I don’t like starting this review with a dictionary definition, like a fourth grader begins his or her science presentation, but here I go.

According to the dictionary, the word “ultimate” means “being the best or most extreme example of its kind,” and I believe that was the definition Frito-Lay wanted associated with their new Ruffles Ultimate Potato Chips, which are thicker and have deeper ridges than regular Ruffles.

I’m no potato chip maker, heck I don’t even own a deep fryer, but I’m pretty sure Frito-Lay could’ve made these Ruffles Ultimate potato chips even more extreme.

Are these ridges really “the ultimate”? I’ve seen deeper ridges in light wavelength diagrams and Zen garden sand. Also, are the thickness of these chips really the thickest Frito-Lay could’ve gone? I don’t think so. They should’ve been so thick and crunchy that chewing on them with your mouth open creates booming sound waves that have ridges as deep as the chips themselves.

Ruffles Ultimate comes in two apostrophed flavors: Kickin’ Jalapeño Ranch and Sweet & Smokin’ BBQ.

Ruffles Ultimate Sweet & Smokin’ BBQ is made using three ingredients: potatoes, vegetable oil, and something called Sweet Smokin’ BBQ seasoning, which consists of about 20 ingredients. Those ingredients includes sugar, brown sugar, chipotle chili pepper, molasses, onion powder, tomato powder, paprika extracts, garlic powder, and honey.

Ruffles Ultimate Sweet & Smokin’ BBQ smell like Lay’s barbecue potato chips, and the two chips also kind of taste alike. However, these Ruffles Ultimate chips have a little heat and smokiness to them, thanks to the chipotle. The spiciness isn’t noticeable at first, but your mouth will begin to feel it after the second or third chip. They have less heat than the Doritos Jacked Smoky Chipotle BBQ, so having your Brita pitcher at the ready is unnecessary. The chips are also a little sweet, thanks to the sugar, brown sugar, molasses, and honey, but they’re more spicy than sweet.

Ultimately, the Ruffles Ultimate Sweet & Smokin’ BBQ potato chips are a tasty, crunchy snack, but they don’t rock my snacking socks off. Its flavor is too similar to other barbecue Frito-Lay chips and, while the ridges are bigger, you’re getting an ounce less of chips per bag than the 9-9.5 ounce bags of regular Ruffles at about the same price. So I don’t consider these chips to be the ultimate, instead I think they’re unremarkable.

(Disclosure: I received this bag of Ruffles Ultimate Sweet & Smokin’ BBQ for free from Frito-Lay. I also received a bag of the other flavor, but that was already reviewed by another reviewer, who paid for it. I also received a jar of Ruffles Ultimate Smokehouse Bacon dip for free, but I’m probably not going to review that. I also received a rash from something, but I don’t know from what.)

(Nutrition Facts – 1 ounce – 160 calories, 90 calories from fat, 9 grams of fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 190 milligrams of sodium, 330 milligrams of potassium, 16 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 2 grams of sugar, and 2 grams of protein.)

Other Ruffles Ultimate Sweet & Smokin’ BBQ reviews:
Chip Review

Item: Ruffles Ultimate Sweet & Smokin’ BBQ
Price: FREE
Size: 8 ounces
Purchased at: Received from Frito-Lay
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Tasty. Crunchy. Slight smoky heat from chipotle. Light sweetness. Not called Ruffles Extreme.
Cons: Unremarkable. Tastes too similar to other Frito-Lay chips. Ridges and thickness weren’t as ultimate as they could’ve gone. Chewing with your mouth open. Beginning a review with a dictionary definition.

I have a lot of pet peeves and I collect them like weird old Memaws who hoard those cloying Precious Moment figurines. What is with those scary things? They are always displayed on the dusty shelves of the entertainment center or a bannister. And those black empty dewy eyes staring at me (which I know are really portals to Hell)…it gives me the creeps enough to piss me off.

You know what else pisses me off? When I take a chip and dip it into a bowl of creamy French onion and it breaks off. I’m left staring at the other half stuck in a white thick pool like someone in quicksand. And then I take another potato chip hoping to rescue that one and it breaks too. And then I take another one…well, you get the idea.

By the end, there are so many potato shards sticking out of the bowl it looks like an unholy creation of the unhealthiest cereal ever made… and sometimes when no one is looking, inebriated and alone, I’ll take a spoon and eat it. I just need a chip that can withstand the simple act of dipping.

Ruffles Ultimate has provided the solution to that very problem. However, there is a slight catch because these are only for men. For those of you who drink Dr Pepper Ten, you now have something to eat while watching bum fight videos.

Now if a chip specifically made for the male gender sounds very stupid, it is. I’m not really sure what distinguishes these from the asexual kinds except for the vapid “bro-speak” that adorns the bag. The variety I bought is not just Jalapeño Ranch, they are also graced with “kickin’”.

Too cool for the letter “G” and apparently much too cool for women, hermaphrodites and anyone who isn’t man enough to eat these. Besides, sissies, these ain’t just Ruffles…these are Ruffles Ultimate (rolls eyes). I mean these are so manly that Maxim magazine, home of the ubiquitous 100 top hottest whatever lists, threw a party heralding the second coming of Christ in chip form.

If I sound jaded, I am, because it gets worse. Basically, we have potato chips for the Axe fragrance crowd.

There is a nice earthy musk that greets you when you open the bag. The chips are thicker and “tougher” like kettle chips on steroids. The ridges of the chips are comical as they look exaggerated and the grooves are deep, like miniature fjords. In fact, they appear like the way comic strip artists draw a ridged potato chip. The package even says in fake chalk writing, “Hardercore Ridges for Hardcore Dips.”

Hardercore? Yes, Frito-Lay not only introduced us to potato chips for a man but they gave us a new word as well. I can only wait for the inevitably Hardestcore snack that someone will manufacture to top it. Maybe it will be aimed at jacked up he-men with two penises (one for doing it and the other so he can take a leak while doing it because he is 110 percent man, yo! ONE HUNDRED TEN PERCENT!!).

Frito-Lay must think men are idiots because right on the bag is an arrow pointing to a jar of their hardcore dips like Ruffles Ultimate Smokehouse Bacon. “Oh, is that what they mean by dip??? I thought they meant the handicapped kid I picked on because I’m a real macho man!” (Note: If you do pick on people with handicaps, there is a special place in hell for you.)

There is also a Beef N’ Cheddar Ruffles Ultimate dip, and you know that’s definitely for a man because it’s “N”, not the wussy proper spelling “and.” Maybe I should change my name to “J’ff” because only wimps need that dopey “e.” All this aggro speak makes me want to smash stuff and urinate on something to mark my territory.

I mean, do you expect anything less? They have the gall to call these Ruffles the ULTIMATE version. The only ultimate thing these have accomplished is a huge failure. Sure they can withstand the dip. I’m pretty sure you can dip these in ice cream and they won’t break…but the taste is damn awful. The chips immediately have a grassy cucumber flavor which is revolting. I like a Pimm’s cup or a floral gin and cucumber cocktail every so often, but in a chip? It is disgusting.

Even though the oversized flecks of green are supposed to resemble its hardercore ranch, it has a faint ranch taste. The heat of the jalapeño is even more timid and flaccid. Seriously, people who like hot peppers treat jalapeño like candy. Granted, I am one of those people, but even for the ordinary consumer, the pepper should have way more fire. Disliking this chip is an understatement…I loathe it.

Is there anything positive? A few things come to mind. Now the weak heat lingers like a whining baby and the chip is not greasy which is surprising considering the hardercore thickness of these. Logically, these chips will not break on your average onion/ranch/southwestern chipotle cream blackbean bacon dip unless it is made of cement mix.

I must admit that I am getting damned tired of this new trend of food products aimed at men because it’s just dumb. I haven’t tried the other varieties of this Ultimate Hardercore chip, but I will be avoiding these chips like the way I avoid Diane Keaton movies.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 ounce/about 10 chips – 160 calories, 90 calories from fat, 10 grams of fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 170 milligrams of sodium, 310 milligrams of potassium, 15 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of dietary fiber, 1 gram of sugars, and 2 grams of protein)

Other Ruffles Ultimate Kickin’ Jalapeño Ranch reviews:
The French Ghost
Fatguy Food Blog

Item: Ruffles Ultimate Kickin’ Jalapeño Ranch
Price: $4.29
Size: 8.0 ounce bag
Purchased: Publix
Rating: 3 out of 10
Pros: It will stand up to dips and not break. It is not greasy. It will complete your image of a studly man’s man who is secretly insecure. Changing my name to J’ff. The idea of what one can do with two dingalings instead of one.
Cons: Grassy flavor. Flaccid heat. Food products made for men, Geeze give it up already. Bro speak. The only thing Ultimate is the failure these chips are. The word memaw…it’s not endearing, it’s sad. And those damned Precious Moment figurines which are really vessels to the Devil himself.

Update: Click here to read our Ruffles Ultimate Kickin’ Jalapeño Ranch review

While looking at the gluten-free products page on the Frito-Lay website, because that’s what I do for fun, I came across a new line of Ruffles potato chips — Ruffles Ultimate.

What’s “ultimate” about them? According to this post on the Taquitos forums, the chips are thicker than regular Ruffles, which give them deeper r-r-ridges. The chips come in three flavors: Original, Kickin’ Jalapeño Ranch, and Sweet Smokin’ BBQ. There’s also a Ruffles Ultimate Smokehouse Bacon Flavored Dip.

First, Frito-Lay gianted Cheetos, then they jacked Doritos and now they ultimated Ruffles. I hope they grande Fritos next.

If you’ve tried any of the Ruffles Ultimate flavors, let us know what you think of them in the comments.

Over the last year and change, my family has gotten used to the fact that when we go to the grocery store, at some point I’m going to veer off to search a random aisle for new products to review.  Sometimes there’s nothing, but last week turned up a variety of options to choose from.  That is, until I came across Ruffles Smokehouse Style BBQ chips… then there was no choice at all.  Railroads in Monopoly don’t get purchased as quickly as I bought that bag.
 
The fact is, I love ribs, and I used to have a favorite rib joint that my in-laws introduced me to.  (Not the only reason they’re the best in-laws in the world, but certainly top three.)  This place had more styles of ribs than you can imagine — baby back, St. Louis style spare ribs, Bourbon Street, South Carolina honey, Cajun, Texas beef short ribs, sesame garlic — and they were all excellent.  Worth every inch of the 15 mile drive.  But then last year they suddenly closed when the government bought out the land they were situated on, with no plans to reopen elsewhere.  Damn the Man!

So I’ve been deprived of good ribs for over a year now.  New Year’s Eve came and went without our traditional feast, and it hurt.  And when it’s been that long, well… sometimes anything even vaguely associated with what you’re missing starts to look good.  Veronica Mars may be gone forever, but Kristen Bell’s latest romantic comedy can’t be that bad, right?  (Right?)  I knew no potato chip could ever replace our departed rib joint, but like a lonely man in Amsterdam, I was easy prey for the chips’ siren call.  Part of that is the packaging, which prominently displays a succulent, well-seasoned rack of ribs, but the rest is my innate suggestibility, because apparently some tiny part of me truly believed there were actual ribs in there.  (P.S.- There are not.)

Still, that doesn’t mean the product is doomed to failure.  As you might expect, opening the package wafts a strong smell toward your nostrils.  Even after having consumed most of the bag, there’s still a noticeable but not overpowering scent.  It’s a slightly spicy aroma, though you’d never mistake it for the smell from an actual order of ribs.  (Shame, because I would absolutely buy rib-scented air freshener, and you know you would too.)  Appearance-wise, they just look like regular Ruffles that someone has coated in typical barbecue chip spices.  I’m considering writing to Ruffles and suggesting they include one actual cow bone in every bag, because you just like to have something to gnaw on when you’re done eating, you know?  But that’s another story.

But when you actually taste one, it’s hard to get past the fact that it tastes like: a barbecue chip.  No less and not much more.  There’s perhaps some minor variation from your “average” barbecue chip — these just might be a shade smoother with not quite as much sharp aftertaste, and at times I thought I detected a hint of smokiness — but then again, maybe not.  It would take a more discerning palate than mine to draw a clear distinction between these and any other BBQ chips you’ve eaten.  Naming them “smokehouse style” is a good marketing tool, as is the picture of ribs on the bag, but a more honest name might’ve been “Basically Just Some Barbecue Chips (with ridges).”  Now I happen to like barbecue chips, so that’s not the end of the world.  But if you entertained a vague hope that these would in some way approximate a true rib-eating experience, well… sorry that you’re as naive or desperate as me.

In the end, it’s as true of rib joints as it is of life: something great, once lost, can never be recaptured.  You can wander around New Jersey all you want (and I have), you’re never going to find Wellsville.  But of course, you never really expected to — your brain knew all along what your heart won’t accept.  So you can either content yourself with the journey and your ridged barbecue chips, or you can keep looking for another fantastic rib shack.  Me, I’m going to continue the search.  But in the meantime, Ruffles Smokehouse Style BBQ flavored potato chips are an unremarkable but steadfast companion to have along for the ride. 

(Nutrition Facts – 1 oz/about 11 chips – 160 calories, 90 calories from fat, 10 grams of total fat, 1 gram of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 2.5 grams of polyunsaturated fat, 5 grams of monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 170 milligrams of sodium, 210 milligrams of potassium, 15 grams of total carbohydrates, 1 gram of dietary fiber, 2 grams of sugars, and 2 grams of protein.)

Other Ruffles Smokehouse Style BBQ reviews:

Fat Guy Food Blog
We Rate Stuff

Item: Ruffles Smokehouse Style BBQ Potato Chips
Price: $4.29
Size: 9 ounces
Purchased at: Giant
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Ridged for your pleasure.  Tantalizing packaging.  Smell is appealing but not overly spicy.  Rib-scented air freshener.  As far as BBQ chips go, they’re pretty good ones.  Obscure Pete & Pete references for the mf’ing WIN.
Cons: Be honest, they’re just barbecue chips.  The government stealing the rib man’s land.  Deceptive packaging.  Hard to tell if they’re actually any smokier than any other barbecue chip.  Why is Kristen Bell not out there solving crimes?  That’s a lot of calories and fat per chip. 

So you’re hosting a fall harvest barbecue with a backwoods gourmet theme heavily influence by your lack of funds and the fact that you ran over a wild animal on your way home from work last night. Frankly, this sounds a bit questionable, but lord knows, I’ve got no room to judge.

Anyway, the meal is shaping up to be a disaster (big shock there). With your first guests set to shuffle over from their neighboring trailers in about fifteen minutes, your found opossum entree still isn’t done (at least, it doesn’t look done – but I’m no opossum roasting expert) and your multi-layer Jell-O jiggler hors d’oeuvres aren’t setting nearly as fast as you’d hoped. You don’t have nearly enough time left to whip up your beloved cheese puff casserole! Whatever will you do for a side dish?

Well, lucky for you, you’ve got me, and a local Walmart. Simply send a significant other/friend/child out for some limited edition Beer Battered Onion Rings Ruffles and you’ll already be halfway to neighborhood acclaim. Seeing as you’ve prepared no other sides, I’d recommend, oh, roughly 1/3 bag per person.

“But Nichol,” I assume you’re asking, “I can’t just serve them bagged. That’s not gourmet! And the only bowl I have big enough for the five bags of chips you estimate I’ll need has snowmen and dancing Santas all over it!”

Holy crap! Chill out! I’ve got you covered. Quit interrupting.

Do you have construction paper? No? Well, quick – call the person you sent out for chips and have them pick some up. I’ll wait.

Okay? Okay. Now, what you want to do next is come up with an appropriate replacement theme for the bowl. You’ve already got the Fall thing going, so let’s work with that. Now’s the time to get creative. I recommend covering Frosty and St. Nick’s faces with lots and lots of paper leaves. If, however, you wish to take things a bit further, maybe shift forward a few weeks with your décor, you could also craft zombie parts for the Santas, so that they appear to be hunting down the poor snowmen, or vice versa.

In either case, that’s not a problem you’ve got on your hands so much as a fantastic crafting opportunity.

“But what about the chips themselves?” You now say because you’re just horribly whiny and out of sorts today. “What makes them classy? And shouldn’t I opt for more of a variety?”

First off, no. Just these. Don’t confuse your guests with five thousand similar looking lesser chip varieties. They deserve better.

Second, these chips happen to be a limited edition, fan-chosen, Walmart exclusive. If that’s not enough for your crowd of snobbish rednecks, tell them this: Beer Battered Onion Rings Ruffles are a one-of-a-kind treat, occupying a blurry middle ground somewhere between Funyuns and their comparatively mundane Sour Cream and Onion Ruffles cousins.

They are the mellow, potato chip equivalent to French’s French Fried Onions, by which I mean the oniony notes are vivid, sweet, and unmistakably Vidalia-like, and the chips taste very much deep fried in some batter you won’t recognize but will wish you could replicate. They offer just a hint of completely unnecessary brown sugar (which I assume is supposed to lend a caramelized taste) and subtle buttermilk undertones. The coating is light, sidestepping both the weird film Funyuns leave behind in one’s mouth and the heaviness one feels by one’s second or third handful of sour cream and onion chips.

The flavor pairs wonderfully with a nice peppery Saison. What? I lost you all there? Fine. These chips pair decently with any cheap beer devoid of fruity elements, wheat, and most other adjectives. Is that what you want to hear? Honestly, why do I even try with you?

Basically, if your guests enjoy onion rings, they will enjoy these chips. And if they are the kind of crowd that enjoys opossum, I’m just going to stereotypically assume they’re onion ring fans. Or at least fans of fried things, which is close enough.

Oh, and I should probably mention that the layers of flavor flatten out to nothing but semi-fake onion as you keep shoveling the Beer Battered Onion Rings Ruffles into your gullet. Make sure to periodically offer up more beer and opossum parts to avoid potential party-killing monotony.

Good Luck!

(Nutrition Facts – 1 ounce/ about 11 chips- 160 calories, 90 calories from fat, 10 grams of fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 2.5 grams polyunsaturated fat, 5 grams monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 170 milligrams of sodium, 200 milligrams of potassium, 15 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 1 gram of sugar, 2 grams of protein, 0% vitamin A, 0% calcium, 8% Vitamin B6, 10% vitamin C, 4% thiamin, 2% phosphorous, 4% magnesium, and 2% iron.)

Other Beer Battered Onion Rings Ruffles reviews:
Fat Guy Food Blog

Item: Beer Battered Onion Rings Ruffles
Price: $2.98 (on sale)
Size: 9 ounces
Purchased at: Walmart
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: No Funyuns film. DIY re-holiday-ification. Buttermilk. Jell-O hors d’oeuvres. Vidalia sweetness. Good addition to the existing faux-fried onion flavor family. Zombie Santas.
Cons: Found opossum entrees. Attempt at caramelized flavor lends a weird barbeque-like edge. Jell-O refusing to cooperate. Descends into an oniony borefest after a few minutes.

Update: Click here to read our Beer Battered Onion Rings Ruffles review

Earlier this year, Frito-Lay held a contest to determine what the next flavor of Ruffles potato chips would be. The flavors that were pitted against each other mostly read like a menu at a truckstop diner and included Sloppy Joe, French Dip, Pepperoni Pizza, Beer Battered Onion Rings, Fried Pickles, Baby Back Ribs, Smothered Chicken Fried Steak, Wasabi Ranch, and Spinach Bacon Dip.

After the voting was completed and the flavor dust settled, Beer Battered Onion Rings ended up victorious and next month they’ll be available as an exclusive flavor at The-Giant-Blue-Superstore-Which-Must-Not-Be-Named.

The Ruffles Beer Battered Onion Rings continues Ruffles foray into unique savory flavors and follows Molten Hot Wings and Loaded Chili & Cheese, which were introduced earlier this year.

Unfortunately, the flavor will only be available at U.S. location of The-Giant-Blue-Superstore-Which-Must-Not-Be-Named.

Hello Foodbeast.

Source: Frito-Lay Snacks Blog