Ranking: Potato Chips

Well, now...that's enough of the heavy stuff for a bit, eh? Let's take a break. Let's dodge the political spit wads, hate mail, and debates about lipstick...and let's get down and dirty and talk about something of truly monumental importance: junk food.

Like every youngster raised in the 80s/90s, I had a serious craving for snacks. I sucked down my fair share of Little Debbie snack cakes, Dr. Peppers, and Kit Kats...but a special place in my heart was always reserved for unnaturally-colored magnificence of the potato chip aisle. With the help of my family, I consumed my share of chips over the years, and by college considered myself something of a connoisseur. It was about that time, in a conversation with my two best friends, that I came to the realization that, in my universe, 5 chips stood above the rest. I named them "The Pentavaret" and spent the rest of my College/Grad School/Bachelor days advocating for these snacks...by buying and consuming as many of them as I could.

But then, thanks be to God, came marriage. And the woman I love soon realized that there was a pretty good chance that my blood was the consistency of Silly Putty. And so, these 5 wonderful brothers-in-arms who once comprised a personal food group have been reduced to yearly (if that) indulgences. I don't miss them as much as you might think. They are like those friends from way back that you know might have killed you...but you still find yourself drawn to them (and to the half-man-half-goat you used to be.) But I still miss them. So here...for nostalgia's sake...is the "Pentavaret" in all of its glory.

5. Bacon and Cheddar Tato Skins

The diabolical Keebler elves rolled out their latest weapon to fatten, and thus conquer America in 1987. It was their most effective weapon against me, and was timed perfectly for the height of my junk-food consuming abilities. Between it and the Fudge Stripe cookie...our house lined the pockets of many a rich elf. This chip-overlord was the "Tato Skin." The Tato Skin still comes in three flavors, but it is the powdered-cheesy goodness teamed with the nothing-less-than-devine power of bacon that blows away the Sour Cream and Chive and (don't even waste my time here) Plain versions of the chip. The novelty of the chip was the one-side-darker technology that the bag told you was the "skin." (Yes...and by "skin," they mean a monosodiuglutenate #4 instead of monosodiuglutinate #3.) The reason this chip is ranked so low on the totem pole is because it is now nearly impossible to find. A trip to http://www.tatoskins.com/ will direct you to the "Inventure Group," a company still trying to keep up the brand by marketing them alongside such geographically-confused industry juggernaunts as "Bob's Texas Style Sweet Maui Onion Potato Chips." I haven't seen them in years...and if I did, I imagine it would be like a re-creation of that scene in "The Natural" when Roy Hobbs finally talks to Glenn Close after all those years and she says: "I used to look for you in crowds. One day...I guess I just stopped looking." You are Roy Hobbs, Tato Skins. I miss you...and you might have been the best that ever was. Oh...yeah...one other thing...I didn't have your baby.

4. Chili Cheese Fritos

Fritos are good, Ranch Fritos are better, but this unique incarnation of Frito takes the cake. Packaged in a deceptively small, but densely packed bag...the only "problem" with Chili Cheese Fritos in how easy it is to talk yourself into taking down an entire bag. And that, friends, is like a SubPrime Mortgage or buying a St. Bernard puppy: File it under "It sure seemed like a good idea at the time." The closest thing I can compare it to would be swallowing two momma badgers whole after separating them from their young. Not pretty. On the plus side, they work extremely well in the most classic of Frito applications including application on top of chili, in the middle of burritos, and (my personal favorite) smashed and melted into a grilled cheese sandwhich. Yes...I'm still alive. Yes...I do realize that it's a miracle.

3. Cheddar and Sour Cream Ruffles

Technically called "Cheddar 'N Sour Cream Ruffles," but every time I use the big capital "N," the little English Teacher inside me dies a little. I'm usually not a big fan of "regular" potato chips, especially in their more traditional flavors. The over-sweet potato chip BBQ flavor makes me a bit queasy and the generic "Sour Cream and Onion" chips just take like onion salt to me. But these beauties who, again, conveniently came on the scene during my prepubescent years, brought me back to the basics. I can remember at one point saying something to the effect of: "I would eat an asbestos tile if it were covered in that stuff." Unfortunately, the good folks at Ruffles gave me that chance a few years back by producing the "Baked" version of this chip. 21st Century Semi-Healthy/Getting Older/Broccoli-Eating Scott tried them a few years back and nearly broke into tears because the age-old adage was proven right once again: put all the peanut butter you want on it, folks...it's still celery.

2. Cool Ranch Doritos
I don't remember exactly when it was in the 80's, but I do remember the sheer novelty of a new flavor of Doritos. We had only previously known the joy of regular old Doritos and their processed cheesy goodness...but suddenly, out of nowhere, the FritoLay company came up with a whole new mega-salt/chemical concoction to put on their chips known as "Cool Ranch." I would never eat regular (now "Nacho Cheese"--oh, so that's what that was...) Doritos ever again. Well...OK...so that's not true, but I definitely preferred "Cool Ranch." In true American style, Doritos has now expanded to include 8,543,209 flavors including--not joking--"Sweet Chili Heat" and an oh-so-square "Ranch" variety that gets sand kicked in its face at the beach...but the 2nd incarnation remains the king in my books. They even tried a marketing scheme of calling it "Cooler Ranch" (along with "Nacho Cheesier") a while back. Cooler...yeah, right. Short of throwing a few dashes of Eye of Fonzie in there, how is that possible? Come on. Oh...and in another interesting experiment, 21st Century Healthy/Boring/Trying to Living Longer Scott also tried the baked variety of these and...yeah. The baked "corn chips" sucked every last drop of saliva out of my mouth like some mutant sponge. Thanks, FritoLay, but I'd rather die of the fat.

Editorial note: For the entire previous paragraph, I kept wanting to put "Doritoes," but that...I think...is the word for the lower digits of someone named Dorothy. And I don't care what you put on those, I ain't eatin' them.

1. Crunchy Cheddar Cheese Cheetos
I can not emphasize the importance of the "Crunchy" part enough. Keep the puffs, you patsies...they're packing peanuts. Trust me, they are. And don't give me the twists, either...take a side on the Crunchy/Puffy debate, flip-floppers. And the baked? Oh...come on, people. Are we learning nothing here? Baking chips is like throwing holy water on a vampire, OK? And as for the "Flaming Hot" variety...come on...they're not Hotos, people...they're Cheetos. This, friends, is the Elvis of snacks...bow to the king. From the Chernobyl-yellow color to the surprising density of them...they reign supreme. I have recently discovered the pure joy of putting Cheetos into a sandwich. Cramming cheetos into a regular turkey sandwich on white is roughly the same as introducing a monkey to Session meeting. Not only is it unexpected, unorthodox, and borderline insane...but you end up wondering how you ever did without it. On top of that, they include my favorite chip side-effect,"Cheeto-hands," the wonderful cheesy residue left on your fingers that is impossible to wash off. For those who are not picky about hygiene, this allows for continued "snacking" for the rest of the day. And so, for these reasons and many more, the Cheeto rules the Pentavaret.

And now...with that...I'm hungry. I will now be going to the store where I will wander the aisle gently calling out for Tato Skins. Please, whatever you do, don't tell Julie.