The Oberlin Review
<< Front page Arts March 14, 2008

Crunch & Munch

Legend has it that on August 24, 1853 at the Moon’s Lake House in Saratoga Springs, NY, a plate of fried potatoes, marinating in hot greasy fats and their own liquids, was set before Cornelius Vanderbilt. 

The railroad tycoon overturned the dish with a flick of his old-man hand. “They’re fat,” he said, “and soggy.” 

Chef George Crum sliced the potatoes paper thin, stir-fried them and presented them again to a delighted Vanderbilt. The potato chip was born.  

Years later, these human palm-sized, fried, baked or puffed gems come in many incarnations, from potato to tortilla to corn to vegetable to fruit. Unless you’ve skimmed them straight from the deep-fryer basket, you probably buy them nestled in colorful plastic bags pumped full of magical, preservative nitrogen gas. 

They huddle together upon grocery shelves, embracing their diverse range of colors, types and flavors like the Village People. They are smooth, puffy and attractive, and some people would invariably be lying if they said they didn’t want to give their bags of chips a hug from time to time. 

Sure, they have sassy, ultra-masculine fronts with their bright bags, reminiscent of extreme sports garb as they blast their names in hyper-energetic, italicized fonts as if to proclaim to the browsing shopper, “Pick me, a-hole!” But these are just fronts for the culinary genius within: the subtle flavors; the attention to crisp, sharp texture; the charmingly uneven texture of an unbroken tortilla chip.

Thirty-some years ago, a group of chip enthusiasts founded a Chip Club here at Oberlin College, dedicated to indulging in and reviewing the item. Unfortunately, the club died along with disco and left college students to eat chips weekly or daily without thought, without appreciation or even proper regard for the act.

The newly reinstituted Chip Club is offering an official “Chip Challenge” to the student body of Oberlin College: will you continue the dismissal of chips as mere snacks or complements, or embrace that burning sensation that can only be felt when an entire bag of Salt & Vinegar Kettle Chips is consumed in a single sitting?

The new Chip Club will offer reviews and advice in future editions of the Review in the hopes of beginning a long and fruitful dialogue on the merits of this wonderfood.


 
 
   

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