Muncho Muncho Man

June 2nd, 2011

At the Potato Chip family reunion, the Muncho would arrive late, and he’d probably already be drunk. The other chips would hardly recognize their distant cousin; traceable through the potato crisp side of the family, Munchos are like the unholy offspring of a Frito and the popcorn shrimp batter at Red Lobster. He’d party with the roudier, raunchier Doritos, make passes at the Lays, but in the end, the Muncho a loner. There are no barbecue Munchos to pal around with. Muncho makes being regular, natural— naturelle— somehow more dangerous, more appealing.

It has been said that every chip has its dip. The Ruffle’s got onion, the Tostito’s got salsa. But what was the Muncho meant for? The upturned edges advocate its dipability. Crisp and crunchy yet deceptively airy, the Muncho would collapse under the weight of a bristly spinach dip or a gluey guac. But goad your Munchos into a delightful dessert and suddenly the possibilities are endless. Top them off with a little whipped cream or pass them through a pool of chocolate fondue.

The Muncho goes with everything, and nothing. You are the Muncho. The Muncho is the everychip. It is the last chip you want and yet the only chip you need. It is the breakfast lunch and dinner chip. It’s the chip that will save this sorry planet, if only we’d give it a chance.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t taste all that good.

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1 Comment

Linda
Jun 05, 2011
I beg to differ ..I love this chip especially the now no -where to be found bbq flavor...