The 10 Best Potato Chips

Screw, I love America. I’ve been all around the world, and I’ve never found anything anywhere that isn’t better in the U.S.A. I like to say there’s no such thing as bad pizza or a bad blow job, but my best friend claims he got both in Holland, and my friends don’t lie unless you pay them. Actu­ally, the French claim to have invented oral sex, and the Italians pizza, but who cares—we perfected them. One thing that’s all our own, though, is the all-American potato chip—more Born in the U.S.A. than the Boss. 

That the chip came to be in upstate New York in 1853 is certain. But there are two stories surrounding its invention. In the first, the cool-named Catherine Speck Adkins Wicks was frying doughnuts and slicing potatoes when a potato slice fell into the bubbling fat. Voilà—the first chip. Sounds like bullshit. The other story says a customer at a Saratoga Springs restaurant complained about soggy, bland potatoes. The offended cook, Catherine’s brother, George Speck Crum, fried some thinly sliced potatoes until they crunched, and made them extra salty out of spite. That’s the story I’m buying. I think a lot of real joy has been born of petulance. 

Americans are obsessed with chips. We spend $6.3 billion on them every year, and on Super Bowl Sunday, we consume at least 11 million pounds. My love affair with chips began at the end of high school, in my dead factory town of Greenfield, Massachusetts. I got a job driving a Ding Dong ice cream truck. My lunch would be three BombPops, a Nutty Buddy, and some lime popsicles for vitamin C. After that, you need some real food. But the only real food we sold was State Line potato chips. Luckily, the best follow-up to a lunch of sugar and fat is salt and fat. It’s a yin-yang thing. I loved State Line. They were good, funky potato chips. 

I guess I made an adolescent wish to have all the potato chips in the world, because now, when I’m 52 years old, Maxim has sent me boxes and boxes of cool, regional brands so I can do a taste test. (I sure hope in a few years they grant some of my later, better wishes, like having all those girls in my homeroom naked and on top of me.) Maybe they should’ve asked me to rate blow jobs and pizza. Doesn’t a lot of that happen on Super Bowl Sunday, too? Anyway, I tasted all 62 bags. I will eat nothing but celery for the rest of my life.

Let’s start with a few general notes. I don’t like BBQ chips. If you do, they don’t get a fair shake here—sorry. Also, some companies make cheese-flavored chips. They all suck. Everyone knows fake orange cheese-flavored powder is meant to go on popcorn. Many companies offer baked versions of their chips, which are supposed to be healthier. They just ain’t right. The Patriot Act should have a clause against baked chips. Now on to the favorites.

10. Tim’s
A lot of chips today have some “kettle cooked” thing going on that makes them extra thick and crunchy. I don’t dig loud, hard chips. And Tim’s Cascade out of Seattle are all loud, hard chips. When my buddy from Seattle had his orthodontia, the only thing they wouldn’t let him eat was Tim’s. Caramel apples were OK, but not Tim’s. However, Tim’s does make one flavor I like: Hawaiian Kettle Style Sweet Maui Onion. Like all kettle chips, they’re trying too hard to be “authentic” or something. But the Maui onion flavor is nice. If I settled down with two bags of these and a case of Diet Rite, I’d be very happy.

9. Utz
What if potato chips aren’t salty enough for you? Then you go with salt and vinegar. In the real world I love salt and I love vinegar, but salt and vinegar chips are too strong when I’m going to eat a whole big bag. And what kind of wouldn’t eat at least a whole big bag of chips? All that said, Utz Salt and Malt Vinegar are amazing. I still don’t think I could eat a whole giant bag, but if someone else is eating them, I’ll grab a handful.

8. Golden Flake
Golden Flake has a really nice, no-kidding Hot Thin & Crispy chip. The word hot on the bag is on fire—that’s straightforward, and so are the chips. There’s a cheesy poem on back of the bag, but the poem on the dill pickle flavor is better. First I should note that these chips are made with real pickle. I think I’d puke if I ate a whole bag, but that’s a good thing. Here’s the poem: “Kids and pregnant women think they are tasty/Try some yourself, be hasty.” Man, ain’t that America? These make me want to salute the flag.

7. Tri-Sum
This plain chip from Massachusetts is also really great. These cats have been around since 1908—there’s a drawing of a horse-drawn potato chip wagon on the package—and like all ancient potato chip companies, they claim to be the original. Oldest or not, these chips have a real understated pride. They’re a little crunchier than some of the others on the list. But they’re still pretty darn tasty. Besides, Tri-Sum is a really boss name. I like a nutty spelling and a pun in my chip names.   

6. Backer’s
Backer’s Red Hot Potato Chips are out of Missouri and they are hot!  There’s a cartoon of a 1930s piece of ass with the quote “The golden girl with the golden curl.” I have no idea what that has to do with chips, but I like it. The chips are really crunchy and seem fresh, but that isn’t a problem, because all the wholesomeness is taken away by the hot. Goddamn. These chips are so fucking hot.

5. Martin’s
Let’s say we have to split a bag of chips. You like crunchy, fresh, hippie chips, and I like old-fashioned chips that are a little soggy, so I can force more into my mouth at once. Martin’s, out of central Pennsylvania, is for us. All the bags look like they have big crosses on them, so if you’re a vampire, that might bum your crap. But the chips are good. The Red Hots are hot, the  jalapeños are complex, and the ridges for dipping are strong. This is a great brand of chip.

4. Mister Bee
Here’s another company that knows what I’m looking for in a chip. Mister Bee makes the old-fashioned, slightly soggy chips that I love. And they have a cartoon on the bag, which I now think I may require. It’s a bee in a top hat with a cane—Mister Bee himself, I assume. They claim to be the only potato chip manufacturer in West Virginia and note that they’re family-owned. Isn’t everyone in West Virginia family?

3. Deep River Snacks
Sometimes a hippie kettle chip can surprise you. Deep River Snacks is a small company out of Connecticut that has a down-vest vibe, but they make a damn good chip. It’s advertised as “gourmet,” which bugs me, but their Rosemary & Olive Oil chip is delicious. After you’ve eaten all the powdered-onion MSG jive, the clean taste of rosemary and the new-grease feel of olive oil is pretty great. I do wish their cartoon was funnier, though.

2. Route 11
If a chip bag comes with a warning, pay attention. Route 11 has a flavor called Mama Zuma’s Revenge. Tiny letters on the back of the bag read: “Warning: These chips are made with some of the hottest peppers on the planet.” Holy crap. They are so goddamn hot. You know those other chips I said were hot? They aren’t hot. These will fucking kill you. And if you need something soothing afterward, Route 11’s sweet potato chips are really great. They do it all. Far and away my favorite modern potato chip company.

1. Better Made
The first thing I love about Better Made is the old-fashioned-looking bag with the weird-ass Little Orphan Annie–like drawing on it. This Detroit company started back in 1930 and brags about being Motown’s last remaining chip maker. These are American chips exactly as they should be: not too crunchy, a little bit mushy. You can get a lot in your mouth at once. They also don’t have any ridges or added flavor—just salt and cotton-fat goodness. I love these chips. It was hard to pick a best, but as my friend Kinky likes to say, “Find what you love, and let it kill you.” I’ve found Better Made.