In 2024, You Have No Excuse for Committing One of the Greatest Sins of the American Cookout (2024)

I am from the future—this weekend, actually—here to speak for all those assembled at the Labor Day party: We want better chips.

Summer barbecues, I’m sorry to say, are rife with potato chip mediocrity. Classic Lay’s, plain Ruffles, Tostitos, Nacho Cheese Doritos, and whatever else the local grocery store conglomerate is shoving into the path of our collective eyeballs—these are what tend to dominate the field.

Chips are likely an afterthought, something you absentmindedly toss in the cart midway down the treat aisle after you’re done with the serious business of the meat display or the frivolity of outdoor decor. But, know this, friend: Kroger’s listless snack corridor doesn’t even begin to represent the amazing catalog of chips—the tasteful, crunch-filled brochure of thinly sliced snacks—available at your fingertips. These sterilized and harshly lit supermarket chains contain popular hits, but they lack depth, excitement, and flavor. Chips deserve better. We deserve better.

I’m from Pennsylvania—what I’ve dubbed Chip Country. That’s because PA is home to major chip companies like Herr’s, Wise, Snyder’s, Martin’s, Middleswarth, and Utz, the latter of which also owns Zapp’s, Boulder Canyon, Dirty, Tim’s, and Hawaiian. In short, if you enjoy boutique potato chips, they’ve likely got ties to Pennsylvania.

In Chip Country, I was raised to give a damn about potato chips. The same passion that most people put into cooked food—the recipes we cherish, how we excitedly share them—I put into chips. I approach this like an evangelist: Whenever I introduce somebody to a new style of chip they’ve never had before, they invariably become rapt with interest and excitement. And that’s not because of my powers of persuasion, per se; it’s because people are sick of America’s mainstay snack selections.

Despite overstuffed bags of Tostitos excitedly claiming to be “Party Size!” they’re anything but good for a party. Tostitos, an offshoot of Frito-Lay born in 1978, have since been outclassed by tortilla chip brands like On the Border, Calidad, and the thunderous crunch of Donkey Chips—these offer improved texture, exciting flavor, and nuance in contrast to Tostitos’ ho-hum consistency. They remind you that tortilla chips were never meant to be so utterly weak.

What’s more baffling is that the year is 2024 and people are still showing up to parties with Cool Ranch Doritos. Cool Ranch Doritos were released in 1986—nineteen-eighty-six, y’all. Like most things from the ’80s, the clashy corn-and-ranch flavor combo doesn’t hold up well. Meanwhile, Spicy Sweet Chili Doritos (which were released in 2008) pack a deliciously sweet and savory flavor. That flavor triumph is likely due to the soy sauce powder listed in the ingredients, which adds a distilled, undeniable umami flavor. Meanwhile, Tapatío Doritos, released in 2011, obliterate the acidic Flamin’ Hot flavor with their balanced, tangy heat. Neither of these flavors would exist without the influence of global food trends, and they are almost certainly available in a store near you.

Meanwhile, there’s an entire world of flavorful, funky, often regional potato chips at your fingertips through online ordering. I love introducing people to Grandma Utz’s, a style whereby the chips are fried in beef tallow, making for a meaty, beefy, saturated-fat-filled chip. It’s a crime that more people haven’t tried the sweet and salty ketchup chips which are the pride of Canada, or indulged in the pure summer vibes of grilled chicken and somtum–flavored Lay’s from Thailand, which pack a bright, funky, savory, smoky, citrusy flavor that are perfect for a summer barbecue. While we’re glancing at that part of the globe, why on earth would you pick up a lifeless, dull bag of Barbecue Lay’s on your way to a party when you can buy Thai flavors online like Nori Seaweed, Salmon Chili Lime, Sweet Basil, and Mieng Kam Krob Ros?

Here in Detroit, chef/chip hero Maryam Khan has been slinging masala kettle chips at her thrilling summer pop-ups. The chips, which are dusted with masala seasoning, pack a uniquely warm, sweet, earthy, and slightly spicy taste that’s unlike anything available at the grocery store. They’re perfect with a sandwich, great with a beer, and even better with an Aperol spritz. Maryam was driven to develop these chips after trying a bag of Masala Magic Lay’s that she found in one of her favorite Indo-Pak markets. “The flavor and texture were both severely lacking,” she said, “Typical great idea with half-assed execution.”

“The traditional American sour cream and onion, barbecue, salt and vin are just glimpses of the mile-long range of flavors that other cultures have been throwing at chips in the last millennia,” chef Khan went on to say. “I dream of the day that we’ve normalized putting more respect on the mighty vessel that is a potato chip, and will continue to throw some real masala magic on mine to drive that force.”

Maryam hits on something that I’ve thought for years: American society has collectively fallen into a chip lull. We’re sleepwalking through our selections, and the big brands aren’t changing their strategy because we keep buying the same bags, even though we know, in some quiet, wise part of our stomachs, that we could do better. Be better.

Last summer, I was asked to perform grill duty for a friend’s 4th of July function (such is often the case when you’re a food writer who’s also a former line cook). I was assured that I didn’t have to bring anything, but I found time to bring my version of chips and dip—Lebanese toum and Hot Mustard Doritos. I didn’t necessarily bring them to be dipped together (the toum was for the burgers), but inevitably, people started dipping the Doritos and garlic whip together. Pretty soon, the pair was being passed around the party, with each person exclaiming to the next, “You’ve got to try this.”

Party enhanced.

I get it. It’s Labor Day, the last hurrah of the season. You’re picking chips that you know will be inoffensive; chips that everybody will like. But that’s all wrong. You’re at a party. Go out of your way to bring something lively, something stimulating that arouses conversation.
This is what a good chip does, and the world is full of them.

Food is better when we approach it thoughtfully, and that needs to extend to our chips. For the precious days that remain of summer, I beg you to renounce the relentlessly boring Barbecue Lay’s. Dismiss Tostitos Hint of Lime (which doesn’t even contain lime, by the way). Reject what these tediously dull stores want us to buy, and step out of your comfort zone. Spend more time perusing the chip aisle at your local Thai, Indian, Mexican, or Japanese grocer, or fire up Amazon (or better yet, the chip company’s website) and order something funky and regional online. Bring honor to the chip. Spend more time with it. Consider where it’s been, where it’s going, and most importantly, think about what you and your friends actually want out of each handful—the party will thank you for it.