Look Past All the Handcrafted Cheese: French Crisps Represent Absolutely Sinful.
I recently was staying in the French countryside, a place that seemed exuding refined charm. Discreet, sparkling decorations, village market booths stacked with beautifully vibrant produce, and enough cheeses that could line every mile of the Chunnel with cholesterol. Heaping dishes of lustrous seafood on ice seen through fogged brasserie windows. Upon seeing a long but orderly line of well-dressed citizens collecting their artisanal *Bûche de Noël*, I mused, with some guilt, that my home town, York, which becomes a modern reimagining of a tableau of excess over the holidays featuring mince-pie flavoured vapes and ready-to-drink concoctions, might benefit from some pointers.
A Refined Veneer
But this entire “art de vivre” business proves to be a polished mask – The nation falls victim equally to its basest appetites similar to everywhere else. Just go into a supermarket and the truth is revealed. The potato chip section stands as a monument to decadence, lined with such varieties as Roquefort, chickpea fritter, *carbonade flamande* and salted butter flavours. Who eats chips that taste of butter? It is reminiscent of a product found at those infamous midway festivals where they fry solid butter in batter. An entertainer recently claimed they’re the best crisps she’s ever tasted, however she has undoubtedly fallen victim to some kind of Breton brainwashing – her formative years were in *Bretagne*.
International Unregulation
One must acknowledge the snack flavour business across the globe operates with as few rules as Silicon Valley. Nobody seems willing to allow the humble spud to shine on its own, adorned only rightly with just a dignified dusting of salt. The UK boasts a dark history with crisp flavours in the UK, particularly during the festive period. Not long ago, it should be remembered, bestowed upon us festive-spiced tortilla chips and special-release pastry-and-meat potato snacks. Let us also recall the instance where a famous high-street chain deemed “festive fizz and berries” made for a good idea on a potato chip? But I thought better of the land of Escoffier.
What next? Goose liver potato chips? Profiterole? Gauloises? I must cease, before I accidentally suggest the next big thing.
