Forget All the Artisanal Cheese: France's Potato Chips Represent Absolutely Sinful.
This past Christmas, I found myself in the French countryside, an area that appeared exuding refined charm. Tasteful, twinkling lights, market stalls overflowing with beautifully vibrant fruit and vegetables, and such an abundance of fromage capable of clogging every mile of the Chunnel with dairy fat. Heaping dishes of shimmering crustaceans on ice glimpsed through misty restaurant glass. Upon seeing a extended but civil line of stylish locals retrieving their craft Christmas cakes, I felt a traitorous thought, that my native city, York, that transforms into a contemporary interpretation of a scene of decadence over the holidays with e-cigarettes tasting of mincemeat and BuzzBallz, might benefit from several tips.
The Sophisticated Front
Yet this entire “art de vivre” affectation is just a refined front – The nation falls victim equally to its basest appetites as the rest of us. Just go into a local *supermarché* and the truth is revealed. The potato chip section is an absolute sink of depravity, crammed with such varieties as *bleu d'Auvergne*, chickpea fritter, beer-braised beef and salted butter tastes. Who eats a fried potato snack flavoured like dairy spread? It is reminiscent of something from those infamous US state fairs where they deep fry sticks of butter. One popular comic stated online they are the ultimate chip in her experience, though she has clearly fallen victim to an instance of regional conditioning – after all, her childhood was in that very region.
A Global Lawlessness
One must acknowledge the crisp flavouring industry across the globe is as lawless and unregulated as major tech firms. There is a refusal to permit the tuber to taste of itself, adorned only rightly by a modest application of seasoning. We have a checkered past with crisp flavours across Britain, particularly during the festive period. 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 famous high-street chain thought “festive fizz and berries” was an appealing flavour in a salty crisp? I had higher hopes from the nation of culinary masters.
What is the logical conclusion? *Pâté*-flavoured snacks? Profiterole? Tobacco-flavoured chips? I must cease, before I accidentally suggest the next big thing.