Clipsy Hot Dog

‘The Ventrilocrisp was tickled by the image of the chubby, mustard-splattered pink frankfurter on this packet, and harboured secret hopes for a potent weiner flavour.’

This is exactly what it looks like: a hot dog flavoured crisp in the shape of a slender little french fry. Ha ha, the Ventrilocrisp gives a wry smile and conspiratorial nod to this droll conflation of fast foods. Very good, Clipsy. But can you deliver the knockout punch.

It’s important to note that the Clipsy brand, the leaner sister of Chipsy (both owned by Pepsi) is ubiquitous in the Balkans. Clipsy here, Chipsy there. Good luck to everyone else. The bar for the hot dog crisp had been set high by some very pleasing varieties from the same brand: the Chipsy Rebrasti Slani (highly salty) the Clipsy Mix packets (unusual mixes, interesting shapes) and of course the new feta cheese flavoured ridge cut Chipsy Domaćinski (tangy, characterful and full of pep). Despite being vegetarian, the Ventrilocrisp was tickled by the image of the chubby, mustard-splattered pink frankfurter on this packet, and harboured secret hopes for a potent weiner flavour. But O! Sweet yearning makes way for black despair. I’ll be blunt: these crisps were disappointing. Bland, with not even a vestige of the promised weiner taste. At best, a poor man’s Pickled Onion Monster Munch (lacking any of their characteristic zing or body); at worst, an utterly unremarkable bite that, as if to caution the Ventrilocrisp for its vast illusions, quickly embedded itself into the molars to form a lasting reminder of these crisps’ deplorable, lackadaisical attitude to even the most basic tenets of good flavour.

The chip itself is a sorry halfway house, not as oily or indulgent as a Chipstick, but not as light and crunchy as a Walker’s French Fry. Yes, you can debase yourself and suck long and hard on these (as the Ventrilocrisp readily did) to glean every iota of flavour from the flute, but for what? Pittance.

Like literature’s great dreamers, the Ventrilocrisp has been left with egg on its face. Bitter reality has stumbled short of the Ventrilocrisp’s mighty expectations. O cruel fate! Hope is truly the deadliest sword of all.

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