Look Past The World of Artisanal Fromage: French Potato Chips Are Absolutely Decadent.
This past Christmas, I spent time in the French countryside, a place that seemed on its best behaviour. Elegant, shimmering illuminations, market stalls overflowing with beautifully vibrant fruit and vegetables, and a vast array of cheeses capable of clogging the whole Eurotunnel with dairy fat. Heaping dishes of glistening shellfish on ice seen through misty restaurant glass. As I watched a lengthy yet well-mannered line of well-dressed citizens collecting their craft Christmas cakes, I mused, with some guilt, that my place of origin, York, which turns into a contemporary interpretation of a scene of decadence over the holidays complete with e-cigarettes tasting of mincemeat and pre-mixed cocktails, would do well to absorb a few lessons.
The Elegant Facade
Yet every bit of “art de vivre” affectation proves to be a polished mask – The country is as prey to its lowest desires like any other place. Simply step inside any grocery store to witness it. The crisp aisle is an absolute sink of depravity, stacked with flavours including *bleu d'Auvergne*, chickpea fritter, beer-braised beef and salted butter profiles. Who eats butter crisps? It is reminiscent of a product found at one of those American fairs where they submerge butter patties in hot oil. An entertainer stated online they are the ultimate chip in her experience, though she has clearly been influenced by some kind of Breton brainwashing – after all, her childhood was in *Bretagne*.
Worldwide Anarchy
I know the world of potato chip seasoning worldwide is just as anarchic as major tech firms. No one will permit the tuber to taste of itself, adorned only rightly with just a dignified dusting of salt. We have a dubious legacy when it comes to snack tastes across Britain, especially at this time of year. Not long ago, after all, bestowed upon us Christmas-cake flavoured crisps and limited-edition Beef Wellington Walkers. Furthermore, who can erase the memory of the instance where a well-known shop believed “sparkling wine and seasonal fruit” constituted a desirable taste on a potato chip? I had higher hopes of the land of Escoffier.
What next? Goose liver potato chips? Profiterole? Tobacco-flavoured chips? I should stop, I’m only giving them ideas.
