Forget The World of Handcrafted Cheese: French Crisps Represent Absolutely Sinful.
Over the holidays, I spent time in France, which was displaying impeccable manners. Elegant, shimmering illuminations, village market booths piled high with remarkably pristine fruit and vegetables, and such an abundance of fromage that could line the entire Channel Tunnel with arterial plaque. Heaping dishes of shimmering crustaceans atop ice beds glimpsed through misty restaurant glass. Upon seeing a lengthy yet well-mannered procession of elegant residents collecting their artisanal *Bûche de Noël*, I thought, disloyally, that my place of origin, York, that transforms into a present-day version of Hogarth’s Gin Lane at this time of year featuring vape pens in festive pie flavours and BuzzBallz, could learn some pointers.
The Sophisticated Front
But this entire “art de vivre” affectation is merely an elegant facade – The nation succumbs just as easily to its lowest desires similar to everywhere else. Just go into a local *supermarché* to witness it. The crisp aisle constitutes a temple of indulgence, stacked with the likes of Roquefort, spiced bean patty, beer-braised beef and *beurre salé* tastes. Who eats butter crisps? It’s like a product found at those infamous American fairs where they submerge butter patties in hot oil. A certain comedian stated online they’re the best crisps she’s ever tasted, though she has clearly succumbed to a form of local propaganda – her formative years were in Brittany.
International Unregulation
One must acknowledge the world of potato chip seasoning across the globe operates with as few rules as Silicon Valley. No one will let potato be potato, enhanced only as necessary with just a dignified dusting of salt. Our own nation possesses a checkered past regarding chip varieties across Britain, particularly during the festive period. Recently, it should be remembered, gave us gingerbread Doritos and special-release pastry-and-meat potato snacks. Let us also recall the occasion when a major retailer deemed “sparkling wine and seasonal fruit” constituted a desirable taste on a potato chip? I expected more of the land of Escoffier.
What next? Goose liver potato chips? Profiterole? Gauloises? I must cease, before I accidentally suggest the next big thing.
