Crazy Holiday Pringles!

Pringles. A brand of ultrathin potato crisps, sold in canisters that convert nicely into coin banks. All of you already knew this.

According to the ad slogan, “once you pop, the fun don’t stop.” Until recently, that was probably true. Even the worst Pringles flavor was still pretty good, and besides, they’re just so much fun to eat. Especially if you know the “Pringles Trick.”

What, you don’t? Allow me to explain.

The “Pringles Trick” is when you take a Pringle and wedge it lengthwise into your mouth, in front of your teeth. That’s Part 1, and at the end of Part 1, you should look like a mutant alien with a Pringle for a mouth.

Part 2 is even better. In Part 2, you take the middle finger on your right hand (I don’t know why it has to be your right hand, but it does), and use it to “flick” through the lip-trapped Pringle. The effect is similar in sensation to a karate champion smacking through a pile a wood. I know it doesn’t sound like much, but just wait until you try it. Prepare to clear your calendar.

Well, look at that. Barring an aside about the Common Merganser (that’s a duck), I could not have possibly gone more off-track. I apologize. It’s not easy to map out Pringles reviews. You kinda just dive in and see what happens. Sometimes, you hit your head on the ocean floor, and die on the spot. You are seeing exactly that unfold at this precise moment.

The point was that the old Pringles slogan no longer rings true. “Once you pop, the fun don’t stop.” Here, it’s quite the opposite. Virtually all of the fun is in the pre-pop era.

These are a disaster. They’re holiday edition Pringles, in “Cinnamon & Sugar” and “White Chocolate Peppermint” flavors.

If I’m not coming in loud and clear: CANDY CANE POTATO CHIPS.

(The red text indicates “caution,” not “Christmas.”)

But I must remind you that disasters can be beautiful. Consider volcanoes. Capable of killing thousands with a single blow, and yet, when they’re not killing people, we celebrate them as we do rainbows.

These Pringles are a beautiful disaster, and I commend Kellogg’s for taking such a risk. I know Kellogg’s likes to hide behind the curtain and act like Pringles exists as a totally distinct entity fronted by a man with a Rollie Fingers mustache, but this time, I think they deserve the direct credit.

Shown above are the Cinnamon & Sugar Pringles. I wasn’t expecting them to look so much like normal Pringles. Only a faint dusting of dark spices betrays the chips’ affiliation with Bad Flavors Incorporated.

The odor is not atrocious. Envision a gob of wet salt mixed into a box of Cinnamon Chex, and that’s pretty much what they smell like.

The real problem is the flavor.

The sugary spices seem wholly incapable of merging with their master potatoes. It’s like I’m tasting the sugar and the potatoes independently of one another, and yet, somehow, at the same time. I’m struggling to stay positive, but the simple truth is that sugar and potatoes will never win a tag team championship.

I was more excited about the White Chocolate Peppermint Pringles. That flavor sounded ten times as bizarre. Even if it wasn’t, the can was covered in attractive candy cane graphics.

Indeed, this was the team leader. The Cinnamon & Sugar Pringles were child’s play compared to these. After opening the can, I was smacked with a stench that I can only compare to Lucky Charms, because my Pringles-to-other-things odor comparisons start and end with brands of cereal. I don’t know why.

Their appearance was disappointing. I wanted these to be OVER THE TOP, with bright streaks of red. Instead, each chip just looks like a slightly-whiter normal Pringle. If photos captured audio, the one above would come with me sighing. You can practically tell from the limp tilt of the camera angle that the lack of red stripes had me totally deflated.

If you close your eyes and pretend you’re eating really dry Kit Kats, they’re actually not that bad. But I don’t think I should have to go through so much trouble to make Pringles taste good. Going from choco-peppermint to salty potatoes is just…odd. Not “odd” like “BLECH GETTEM OUTTA ME MOWD,” but “odd” like, “yeah, one was enough.”

The aftertaste is a big issue, too. Notice how “aftertaste” in of itself is a fairly neutral word, and yet, when we hear it, we always brace for some negative connotation? Aftertastes like this are the reason why. These have ruined the very concept of an aftertaste for me.

You might take these gripes to mean that I’d rate them poorly, but nuh uh. I’m elated that Pringles has holiday flavors. Kellogg’s was obviously going for the curiosity/oddity factor, so it’s not like they expected people to eat candy cane-flavored Pringles and scream, “THIS IS NATURAL!”  We were all in this just to say that we were in this. Everyone involved – you, me, Kellogg’s – knew the deal before we shook hands.

Plus, two new coin banks. One for the pennies, one for everything else. I think I’ll let the Cinnamon & Sugar can be in charge of the pennies. It just feels right.