The chips are ultra thin, buttery white and ringed at their delicate edges in a nutty brown; striations radiate out from the center, with random arrangements of bubbles; the chips are crisped into parabolic waves. I’m dismayed that so many of them are broken, because they are so pretty when whole but I’ll sacrifice the Pringles/Stepford Wives perfection and just appreciate a good eat.
I tried the Sea Salt Mist first, responding to the packaging claim of “Low Sodim” with a sarcastic chortle. These were simply (and I mean that in it’s best, profoundest sense) so good and they really are lower in sodium. The Ginger on Fire flavor was good but not fiery enough; I wanted more ginger and I wanted it to linger in my mouth. I brought the chips to my neighbors to see what they thought. Wife thought they were very good; Husband loves ginger but couldn’t discern the flavor at first (he’s also the only person to go on record as having moved to Massachusetts for the climate). Both agreed more ginger was needed. The Barbecue Bliss was deemed very good by several tasters; they liked the fact that the flavor didn’t overwhelm. I, on the other hand, wanted some lime tanginess to go with the paprika. Everyone liked the Original flavor, though none could distinguish the garlic.
I dispensed the chips to my tasters like a priest depositing those wafers on the tongues of the devout but nobody in their right mind eats chips in this holier-than-thou way: I would have been content to nosh on all these until carb-induced death. They are satisfying snack treats. That said, I still wanted more bling per bite; I wanted the chips to be themselves, just more so; more ginger, more garlic, more fire.