Pringles Friendsgiving Feast!
For the second year in a row, Pringles released a stupid awesome Thanksgiving kit as an online exclusive. Get a load of their ridiculous Friendsgiving Feast:
The kit features six different crisps, including all of the flavors necessary to create a turducken “stack.” (Hence the monstrous mascot.)
The Friendsgiving Feast sold out in less than an hour, but it was only really on sale for like thirty freakin’ seconds. My story was one of a thousand reloads and about as many open tabs, and even with that level of dedication, I was very lucky to get through.
Lots of folks were ticked, and I don’t blame them. Part of the appeal of these wackadoo releases is that they’re limited, but surely there’s a way to maintain that without deliberately frustrating thousands of your biggest fans. (Maybe they could’ve given away an additional 25-50 kits through a raffle or something? I dunno.)
For what it’s worth, I got mine the real way. These weren’t comped to me by Kellogg’s or anything. I just kept reloading like my life depended on it, because in the moment, it felt like it did. Don’t hate the player, hate the game.
The six flavors are neatly compartmentalized in unmarked Pringles graves. I might’ve preferred marked Pringles graves, because in all but two cases, I wasn’t sure which flavor was which until I bit the crisp. That was fine when it was just a “turkey or chicken” situation, but when you’re expecting stuffing and you taste pumpkin pie, it’s a mindfuck.
Let’s start with the sides. From left to right, we have stuffing, pumpkin pie and cranberry sauce. Arranged in a row, it looks like you challenged a bunch of Pringles to imitate a 1980s Choking Victim poster.
The stuffing and pumpkin pie flavors are repeats from last year’s Thanksgiving kit, or at least, I think they are? The stuffing crisps are just as good as they were last year — and still get my vote as the best of the super-exclusive Pringles — but the pumpkin pie crisps seem less nuanced this time. They mostly just tasted like nutmeg.
Most striking were those cranberry sauce Pringles. The crisps certainly looked the part, though they tasted less like cranberry sauce and much more like cherry Kool-Aid. I can’t see how anyone would bite into those crisps and not immediately think of cherry Kool-Aid. It’s as close to an exact match as something with a potato base could be.
They’re too bizarre to work on the reg, but in a mix of exclusive holiday Pringles packed in a box that has Tod Browning’s Wuzzle on it, yes, they are fine.
And then we have THE MEATS. Chicken, duck and turkey.
The chicken and turkey Pringles are similar enough to almost be indistinguishable, but if you get all wine-tasty with them, you’ll note that the chicken Pringles are saltier and more reminiscent of cheap ramen. (Not a knock. Cheap ramen is great.)
I don’t know if the turkey crisps from this set are the same as the roasted turkey Pringles currently in stores, but I’m guessing they are. It’s tough to imagine Pringles scientists coming up with two distinct turkey flavors just for the hell of it. Like last year, the flavor is less “turkey” and more “spice rub ON the turkey,” but hey, that’s pretty good!
And then we have THE DUCK. The star of the show, and the big draw of the Friendsgiving Feast. They’re the most visually compelling of the kit’s six flavors, what with their orangey brown speckles and strong resemblance to dying suns.
I’ve never eaten duck in my life, so I can’t tell you if these actually taste like duck. I got a smoky, woody vibe from them. Not quite hickory, but maybe one of hickory’s cousins. Like a bouillon cube that rolled around in ash for a minute.
Armed with the three meaty Pringles, you can create the official TURDUCKEN STACK. It’s why I spent half an afternoon on Kellogg’s web store, continually praying that those images of Crackle and Tony the Tiger would actually load.
While I’ve never had turducken, I’m confident that it doesn’t taste like potatoes covered in garlic powder and paprika extract. It’s still a nice idea, and the stack rather fittingly resembles a duck’s bill. I also enjoyed the excuse to eat three Pringles at a time.
If you can’t live without a Pringles Friendsgiving Feast, eBay is your only option. Looks like they’re going for 65 bucks or so, which is fairly outrageous considering that Kellogg’s sold ‘em for just $16.
On the other hand, it is kind of cool that people are learning about supply and demand by way of duck-flavored potato crisps. The metrics teachers use in school surely aren’t that interesting.
