Category: Pringles

I have a confession to make: I love eating ketchup on Pringles. I love it to the point where my posture is currently italicized just thinking about it.

Pringles and ketchup is a tradition passed down in my family for generations. I’ve made intricate catsup illustrations on Pringles canvases that would make a Subway sandwich artist‘s cold cut craftsmanship look like a kindergartener’s elbow macaroni picture frame.

Heck, I even have the family record for most ketchup-squelched Pringles stacked and eaten in one bite (thirteen).

So imagine the personal offense I take when people scoff —- if not outright wretch -— at me for sharing this tasty tradition with them. Sure, some rational souls agree that, since ketchup on French fries is good, it should work on Pringles, too. And sure, Ketchup Pringles exist in Canada. But most Americans react like I just sneezed unshaken ketchup water on them.

Thankfully, Pringles seems to be on my side, as two of their five new LOUD Crisps varieties prominently feature the humble tomato. This line of “bolder flavored” and “epically crunchy” crisps also includes Spicy Queso, Super Cheesy Italian, and Fiery Chili Lime, but I’m here to tell you about the ones that will (hopefully) bring glory to the “ketchup and Pringles” name: Mighty Margherita Pizza, which swaps the brand’s traditional “potato-flavored crisp” base for one made of grains and more vegetables than a Biblical children’s show, and Salsa Fiesta, which builds its flavor party on a dance floor of corn flour.

From Ducks to Morphin Power Rangers, “Mighty” things tend to be pretty great, and original Pizza Pringles are my all-time favorites, so I expected big things from Mighty Margherita Pizza.

These new crisps smell just like Pizza Pringles, but their taste is a bit more artisanal. They open with a familiar pop of tomato paste, garlic, and onion, but quickly fade into a more complexly sun-dried and herbal tomato back end. These late flavor notes also smack of tangy basil and spinach, making it feel like Julius Pringle gave a Godfather-esque Kiss of Death to my taste buds. Pleasant at first, this aftertaste becomes peppery and bitter enough over time to make my tongue “sleep with the fishes”—by which I mean, “yearn for a glass of water.”

What really irritates Don Dan about Mighty Margherita Pringles is their supposed “LOUD” crunch. Despite being made with a grain and vegetable blend that gives them a subtle carroty finish, these Pringles LOUD Crisps are no louder nor crunchier than normal Pringles.

Instead, they just feel like the hipster, organically cauliflower-crusted pizza version of original Pizza Pringles. If plain Pizza Pringles are Papa John’s, Domino’s, or Little Caesars, then Mighty Margherita Pizza is Father John Misty, Settlers of Catan, and Little Hannibals —- you know, the guy who crossed the Alps to invade Rome before it was cool.

Oh well, at least they make great hyperbolic hors d’oeuvres when you top ‘em like Lunchables.

Even though Mighty Margherita Pizza was pretty good, I hoped Salsa Fiesta would be better. These crisps’ feverish appearance made me think they’d have more tomato taste, and I was right. While M.M.P. oozes the vine-ripened juiciness of a wise old tomato, Salsa Fiesta strikes fast with the aggressive and salty zest of a sassy vine-dropout.

This punchy tomato taste fades quickly into notes of tongue-prickling red onion and mouth-watering green chile. On their own, these flavors might be spicy, but their burn is tempered by Salsa Fiesta’s delightful aftertaste of roasted corn and black bean dip. It’s a very tasty re-creation of the “tortilla chips and salsa” restaurant ritual, but it’s also over far too soon, as the airy crisps completely dissolve into the ethereal Pringles beyond before I can say “holy frijoles!”

And even though a mild salsa makes a great pairing for these zippy Salsa Fiesta Pringles, their fragile paraboloid slopes tend to crack under the pressure. Be sure to have a platoon of rescue chips handy to fish these fallen chips out of their juicy graves.

Overall, if you’re a fan of tomatoes ‘n’ taters like me, the respective veggie and corn bases of Mighty Margherita Pizza and Salsa Fiesta will bring starchy satisfaction to your catsup-coated carb cravings. The sweet ‘n’ tangy sauciness and contemplative herbs of Mighty Margherita Pizza make for a great evening snack, while the peppery jabs of Salsa Fiesta are perfect for a bustling party.

But if you hate tomatoes and oxymoronically quiet “LOUD” Crisps, you might want to pass these up for something with more bulk —- or extreme nacho cheese.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have two new Pringles flavors to shamelessly slather with Heinz.

(Nutrition Facts – 14 crisps – Mighty Margherita Pizza – 140 calories, 60 calories from fat, 7 grams of fat, 2 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 200 milligrams of sodium, 18 grams of carbohydrates, less than 1 gram of fiber, 2 grams of sugar, and 2 grams of protein. Salsa Fiesta – 140 calories, 60 calories from fat, 8 grams of fat, 2 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 310 milligrams of sodium, 18 grams of carbohydrates, less than 1 gram of fiber, 1 gram of sugar, and 2 grams of protein.)

Purchased Price: $1.40 each
Size: 5.1 oz. can (Mighty Margherita Pizza)
Size: 5.4 oz. can (Salsa Fiesta)
Purchased at: Meijer
Rating: 7 out of 10 (Mighty Margherita Pizza)
Rating: 8 out of 10 (Salsa Fiesta)
Pros: The savory French kiss of a Pringles Mafioso. The taste bud-smacking sadism of juvenile salsa delinquents. Elegantly stacking Pringles with feta and Chipotles. Ancient pizza elephant warfare.
Cons: Crunching not with a bang, but with a whimper. Herbs that overstay their welcome. Crisps more fragile than a leg lamp. Un-elegantly cramming a stack of 13 Pringles and ketchup into my mouth.

I imagine putting together a Taco Bell Crunchwrap Supreme is like brain surgery when compared with the effort it takes to make a cheesy quesadilla. Making one is easier than typing qasadia quasadila quesadila quesadea quesadilla for a first time speller of the word. It involves these simple steps: warm up a soft tortilla in a skillet, sprinkle on a lot of cheese, wait for cheese to melt, fold tortilla in half, and eat.

But Pringles, the Master of Potato Flake Compression, has given us a much simpler way to experience the simple dish — Cheesy Quesadilla Pringles.

It’s not a new flavor, it originally came out years ago, but it hasn’t been on shelves for a while and is currently exclusive to Walgreens. So you can pick up a can while you’re picking up your prescription for something that only you and your doctor know about. Oh, and don’t forget to take your Walgreens Balance Rewards Card. This paragraph was not brought to you by Walgreens at the corner happy & healthy.

The flavor of these crisps is not what I would consider bold or cheese quesadilla-like. There’s a light cheesiness with an equally light pepperiness. I know what these are supposed to taste like, but it doesn’t fire my neurons in a way that makes me think cheesy quesadilla. Instead, all I can think about is watered down chile con queso.

Maybe the flavors are mild because Pringles wanted to recreate the flavor dampening abilities of soft tortillas. Or maybe the seasoning robot in the Pringles factory was set to level 4 by accident.

Overall, Cheesy Quesadilla Pringles are adequate. I don’t think it’s one of those “accidentally eat more than half a can in one sitting” flavors, like sour cream and onion or original. I guess what I’m trying to say is if you see it while picking up your medication at Walgreens, it’s probably not worth a try.

Disclosure: I received a free sample from Pringles in return for an honest review. Receiving the sample did not influence my review.

Purchased Price: FREE
Size: 5.96 oz can
Purchased at: Available at Walgreens
Rating: 5 out of 10
Nutrition Facts: (1 ounce) 150 calories, 80 calories from fat, 9 grams of fat, 2.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 170 milligrams of sodium, 16 grams of carbohydrates, less than 1 gram of fiber, less than 1 gram of sugar, and 1 gram of protein.

It’s been some time since I hung with Julius Pringles. I missed him. That mustachioed egg man may have gone through image makeovers throughout the years, but his tennis ball can-packed product has remained the same – kinda boring, kinda cardboardy, but undoubtedly addictive.

Pringles has had an Oreo-like run of flavors, but none really jumped out at me until I saw they had turned my favorite free mall food court sample into a chip — Bourbon Barbecue Chicken.

I’ve never walked though my mall’s food court without a friendly peddler offering me a free bite of bourbon chicken. Sometimes the sample even convinces me to buy a plate, so why not try the chip version?

So, did Pringles nail the flavor?

No, they basically re-purposed their BBQ flavor.

Once you pop, you get the familiar BBQ Pringles smell. Once you bite in, you get an instant vinegary/soy sauce-like tang which turns into a smoky BBQ flavor. It’s a pretty intense initial flavor, but it fades quickly. It’s actually weird; they’re like Gobstopper chips – multiple flavors in layers. Once the chip’s coating dissipates, it’s just a BBQ Pringle.

Pringles claims that once I pop I won’t be able to stop. But I stopped. I had to; in fear I wouldn’t have any water left in my body. These have a little spicy kick to them. That coupled with the fact they are really salty leaves you with almost immediate dry mouth. One can say I only ate about 2 fingers worth of these Bourbon baked beauties, Sinatra-style.

I initially thought the word “chicken” seemed completely unnecessary. You’d never know these were chicken flavored as you’re eating them, but about three minutes after I ate that handful of “crisps,” my mouth tasted like I had eaten BBQ chicken. It brought back memories of hanging by my friend’s pool and eating a chicken leg from the grill. So that aftertaste was spot on as far as the “chicken” goes.

As far as “bourbon” flavor? I mean, I’ve had BBQ sauces that were made from whiskey, and it’s never really been pronounced. I tried to convince myself that I did get a very quick taste of bourbon when I was eating these, but if I did it was just for a split second.

They don’t taste like the aforementioned bourbon chicken from the mall food court, which was disappointing. To be fair though, I haven’t had it in a while. I even bypassed the free sample the last time I was there. That’s what we call self control, ladies and gentlemen.

I guess I’d say these are slightly better than regular BBQ Pringles if only for that brief difference on first taste, and the chicken-y aftertaste. If I’m being honest, BBQ is not the Pringles I’d usually go for. I’ve always preferred their sour cream and onion. Is that a controversial opinion? I have to live up to my “badboy” image.

So, if you’re in the mood for a BBQ Pringle, but aren’t near a Target, you can make do with the old standard. If you’re feeling extra rowdy, pair them with a nice glass of bourbon because… well, you don’t need an excuse for that. You work hard.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 ounce – 150 calories, 9 grams of fat, 3 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 210 milligrams of sodium, 0 milligrams of potassium, 16 grams of carbohydrates,1 gram of dietary fiber, 1 gram of sugar, and 1 gram of protein.)

Item: Pringles Exclusive Flavor Bourbon Barbecue Chicken
Purchased Price: $1.33
Size: 6 oz. can
Purchased at: Target
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Intense initial flavor, good Pringle crisp, Chicken aftertaste, Julius Pringles’ modern makeover, Summer BBQ déjà-vu, Free samples, My badboy image.
Cons: Not much difference from plain BBQ, People who say “Tar-jhey,” Dehydrating, Not really knowing the difference between Bourbon and Whiskey… because Sinatra drank Whiskey.