Comfort food. The chink in my armour. Ambrosia. This is how I would describe my favourite snack. Pringles has that ‘Once you pop, U can’t stop’ drug effect. With just the right amount of MSG and artificial flavouring, a can of Pringles makes me want to relish each chip but down a whole can at the same time. Yes, Pringles brings the little crazy out of me. A texture pleasant to the palate, every chip identical to the next, it is the only sealed chips in a can that tickles my fancy. FYI my favourite flavour by far is Sour Cream and Onion and it’s a great test of my tenacity to not to polish the whole can off in under 24 hours.
Pringles chips cannot be labelled officially as potato chips because it actually only contains around 40% potato, as a 2008 court case in London divulged. Other components include wheat, rice and corn. Personally, it is my must have travelling companion, fodder for the munchies on long airplane trips and airport waits. Pringles sold everywhere tasted the same, as uniform as the chips themselves, until the turn of the millennium, when a sinister Pringle variant came in to take my much beloved snack on the store shelves. They were priced insidiously cheap undoubtedly to mask their true objectives.
These non-genuine stand-ins were made in Malaysia and exported to various Asian Pacific countries. Although they are stamped with the iconic Pringles moustached man, they are nothing like the Pringles I knew and loved in the 90s. As I explain how the two are different, I’d like you to question why we Asians are put through such second-rate products and what went through the minds of the market research imbeciles when authorizing this miserable variant.
 |
| The original Pringles on the Left and its diminutive version on the right. |
In the picture above I have placed side by side the two Pringles. Luckily they still sell the original imported version but at twice the price in fancier supermarkets such as Cold Storage and Jaya Grocer. First off is the size of the can and the chip itself. Smaller chips for Asians? Is this racial stereotyping at play? I can barely squeeze my hands into the can. That would force me to tip over the can to get at the chips at the bottom, toppling the perfectly stacked chips and increasing the incidents of chip chippings. Please pardon my first world problem.
Secondly, the shape. Pringles was the originator of the saddle horse shaped chip. It is an oval disc curved across two axes. It is shaped that way so they can maximize the space in a can and not get all disarrayed when the can gets shaken. The Malaysian chip only features a single curve on the chip. Why can’t it be a saddle horse as well? I rather my Pringles to in the shape my tongue can ride on, if you know what I mean.
Third is the taste. Malaysian chips feature more rice content than the original recipe in which corn I believe is more prevalent. While the texture is not much of an issue, the creators got the taste wrong. I’m not one of those naturalist, where everything created in the lab is demonized and an alphabet soup of artificial chemicals are like its summoning potion. However the flavours on the Malaysian made product just don’t match up to the original, sour cream to sour cream and basically all the other flavours too. Imagine driving a roaring Ferrari for so long then downgrading to a sputtering MyVi. The taste is definitely not as titillating or as addictive. A healthier version? I doubt it.
I hope that Pringles HQ will realise the folly of its wayward Asian regional office and phase out the paltry version of chips. Otherwise future generations may never remember the way it used to be. Allow us the chance to savour the best potato-based chip snack in the world.
No comments:
Post a Comment