Goddamn, I really wanted to like you. I wanted to praise you to Fatboy Slim’s “Praise You” and tell all my friends how good you were. I patiently waited to open up your bag as you already had me at “Kettle Cooked.” You had me at KETTLE COOKED dammit!!! I love the crunch that quickly shatters into delicious crumbles. Being kettle cooked is the only way to make a potato do that.

I also love wasabi flavored snacks, including that hard to find Lindt chocolate bar. Akin to a big, boisterous and caring aunt who keeps telling you to eat more because you’re so skinny (but you’re not) or how much of a grown man you look in your tie (even in a bolo tie?), wasabi is loud and imposing. It makes its presence known as your nasal flares slightly then tempers down to a sweet cooing.

As for ginger, I love all forms of it except the ubiquitous pickled stuff that comes with sushi. I find the shades that range from the opaque hues of a cadaver to the neon rose on a Hypercolor t-shirt are as awful as the sometimes soapy unpleasant taste pickled ginger imparts. However, I was excited because the vinegary-pickled ginger could play off well as an Asian-tinged Salt & Vinegar chip.

So what went wrong? Was it my high expectations? Was it the excitement of another Lay’s Do Us a Flavor competition? Was it the bourbons and binge viewings of Community? Either way, I was let down in a manner that rivaled the time when my father told the family that my younger brother was his favorite son. Shades of Thanos’ family, I will seek my revenge…eventually.

The flavor, inspired by Meneko Springer McBeth, makes sense and probably on Earth-616, the flavor profile would be as normal as sour cream and onion. A quick read-through of her bio shows she’s as normal as anyone: a married registered nurse with three daughters (presumably cute and well-mannered). She has an “affinity for spicy flavors” and loves sushi. Her fun fact is that “The Clearance Queen” is her nickname because she always hunts down the best bargains. She sounds like someone I could ask the time and not be scared of being maced or threatened with undeserved violence involving an ice pick.

Letting me down is one thing, but why let down nice and normal Meneko Springer McBeth who just wants to find good bargains? Is being budget conscious enough to damn an innocent soul, Lay’s?

I should have known it when I opened the bag, only to smell the roasty and pleasantly fried scent of kettle chips. Don’t misunderstand me, the chips smelled great. But when you’re saying there’s wasabi and it was bereft of the pungent horseradishy blast…well, that let me down a lot. I can only compare it to smelling a grilled thick cut steak with pieces of garlic embedded and you can’t smell any of the aromatics.

If that wasn’t sad enough, besides being seen with your nose in a bag of chips as if you were sniffing a fine cognac, the chips tasted just mundane. I was also glad I bought the small convenience store version because I would likely feed the rest to the ducks and they would get hyperlipidemia.

The bag promised wasabi and ginger, but the wasabi was so faint and the ginger was non-existent. The only prevalent taste I could discern was a soy sauce flavor and the onion powder.

I ate a handful Cookie Monster-style to see if the flavors would be stronger. It wasn’t and all I tasted initially was the ghostly vinegar kick that was more like a shuffle. The wasabi was too lazy to even nod a “hey” to me and I believe a thousand Japanese mobsters cut off their index fingers in shame.

The chips did have a well-rounded saltiness to them and the soy sauce gave off a sweetness that channeled the highly sought umami factor. I’m so depressed now that I think I’m just filling up words in this review so it looks like I am actually working instead of being as lazy as the wasabi and ginger in these chips.

I don’t know what Meneko Springer McBeth did to make Lay’s so angry. For God’s sakes, she even reported that she loves spicy foods and all they could eke out was something as spicy as Mr. Rogers eating a banana. I’m torn because I want this flavor to exist, but I don’t want it to win because of the flat flavor Lay’s has given it.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 oz/about 18 chips – 150 calories, 8 grams of total fat, 1 gram of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 140 milligrams of sodium, 350 milligrams of potassium, 17 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 2 grams of sugar, and 2 grams of protein.)

Item: Lay’s Kettle Cooked Wasabi Ginger Potato Chips
Purchased Price: $1.49
Size: 2 7/8 oz bag
Purchased at: RaceTrac
Rating: 4 out of 10
Pros: The texture is really nice, crisp with that audible crunch. The sweetness of the soy sauce is nice. Nurses, be kind to them cause’ they work hard and aren’t given a lot of credit, yo. The chips are well seasoned, the goldilocks zone of salt. Earth-616.
Cons: The wasabi couldn’t deliver because it was faint. The ginger couldn’t stand up because it was just as faint. The onion powder and soy sauce overwhelmed the chip. Earth-8101.

In the world of potato chips, the bright yellow bag of Lay’s potato chips is stamped permanently in my Potato Chip List of Glory. How one improves on permanence? I don’t know.

Of course, every new product Lay’s rolls out presents a new threat to my ardor: What if I eat a new kind and find myself unsatisfied? It isn’t realistic to expect perfection from every product…is it? Should I just stick with the classic fried chip? Am I going to give up Lay’s if I have a negative experience? If I give them up, where will I go when I have a chip craving? What does it all mean for my future of chip eating?!?!

I’m not sure, but I do know that a) the arrival of Popchips has been threatening to disturb the order of Lay’s potato chip glory on the shelves lately and thus b) Lay’s deserves its day to try and stand up for itself in this puffed-chip world. It was for this very reason that I pushed my anxiety aside and picked up the Lay’s Air Pops, determined to see if my steadfast chip could hold its own in these shifting, puffy-chip times.

Air Pops supposedly come in Sour Cream and Onion and Barbecue flavors. This time, the Fates conspired against me and I was left with the Original as my only option, a shame as I would’ve swooned like a melodramatic Shakespeare character over a bag of Sour Cream and Onion, but I figured it was best to try the Original first as it would prove whether or not Lay’s could set a solid foundation for its poppable round crisps. Plus, it saved me a lot of embarrassment that would’ve resulted from swooning in public.

Having been raised on the Original Lay’s, I like my chips thin, crispy, and with a salinity that could compete with the sodium levels of the Dead Sea. At the same time, none of this should take away the potato flavor. Popping open the bag, I’m greeted with the smell of potato and salt, a good foresight considering that’s all I want to taste.

And these don’t disappoint. Salty, crispy, potato-y, these have all the qualifying pillars that build a Potato Chip Parthenon on the acropolis of Greatness. They’re definitely inspired by the “Popchips” all those youngsters are talking about. Now, if you’ve yet to dip your toe in the Popchips craze, let me explain: a Popchip is a potato pellet (yes, “potato pellet”) that, according to an oldie clip of Marc Summers, has been vacuumized and puffed out into a round, crispy disc.

Flavor and texture-wise, I would describe Popchips as a round, potato-enhanced Bugle. One of the troubles I sometimes encounter with a Popchip is that they have a grain that can come across sharp against my mouth, almost as if I were subjecting myself to eating potato-flavored dry polenta. I was happy to discover the Lay’s version has a more Pringles-like grain that goes down smoother. That, paired with the fact that they’re doused with that perfect, cheap, grainy Lay’s table salt, gives them high marks all around.

There are many things that bring me great joy: the wrinkly faces of English Bulldogs, crazy straws, and Scottish kilts. While I’ve never taken the time to number them, resting somewhere at the top of the list would have to be finding the crumbly bits of chip at the bottom of the bag. You know what I’m talking about. Those discarded, semi-damaged remnants of potato flake and salt that, when tipped out of their pointed fissure in the corner of the aluminum bag, congeal with the perfect ratio of sodium chloride to potato. I’m happy to say that, for all you chip dust lovers, Lay’s doesn’t deny you here. Because the bag had been slightly crushed on the trek home (curse you, closing subway door!), a bounty of dusty booty awaited me as I reached the end of solid chippery, allowing me to tilt the bag and consume my reward. Ah. Chip satisfaction.

As seen with yo-yos, spandex, and roller skates, trends can meander and shift with no rhyme or reason, and it’s no different in the world of chips, which can go from 3-D to taco-fied in a matter of months. However, this puffed chip craze seems to be sustaining itself, having already expanded to everything from tortillas to lentils, and I, for one, am glad Lay’s has jumped in the ring. Their rendition is a solid one, done with a fearlessly salty hand and a quality potato taste while offering a slightly smoother texture than Popchips, so make room in the pantry. Lay’s has entered the puffed chips game.

(Nutrition Facts – 19 crisps – 120 calories, 40 calories from fat, 4 grams of fat, 0.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 190 milligrams of sodium, 80 milligrams of potassium, 19 grams of carbohydrates, less than 1 gram of fiber, 0 grams of sugar, and 1 gram of protein.)

Item: Lay’s Air Pops Original Potato Chips
Purchased Price: $2.99
Size: 3 oz. bag
Purchased at: Duane Reade
Rating: 8 out of 10
Pros: Nice balance of salt and potato. Similar to a slightly airy Pringle. Comes in Barbecue and Sour Cream and Onion. Plenty of crumbs. Doesn’t require endorsements from pop icons to make them taste good. Crazy straws. Wrinkly bulldog faces.
Cons: Only finding the Original when you really want the Sour Cream and Onion. May be too salty for some. Kinda sorta copying Popchips and, therefore, could be accused of lacking originality. “Potato pellet.” Getting crushed by subway doors.