dismissing the “Kickin’” part because that’s just regular ol’ unnecessary adjective addition, which has become pedestrian in this day and age of snack food marketing. It’s like when you type the same word over and over again; after a while, it loses all meaning and your eyeballs just pass right over it. I don’t even care that Ruffle is doin’ the whole gerund-abbreviation thin’. It don’t mean nothin’.
The jalapeño flavor does have some actual heat to it, which is always appreciated in a product that claims to have some spice goin’ on. The ranch flavor was surprisingly strong, especially on the finishing end; it lingers more than the jalapeño flavor, but has an authentic ranch flavor that I enjoyed.
Oh, by the way, the back of the bag also says, “Your hunger’s about to get kicked in the tail by the hottest ranch this side of Carson City.”
If you don’t quite get the joke there, you’re obviously an out-of-touch woman, or a sissy man who has never been with a legal whore. Watch out; Ruffles will revoke your Man Card for such an offense.
Ruffles Ultimate Smokehouse Bacon Dip
The jar wants to make sure I know that there’s real bacon inside, which is not inherently bad, because, hey, bacon, but I’m a little disturbed at what this bacon is suspended in. The name of the dip is completely bacon-centric, but its creamy whiteness left me unsettled.
I decided to plow ahead without reading the ingredients on the jar and let my tongue decide what was going on. It’s not like I wasn’t going to eat it anyways, and ignorance is bliss, right?
I also decided to try to Smokehouse Bacon Dip with the Kickin’ Jalapeño Ranch Chips, because that’s what Emily Chang did in the commercial, and I always follow the serving suggestions of snack food manufacturers.
Speaking of which, why not just have Emily Chang turn into a dude at the end of the Ruffles Ultimate commercial? Who wants a sexy chick interrupting your male-bonding poker game? After all, nothing says “completely heterosexual guy gathering” like getting something thick, white and creamy all over your hands with your best buds?
Damn these hackles! So distracting! Anyways, as you can see, Ruffles Ultimate chips immediately failed the “hardercore” test, breaking almost immediately after contact with the thick dip. Way to fail at the one thing you claimed you could accomplish, Ultimate chips. I just so happened to have a bag of regular Ruffles in my cupboard, so I thought a comparison might be in order…
As for the taste of the dip, it was…well, kind of bland, really. Kind of like a half-assed blend of ranch and sour cream flavors. Out of the three rather large chipfuls of Smokehouse Bacon Dip I ate, only one actually contained a chunk with texture that suggested I was eating a piece of bacon, and even then, it was limp and chewy.
The bacon flavor itself, despite the jar’s claim of real bacon, tasted more like Bacon Bits, and was more of an aftertaste. It’s sad when “bland white stuff” taste overwhelms “real bacon” taste. It even overwhelmed the bit of heat from the chips, somehow. I never knew bland could be so strong.
In hindsight, I’m glad I tried the dip before I read the ingredients. Some of the ingredients with sub-ingredients (have I used the word “ingredients” enough yet?) include “sour cream flavor”, “smoky bacon type flavor” and “butter type flavor”. I’ve never seen so many types. Especially without the grammatically appropriate hyphens.
Ruffles Ultimate Smokehouse Bacon Dip wasn’t gross, per se; it was just bland and disappointing. I wasn’t exactly expecting to be blown away with awesome bacon flavor, nor was I expecting to suddenly be wearing ridiculous bejeweled headphones. I was just expecting something beyond blah. I also was not expecting butter type flavor.
But Smokehouse Bacon Dip is joy in a jar compared to what was to come next…
Ruffles Ultimate Beef N’ Cheese Dip
And here we have the dip that started it all. There’s real beef inside, which I already knew from the Facebook post that told me it contained not just real beef, but real beef brisket.
No questions regarding meat content here; when I opened the lid, I was greeted with, well…that. Ominous lumps hiding just under the surface of a sea of processed cheese. I was already filled with trepidation.
The Ultimate chips fared better with this dip, as the cheese was less thick than the Smokehouse Bacon Dip.
However, the regular Ruffles fared just as well, so Ultimate still loses.
These were the first and last two bites of Beef N’ Cheese Dip I will ever experience. I wanted to stop at one, but I already had the second chip loaded up, and I thought the dip deserved at least two chances.
Let me explain further…
Ruffles Ultimate Beef N’ Cheese Dip is horrible. As the dip first entered my mouth, my taste buds were met with processed cheese flavor, which was not unexpected. However, it went beyond just processed, and ventured into, no, past the worst elementary-school-cafeteria nacho cheese you’ve ever tasted.
And then there was the beef. The chunks were visibly large, but also disturbingly soft. The more I chewed, the worse it got. It started out like a bad piece of meat from a can of Dinty Moore stew, but quickly turned into what I can only describe as “value” generic-brand dog food. I’ve never tasted dog food, but I’ve certainly smelled it, and the “beef brisket” chunks in this dip must be close to what you’d feed your dog if you hate it and want it to die. It is animal cruelty disguised as human chip dip.
Just when I thought it couldn’t be worse, the cheese goo from Hell and the dog food chunks somehow conspired to make the aftertaste even worse. Sometimes I go into food knowing that it’s going to be bad; I steel myself, but soldier on. This…this I was not expecting. The taste lingered in my mouth like a wretched food poisoning-induced vomit, which was appropriate, because I actually felt nauseous after eating it.
I was actually hungry before I had started this review; after the Beef N’ Cheese dip, I honestly had no desire to eat anything, instead dousing my mouth with a cold, bitter mug of coffee that had been hanging around for hours. I verbalized actual “ugh” and “bleeeeeh” sounds as I reeled around my house, which may sound overdramatic, but I was alone, and the sounds were genuine.
The taste refused to leave, like an animal had died inside the wall of my house, except the only exterminator that could eliminate this putrid flavor would be the cold, bony finger of Death himself.
Okay, that last part was a little overdramatic. But only a little.
Overall, my Ruffles Ultimate experience was far from ultimate. The flavor of the Kickin’ Jalapeño Ranch Chips was okay but nothing original or fantastic, and the deeper, wider ridges were actually less effective in preventing chip breakage when up against a thick dip.
The Smokehouse Bacon Dip was hardly a bacon party in my mouth, and the dip itself, chock full of “type” flavors, had hardly any flavor at all. I don’t expect a whole lot out of a jarred, shelf-stable dip, but I expected more than a vaguely sour cream/ranchy base with some chewy bits of fake-tasting bacon.
Last and most definitely least, the Beef N’ Cheese dip was a horrorshow that makes me wish I had a time machine so I that I could go back and tell myself to never read Facebook again just so I had never known it existed. I just realized I never bothered to read the ingredients on the jar of this dip, and you know what? I’m not going to. I’ve already been traumatized enough. I don’t need any further confirmation that this dip is made from the Devil’s jizz and boiled chunks of old horse meat.
Oh, right, I actually forgot about my hackles for some minutes, there. Here’s a parting quote from Frito Lay North America’s Vice President of Marketing: “Guys live for larger-than-life moments that fuel legendary stories they share for years. Male bonding is a rite of passage for guys, and what better way to bond than by attending one of the most exciting parties on the planet. The Ruffles Ultimate line was created to fuel epic moments. It’s in moments like these, often over a bag of chips, where recounting the tale is almost as fun as being there the first time.”
These are some of the dumbest words about any food product I’ve ever seen in print. I could rip it apart for another good 500 words, but I already never want to see the words “Ruffles” and “Ultimate” in the same sentence ever again.
The “party” he’s referring to is some Maxim tie-in contest that has since expired. Consider that a blessing, although nothing makes a for some male bonding and a legendary story with an epic moment quite like a circle puke of fake cheese and dog chow all over a group of Maxim models. Hardercore.
Ruffles Ultimate Kickin’ Jalapeño Ranch Chips
Score: 2.5 out of 5 hardercore chips more fragile than the bones of a post-menopausal woman with osteoporosis
Size: 8 oz. bag
Purchased at: Fry’s Foods
Nutritional Quirks: These are chips. Blessedly, they’re just chips.
Ruffles Ultimate Smokehouse Bacon Dip
Score: 1.5 out of 5 BA-ZIIIINGs
Size: 15 oz. jar
Purchased at: Fry’s Foods
Nutritional Quirks: Sour cream type flavor. Smoky bacon type flavor. Butter type flavor.
Ruffles Ultimate Beef N’ Cheese Dip
Score: 0 out of 5 circle vomits
Size: 15 oz. jar
Purchased at: Fry’s Foods
Nutritional Quirks: Since I refuse to read the actual ingredients – Devil’s jizz and old horse meat.
Limited edition retro…throwback Ruffles and Cheetos! Have your nostalgia sensors gone wild yet? Are you ready to go out there and find these chips RIGHT NOW so you can pretend it’s…uh, whatever year these bags are meant to imitate?
I would love to tell you that year. Or anything else about these chips. The Internet seems completely devoid of information about their existence, minus this Flickr picture I found that showcases all the other retro brands I didn’t find; namely, Cheetos Puffs, Rold Gold Pretzel Rods and King Size Fritos. The photo also includes Taco Doritos, but I already reviewed those.
So this news post is sadly deprived of news, beyond the fact that I can tell you they exist. I can also tell you that I expected the chips to contain identical ingredients to a regular bag of Ruffles or Cheetos. The chips looked exactly the same as modern Ruffles and Cheetos. Going off of Frito-Lay’s website, the Ruffles contained the exact same and amount of ingredients as regular Ruffles.
The Cheetos are a little more interesting, however. I could taste no difference between retro and regular Cheetos, but the ingredients do appear different. Retro Cheetos use vegetable oil, while “contemporary” Cheetos use corn and/or sunflower oil. Retro Cheetos include cheddar cheese seasoning and cheddar cheese, while the regular Cheetos just have the latter. And finally, retro Cheetos list salt as the last ingredient, where salt falls in the middle of the list on regular Cheetos. So there do seem to be some differences, even if my palate is apparently not refined enough to taste them.
The back of the Cheetos bag also has Chester Cheetah goin’ all Uncle Sam, and also says, “Here’s to over 60 years of great flavor”. So Cheetos is having an anniversary. What about the rest of the brands? Who knows, the Internet won’t tell me. It is all mystery. But I figured they should be thrown up on the Internet, if only to catalog their existence.
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.
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
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.
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