I want you to close your eyes for a moment and imagine a Classic BLT sandwich.
Picture yourself on the patio of a quaint small town cafe in the heat of July, your lips warmed by a cool Coke Zero and your taste buds salivating as the aroma of apple-wood smoked bacon glides into your periphery. A mural of green romaine and juicy ripe tomatoes is hardly contained between the toasted white bread, while plump bacon invites your carnivorous spirit in this delight of its fatty yet crisp, salty but sweet, taste of hog heaven.
There’s crunch. There’s smoke. There’s a hint of creaminess and acidity, and there’s relief and sweetness. It’s enough to make you pause to contemplate whether this is the best sandwich you’ve ever eaten or if you’ve just died and gone to Heaven, all before fulfilling a sudden emotional urge to quote the movie Babe.
That’ll do pig. That’ll do.
Got that image in your head? Good, because that’s the kind of imagination you’ll have to have to taste the Classic BLT flavors and textures when your sitting on your couch watching reruns of old NCAA football games on ESPN Classic in the wee hours of the morning.
Don’t get me wrong, Lay’s new Classic BLT isn’t bad if you’re looking for a lighter take on sour cream and onion flavors, but when it comes to two of the three letters in the BLT acronym, the new chips miss the mark completely. Ironically, the only letter decently represented is “L,” although I don’t think it makes enough of a difference to qualify as a serving of fruit and vegetables.
I knew my expectations were too high right off the bat when I opened the bag. The chips looked and smelled like sour cream and onion chips, and while the buttermilk tang and heavy onion flavor weren’t distractingly overwhelming in the seasoning, you’d have a hard time picking out bacon and tomato if you hadn’t looked at the bag you were stuffing your face from.
There’s a slight dextrose sweetness and weak tomato powder flavor that lets you know there are hints of tomato, but when it comes to projecting meaty and smokey bacon, this comes off more in the vegan imitation variety than the smokey-meaty-fatty All-American hog.
Clearly a potato chip that intends to imitate a food which derives much of its flavor from from its texture is bound for failure, but I was at least expecting something to facilitate my daily helping of fake smoke flavor and salty, finger licking greasiness. Now all I have is breath that smells of sour cream and onion, and a bag of BLT chips that might — keyword, might — taste like a BLT sandwich should I find a worthy BLT sandwich to stick them in.
(Nutrition Facts – 1 ounce (About 15 chips) – 160 calories, 90 calories from fat, 10 grams of total fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 150 milligrams of sodium, 320 milligrams of potassium, 15 grams of total carbohydrates, 1 grams of dietary fiber, 1 gram of sugars, 2 grams of protein, 10% vitamin C, 2% iron, 4% niacin, and 4% thiamin)
Item: Lay’s Classic BLT Potato Chips
Size: 10 ounces
Purchased at: Weis Markets
Rating: 5 out of 10
Pros: All natural ingredients. No bacon cooking required. Classic BLT “crunch.” An excuse to watch Babe. Resistant Starch, son.
Cons: Doesn’t taste like a BLT. Weak tomato and almost no bacon flavor. Lacks lip-smacking fattitude of freshly cooked bacon. Doesn’t count as a serving of fruit and vegetables. Sour Cream and Onion breath.