This is the situation in which I currently find myself with regard to Jalapeno Kettle Chips. I'm sure that, in time, this addiction will pass. But that time is not now. And recently, while devouring the latest bag of crispy, spicy, greasy goodness, I paused for reflection. I reflected upon the times throughout my life in which I have become seriously enamoured with a specific flavour of potato chip.
It hasn't been as often as one might think. Frankly, the ordinary and ubiquitous flavours of Barbecue and Salt & Vinegar and their ilk hold no attraction for me. No. To truly captivate me, a potato chip flavour must be somewhat more unusual. Like jalapeno. Or pizza. Pizza . . .
My mind drifted back. Back to the days of my childhood. Back to the last time I was addicted to a potato chip (apart from a brief love affair with Miss Vickie's Original when they first appeared). Back to the 70's.
In the photo, I, along with my two younger cousins, appear ready to dash out the door and embark on an evening of trick-or-treating. The bags we are holding represent a clever marketing strategy by the Humpty-Dumpty chip people. These bags were intended to serve a dual purpose. When purchased, they were full of small bags of chips to be distributed to trick-or-treaters. Then, the bag itself was meant to be used as a trick-or-treating sack.
There was one flaw in the plan. The bag had to be emptied of its original contents before it could be used for trick-or-treating. And if one or two or ten of the little bags of chips went missing while being transferred from one container to another, who would know?
The Humpty-Dumpty organization had clearly reached a pinnacle of creativity in the 1970's. Because in addition to the standard flavours of Barbecue, Plain, and Salt & Vinegar, they introduced new, bold, never-before-seen flavours of chips. Like pizza. Ahhh . . . pizza chips. How I loved them. They were unlike any potato chips I had tasted before. And with so few chips in each bag, it became necessary to eat several of those little Halloween bags to feel satiated. Several little bags that were quietly gathered and eaten while my parents were downstairs, distracted by The Price Is Right. Looking back, it amazes me that any bags remained for the trick-or-treaters. My mother must have suspected something and hidden some away.
Sadly, it seems that I was the only child who adored pizza-flavoured potato chips. It seems that no one else shared my addiction. Because as suddenly as they had appeared that one Halloween, pizza chips were gone. Never to be seen again. Not at Halloween, nor at any other time of year. It would be a long time before I would find a potato chip to which I could feel such devotion. It would not be until many years later. Until the discovery of my beloved Jalapeno Kettle Chips.
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