The potato chip that changed my life.

Avid readers of this blog might recall my ode to the sausage. A spur of the moment tribute to that cholesterol laden, artery clogging, culinary masterpiece. Then again, there may not be anyone that falls into the "avid reader" category. So, then, I am set to tell the tale of the most amazing potato chip I have ever eaten.

Tuesday, on the way to Elmhurst. Stopped at tollway oasis to grab a bag of chips. Doritos. Lunch was average.

Wednesday, repeating routine. Lays Barbecue. Always a favorite.

Thursday, just as I was beginning to succumb to my fate of another lunch with average chips, it happened. I had the bag of Lays Ruffles Cheddar and Sour Cream in my hand. That rack by the register makes it easy for you to avoid going to the back of the store where the real chip section was. I ventured anyway. Tucked away on the bottom shelf, in the far corner, were a few bags of Kettle Brand Potato Chips. I was fully aware of the "Kettle Cooked" phenomenon that has invaded the market. Crunchier, healthier, "Kettle Cooked" just sounds too cool to pass up. I set down the Ruffles. It would be a turning point in my life.

I selected the Honey Dijon flavor, as I have a secret affinity for the whole Honey Mustard thing. I got back into my car and headed south. The entire way, the bag of chips was calling to me. But it was only 8:45 in the morning. Is there a time rule on chips? Can you have a few with your Egg McMuffin? I wasn't about to find out and spoil my lunch. I drove on.

At approximately 11:45, I broke for lunch. Pickle first, half my sandwich next, it's a routine I can't ignore. Then I opened the bag of chips. To say that the first bite was a tantalizing explosion of crunchiness and sweetness would do no justice to the moment. Chip after chip, the experience grew exponentially until I thought that no experience in my life had ever given me this much pleasure. I broke my cardinal rule of lunch sins that day: I finished the bag before I finished my sandwich. I had none to leave the final taste in my mouth as I returned to work. I had none to savor on the way home. I was left to keep the bag for a few deep inhales. Sort of like walking into a bakery just to enjoy the smells.

So it was, that fateful Thursday, that I would fully embrace the "Kettle Cooked" era. I went to the Jewel to buy a more plentiful sized package, and even as I reached the chip aisle, I was contemplating where I would stash my horde away from the bottomless pits that were my teenagers. To my utter disbelief and horror, there was no Honey Dijon flavor. My life was over. So I did the next best thing. I grabbed the Honey Barbecue flavor instead. It's the sacrifices we make that define us as human beings. That and the brand of chips we eat.