Somebody at Lay’s is either confused or horny, or perhaps both. On its packaging, there’s an artist’s palette that says “Do us a Flavor.” Instead of paint blobs, there is basil, tomato and other assorted rustic ingredients on the wooden plate. What the hell does painting and flavors have anything to do with each other?

I’m not sure what Lay’s means because a palate regarding taste is different than this kind of palette. If they mean artisan by those ingredients, fine…but that’s not the same as artist. The connection between paint and edibility manifests something else entirely, which could be the worst form of subliminal message with “Do us…” I really shouldn’t overthink it because the harder I process this, the quicker my mind will melt.

The only thing I’m certain of is it’s a contest that could win me one million buckaroos if I create a new flavor (Smoked haddock and mussels, mmmm). Maybe that’s the tie that binds? Creating is what artists do and you’re an artist if you invent a new kind of chip. Either way, Lay’s is misguided because when I think of paint and eating I think of two things: Kids noshing on lead paint chips from China or edible paint on boobs (and thingies).

Let’s be honest, I’m not here to give you my thoughts on the theme of a contest. We just want to know how good or bad these LIMITED EDITION Lay’s Sweet Onion Potato Chips are.

Like the primary colors, I believe potato chips for the most part, come in three main flavors. Think of a prism when direct light beams in and the color spectrum flows out. All the other varieties fall into the wide range between the three categories as I shall explain below.

Category one is the potato chip where the potato is still the overriding taste, such as the ordinary boring potato chip or Salt & Vinegar.

Category two are the bbq-ish chips that can range from honey mesquite to ketchup flavors.

Category three is some type of sour cream, oniony garlicky concoction.

If you think about all the potato chips you’ve tasted, they should fall into one of the three.

Of course, I’m oversimplifying it as there are oddities that might not fit, like pickle or the weirdo ones from Walker’s crisps (Irish Famine or something like that). Have you seen some of their varieties? I’m not sure if I should be jealous or repulsed, maybe both.

In America, we get sweet onion which makes its home in the onion-garlic realm extremely well. I hope Lay’s reconsiders the limited edition title and makes it permanent. I also hope Lay’s reconsiders the stupid “Do us a flavor” theme but everyone is a critic in today’s string theory universe.

Upon opening this purple bag, I inhaled the zesty smell of onions. Like cutting into a red onion, a fresh acidic scent gently hit my nose. But the best part, no tears.

That was a good sign, if not a spoken promise that these onion chips were going to knock me in the ghoulies with taste. Busted testicles or not, Lay’s has a winner.

I normally eat chips one by one because I hate the grease and salt crystals that sometime coat my fingers. However, I found myself hamfisting these while watching the Olympics. Yes, I see the irony of eating chips as I watch athletes competing at a world class level, but I never wanted to swim in the 200 meters anyway.

Obvious and true, these sweet onion chips are the freaking tops. They’re sweet and musky but the pleasure of onion hugs my tongue, then the tastes build on each other before it donkeypunches my taste buds. Like a slow roar from a crowd, these chips are not subtle but they coax the intensity of sweet onion slowly.

The first thing I tasted was the heady onion, similar to a bag of Funyuns. Then the garlic slapped me on the ass and, finally, that molasses bukkaked on my face with literally sweet, sweet pleasure. I should also point out that the molasses adds complexity because it doesn’t overshadow the deepness of the chip. Finally, a touch of vinegar brings the chip to life.

Lay’s, you clever bastard. Who would’ve thought tweaking the sugar meter of a sour cream and onion chip would work? Lay’s did, and I will more than happily submit to this bag on my knees wearing a gimp mask.

Now with every fun-time, there’s a mess and these chips are very greasy. I had to wipe my hands on napkins, my trousers, and various pieces of furniture after devouring a handful. The other problem is that eating too many will numb the intensity of the flavors. I found myself on the declining end of the deliciousness curve bell by over-indulging.

The chip is well balanced between the savory onion and salt. It’s a superb thought-out snack and I beg of Lay’s to please make it a regular offering. If Donkeypunches were as good as these chips, I would walk around with knots on the back of my head every day.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 ounces/15 chips – 160 calories, 10 grams of fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 160 milligrams of sodium,15 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of dietary fiber, 2 grams of sugars, and 2 grams of protein.)

Item: Limited Edition Lay’s Sweet Onion Potato Chips
Price: $4.29
Size: 10 ounce bag
Purchased at: Publix, where the cashiers are too friendly and the customers are seething
Rating: 8 out of 10
Pros: Just as the bag says, sweet onion and it’s delicious. Flavors build up nicely. Zesty scent of onions. The Olympics! The garlic and molasses adds depth as well as complexity. Donkeypunch jokes make me laugh.
Cons: Eating too many will numb the taste. Greasy as hell. NBC’s Olympics coverage has been riddled with snafu’s and spoiler ruinificationisms. Limited Edition for now. The “Do Us A Flavor” theme is ill conceived. Actually donkeypunching someone is not cool.

Have you ever had real Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese?

I’m not talking about the stuff you see on the grocery store shelves – or even the domestically labeled “parmesan” you see in the fancy swanky deli cheese section of your Walmart. I’m talking about those massive, aged rounds imported from Italy and encountered in the kind of swanky, dimly lit Italian restaurant your rich, possibly mob-involved Italian uncle takes your family to on special occasions.

If you haven’t experienced this “King” of cheeses (in which case, let me introduce you to my uncle Dave), then you’re missing out. True Italian Parmigiano-Reggiano is nutty and fruity, salty and astringent, and meaty. It’s the kind of cheese which makes you remember it as the best part of going to a restaurant, even after you’ve downed a week’s worth of calories in flatbread pizzas following its appearance on an appetizer plate.

Having recently tasted this epitome of aged dairy (and, I should add, gorged myself in flatbread pizzas) I was looking forward to getting my fill of classic Italian flavors in the convenience of a bag and a fraction of the fat. Forty percent less fat, to be precise, which is exactly how much fat Lay’s has slashed from their new Kettle Cooked Sun-Dried Tomato & Parmesan chips.

When judging the flavor of [INSERT CHEESE NAME HERE] chips, I like to consult the handy dandy statistical tool known as the bell curve. Given a normal chip (read: pretty much all chips excluding those green ones or chips that look like Jesus) one assumes the chip’s flavor is worthwhile if it’s more than one standard deviation from the norm, which in the case of any potato chip professing the flavor of cheese, is your standard Cheddar and Sour Cream. More than two standard deviations from Cheddar and Sour Cream? That’s for sure a winner. Three? There’s a chip worth eating an entire bag in one sitting.

They say the King of Cheese can stand on its own (or maybe I’m thinking of this song), and if that’s true, then Lay’s wasn’t exactly giving a vote of confidence to the namesake flavor by including Cheddar and Mozzarella Cheese before Parmesan on the ingredient list. Butter and Asiago come later, but the general aroma is that of cheese, salt, and that ubiquitous “chip” smell of maltodextrin and garlic. In other words; we’re starting conspicuously close to the center of that bell curve.

I was excited to see that the “Natural Sun Dried Tomato Type flavor” in the seasoning resembles the stuff that makes Cooler Ranch Doritos so awesome, but the Sun Dried Tomato flavor itself is muted and tough to put a finger on. Inconsistent at best, it comes off as not quite sweet enough or assertive. Last I checked, the flavor of the tomato is intensified through the drying process, yet I’m pretty sure this has less tomato flavor than those ketchup chips we reviewed.

All could be forgiven, mind you, if the Parmesan flavor approached anything near that of true Parmigiano-Reggiano. Unfortunately, I find it ambiguous underwhelming. It’s slightly creamy and a tad meaty, but the assertive and bold notes – not to mention that addictively fruity quality — aren’t there. Don’t get me wrong, you’ll find this tastes like those shelf-stable packs of Kraft “Parmesan,” but it’s more one note and salty than anything else. Which brings us around to the point of the bell curve, and how, even with four types of cheeses and the presence of natural sun dried tomato “type” flavor, these chips can’t break free of a single standard deviation away from the most ubiquitous of all chip flavors.

Still, for a 40 percent reduced fat chip, you’d be hard-pressed to notice a difference in crunch level, although the slightly less than par greasiness of the cheese will be missed by those who enjoy licking their fingers (and not, I should add, by my keyboard.)

All things considered, it’s a decent chip if you have the obsessive tendency to find a way to shave a few grams of fat out of your day, or if you’re just looking for a gentle way to introduce your neighborhood’s resident sour cream and onion chip fan to something a bit more sophisticated. But those looking for a taste distinctly and unmistakably Italian taste are going to find these a little lackluster, more akin to those cakey packets of Kraft “parmesan” than to the “King of Cheese.”

(Nutrition facts – 1 ounce/about 16 chips – 130 calories, 6 grams of fat, 1 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 135 milligrams of sodium, 410 milligrams of potassium, 19 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of dietary fiber, 1 grams of sugar, and 2 grams of protein.)

Item: Lay’s 40% Reduced Fat Kettle Cooked Sun-Dried Tomato & Parmesan
Purchased Price: $3.49
Size: 8 ounces
Purchased at: Giant
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Less calories and fat than regular chips without loss of crunch factor. Four types of cheeses. All natural. Sun dried tomato flavor is a nice change of pace. Actually having an application for those college statistics classes I suffered through. Keeping my computer clean.
Cons: Only 20 less calories and a few fat grams less than regular kettle chips. Four types of cheeses you probably won’t be able to detect. Parmesan is garden variety domestic stuff. Sun-dried tomato flavor could be more assertive. No grease to lick off my fingers.

Ketchup is so ubiquitous that I sometimes forget what it tastes like, if that makes any sense. You see I associate it with hot dogs, fries or hamburgers and rather than realizing the essence of ketchup, I’m recalling the taste of those foods instead. I know it sounds crazy but if you think about it, we attach the condiment with other foods and not the ketchup itself.

So in preparation for this review, I ate a spoonful of ketchup (or “catsup” if you are a derelict). I never realized how sweet it is, nor could I appreciate the tanginess of the vinegar because I was focused more on the burger or the oozing cheese on the meat.

Don’t get me wrong, ketchup is just as important to a hamburger as much as the quality of the beef. It’s like a letterer of a comic book, the person who does the word balloons and sound effects. That component is just as vital and needed but you’re really focused on the art.

Well, ketchup is finally the star courtesy of Lay’s but in a backhanded move, it’s spicy ketchup. Poor tomato based sauce. Like my Real Ghostbusters collection, you still cannot get the respect that you deserve.

Ketchup chips have been around for some time. I remember first encountering them when I took off to Manchester, England. You see, I should I have been studying the rules against perpetuities in Property Law (these are the people that say catsup by the way) but that’s so boring.

“What is this? Walkers Tomato Ketchup crisps???” I shouted in the supermarket. “Roast Chicken, they have freakkking roast chicken chips too?” Then I belted out an obnoxious laugh and like an idiot, pointed at things like wine gums and spotted dicks to the anger of my English girlfriend. I was sad I never bought a package of ketchup chips and have always regretted it.

Lay’s themselves brought the Ketchup flavor to the Canadians which topped their previous culinary accomplishment, the introduction of Nadia G (I kid, I kid). So it was in great anticipation from the aisle to the drive home that I ripped open the bag immediately and tried one. I’m not a fan of normal Lay’s because I always felt the chips were too thin, but they are always crispy and it’s ketchup!

I was not disappointed. The aroma swirling was akin to pouring ketchup on a sizzling burger. It is that familiar sweet and slightly sour vinegar smell that infiltrates your nostrils at a cookout as you swat at annoying mosquitos.

The red blotches on the insides of the bag were scary. It triggered a fear of the inevitable puberty discussion my wife will probably take care of when and if we have a daughter. They looked oily but when I reluctantly touched them, it was what I call flavor dust (you know like the powdery remnants from Doritos or Cheetos?). These chips were, in fact, not at all greasy.

The first chip was similar to a salt and vinegar chip without the salt and replaced by sugar. It was like a cousin of a barbecue chip, which is completely logical since some barbecue sauces are tomato based. It was initially unimpressive, but who only eats one chip?

As I ate a few more, I could taste the ketchup. There is a nice onion tang that comes up from behind making me wish I had a bottle of UFO White to rinse it down. These were so good. As weird as it sounds, these chips tasted better as I ate more and not because the flavors were emphasized as I grinded chip after chip…the flavors actually developed.

I was also amazed by the heat that hung around. I could taste the jalapeño in these chips and not of the canned pickled variety. Tasting a nice bit of the pepper which doesn’t overwhelm is rare and pleasant. I can also say the level of spiciness is tolerable, like a stick of Big Red chewing gum (and if you can’t handle that, you probably say “catsup”).

The only negative thing I can say is the shade of these potato chips. They look like chips colored by a burnt sienna crayon, which is not appealing to me. However, it is the flavor that counts.

Having a penchant for spicy foods, I understand why Lay’s made these spicy. It balances the sweet tomato perfectly and is necessary. The pepper contrasts the sweet vinegar and prevents it from getting boring. I can imagine eating ketchup chips sans jalapeño would start to get bland to my taste buds.

I’m enjoying the fact Lay’s has been introducing some interesting varieties as of late. It was worth the wait despite my actions at that innocent Sainsbury’s supermarket in cloudy, murky industrial Manchester.

As of this writing, the spice is still lingering on my tongue enjoyably even though I ate my last chip five minutes ago. I hope Frito-Lay keeps pumping out Spicy Ketchup because I love them. I cannot even come up with a hokey, snide or jackass tinged pompous line to end this. I simply lurrrve these. Must. Buy. Must. Eat. Don’t. Say. Catsup.

(Nutrition facts – 1 ounce/about 17 chips – 160 calories, 10 grams of fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 140 milligrams of sodium, 320 milligrams of potassium, 16 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of dietary fiber, 2 grams of sugars, and 2 grams of protein.)

Other Lay’s Spicy Ketchup reviews:
Fatguy Food Blog

Item: Lay’s Spicy Ketchup Potato Chips
Purchased Price: $4.29
Size: 10 ounces
Purchased: Publix
Rating: 9 out of 10
Pros: Tastes like ketchup. The heat is complimentary and tolerable. UFO White if you can find it. Sweet, vinegary and spicy, what is not to love. Nadia G., I’m addicted to her show.
Cons: The color of red kryptonite on my food is scary. My behavior in that supermarket. Who says catsup? I loathe that word. Rules Against Perpetuities.

You know what, dear TIB readers? I’m angry. I’m angry because I’ve been sitting here for a good half hour now, staring at the awful blinking cursor on a blank document. The dreaded Writer’s Block.

I’m not really angry at my Writer’s Block, however. I’m angry at food. Okay, that’s not fair; I love food, and it’s not food’s fault. It’s the fault of food company’s marketing team, or maybe their R&D departments. I don’t really care who; I’m just angry at all of them. Angry that they’re making my intro to this review about Lay’s Chipotle Ranch Potato Chips so fucking difficult. Here’s some opening themes that I’ve already written but discarded as totally lame:

Regional-flavored potato chips are stereotyping whole regions of the US with their flavors!

Fake angry letter to Lay’s about said stereotypical chips!

Chipotle is the latest food trend and it’s totally been beaten into the ground!

I think the third one is actually the crux of my problem. Chipotle has been overused. What’s left to say? I typically write my review intros before I even taste the product; I like to explore and mock marketing angles and make wild speculations about how awful or tasty the product is going to be based on little to no actual facts. I’ve had enough chipotle-flavored products to see exactly where my review is going:

“These chips have some heat but where’s the smoky flavor that really sets chipotle apart from just generic spiciness?”

Boom. Done. Didn’t even have to open the bag. You’re welcome.

I’d like to be a glass half-full kinda gal, but I’ve been burned, as it were, by so many disappointing chipotle products that I just can’t get excited about these chips. I’ve been turned into a dour food reviewer. My jokes are dried up and played out. I’m even getting angry at spellcheck for refusing to recognize chipotle as a correctly spelled word. I am “The Grim Eater” from Ratatouille. My stomach, two sizes too small.

But I feel an obligation to the readership of this fine, upstanding website to tell you about Lay’s Chipotle Ranch. They’re only available in the southwest region of the United States, so the majority of you will never get to try them. I must cast off this chipotle albatross and march forward!

Let’s start with the regional angle: way back in March of last year, Lay’s introduced their first round of regional flavors. In what was only my second review on TIB, I took a look at their first southwest regional offering, Southwest Cheese & Chiles. There were four other regional flavors, and they mostly seemed to make sense in regards to representing the flavors of their regions.

This time around, along with the southwest’s Chipotle Ranch, they’ve also launched Honey Mustard for the northeast (“tangy mustard combined with a touch of sweet honey”) and Creamy Garden Ranch for the Midwest (“sour cream mixed with spices and fresh cucumbers for the flavor of herb ranch dressing”).

I’m not exactly sure how the other two flavors relate to their regions. Hey New York, are you totally in love with honey mustard? I thought you guys went the spicy brown route. Midwest, you really into ranch dressing? Well, Michigan and South Dakota are tied for tenth fattest state, so maybe they’ve got something there; plus, cucumber chips sound interesting. However, I suppose chipotle makes sense for the southwest. People generally think of chiles and spicy food when they think of southwestern cuisine, and, again, chipotle is the hot flavor of the moment.

Lay’s description of Chipotle Ranch is “sour cream and buttermilk ranch mixed with chipotle spice and green chili”. Not sure what ranch has to do with the southwest. I guess they’re going for that “spicy/cooling” angle, but really, there’s no point in that. They would have been fine with just chipotle and green chili. But hey, there are a lot of ranches in the southwest! That explains everything.

After all this bitching and moaning and generally being a curmudgeon, it’s time to take off my crankypants, put on my ObjectiveReviewerpants, and get down to business.

Upon opening the bag, there was a distinct lack of any sort of odor, which I found odd. Usually some sort of aroma hits my nostrils when I tear open a bag of chips, but there wasn’t much to go on with these. The chips themselves are covered with a medium amount of flavor powder, appropriately orangish-red with little flecks of green that could represent either the green chili or the ranch. Or both!

The first thing that hit my taste buds was the heat. It was surprisingly mild, but enjoyable. And, of course, try as I might, chip after chip, that signature smoky flavor of chipotle was absent. My mouth wept. Not literally, though; I try to stay off the Thorazine while I’m doing a review.

As I kept eating, the heat built gradually but nicely. The ranch flavoring, which I didn’t think I would like, worked well with the spice. It made its presence known, but wasn’t overwhelming. I could even taste hints of the sour cream, which I thought would be nonexistent. It complimented both the ranch and the…”chipotle” quite nicely. As for the green chili, I couldn’t distinguish it from the chipotle. The spiciness was too generalized; Lay’s could have just called the chips “Spicy Ranch” and I would have nodded my head in agreement. There’s an interesting aftertaste that I would describe as “herby”. I actually liked it, but I couldn’t put my finger on exactly what it was.

My pessimistic view towards all things claiming to be chipotle-flavored remains, but I’m gracious enough to put down the bitter pill and say that Lay’s Chipotle Ranch is a tasty chip. The heat level builds nicely and stops just short of being too hot, and the ranch and sour cream both work well with it. Real chipotle flavoring is my Moby Dick, but I can’t blame Lay’s any more than anyone else. Looking on the bright side, hey – at least my region got a new flavor! Suck it, Northwestern US! (Still want to try cucumber-flavored chips.)

(Nutrition Facts – 1 package – 290 calories, 160 calories from fat, 18 grams of total fat, 2 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 4.5 grams of polyunsaturated fat, 9 grams of monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 320 milligrams of sodium, 640 milligrams of potassium, 28 grams of total carbohydrates, 2 grams of dietary fiber, 2 grams of sugars, 4 grams of protein, 6% vitamin A, 2% calcium, 15% vitamin C, 6% iron, 10% vitamin E, 10% niacin, 8% thiamin, and 15% vitamin B6.)

Item: Lay’s Chipotle Ranch Potato Chips
Price: 99 cents
Size: 1 7/8 ounces
Purchased at: Circle K
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Gradual build of heat level. “The Grim Eater”. Ranch and sour cream were just right. The term “chipotle albatross”. Interesting herby aftertaste.
Cons: NO CHIPOTLE FLAVORING. Spellcheck being a dick. NO CHIPOTLE FLAVORING. Getting’ the “Thorazine drools”. NO CHIPOTLE FLAVORING.