by Flack » Sun Apr 06, 2025 6:34 am
A couple of weeks ago, somewhere between Spain and Bermuda, I found myself exploring the Azores Islands, an autonomous group of islands that are technically a part of Portugal. The main island exists where three tectonic plates come together. The island is shaped like a triangle, like a kid drew it and then colored the entire island with three different shades of green. In the middle of the island are two lakes whose names literally translate to Blue Lake and Green Lake. They're both volcanic craters and even though they sit side by side, one reflects the color from the green mountainside while the other reflects the blue sky, making them look two different colors. The whole place looks like a setting in some Lord of the the Rings adaptation.
Our excursion on the island was scheduled for about three hours. That included driving up to the top of the island to look down on the lakes, going down into the crater to stand next to the lakes, and then a final hour or so to wander around this town that exists around the lakes.
I just spent a couple of days in Paris and not only was the city itself relatively gross, but unfortunately every stereotype I've ever heard about the French being rude was pretty accurate. Everyone from the people on the street to our Uber drivers were kind of dicks. The one exception was the waitstaff during our meal inside the Eiffel Tower and I'll just say that when you're eating pasta with lobster and caviar, the waiter ain't being nice for free. Anyway, the rest of the world understands how tourism works, puts on a smile, and welcomes obnoxious Americans with open arms. Make no mistake -- we as a country are pretty rotten travelers. I told my wife I was hoping to "blend in a bit" with locals during our adventures but I figured out real quick that in London if you don't look like an extra from Harry Potter... you look like a tourist. If you're wearing anything other than black, gray, or more gray... you're a tourist. Neither my gray jacket nor my black hoodie was enough to cover up my roots. But again... most places don't care and some places love it even when they probably shouldn't. The people of Azores loved us. Here we are, walking up and down the street drinking Coca-Colas (tourist) and talking to each other (tourists) and unless you're standing in the middle of the road trying to take a picture of some fountain you don't know anything about, they're pretty chill.
After ordering a coffee from a local coffee shop and walking along a short trail, my wife and I ended up at this little convenience store. They had candy and snacks and drinks and we're in Portugal so it all sorta-kinda looks familiar, but not really. There's M&Ms with funny writing on them, funny-looking cans of Coke and a lot of Fanta for some reason, and weird bags of chips. I don't normally buy potato chips as a snack but the colors caught my eye and as I'm scanning the selection I see... Ketchup-flavored Ruffles. Now on a road trip not too long ago I stopped in a Doller General and discovered pizza-flavored Pringles, so I am not up on the latest chip wizardry and I was thinking perhaps ketchup-flavored Pringles were a thing back home? Regardless, it was such a ridiculous combination that I decided I had to try it and so while other people from our group were grabbing protein and granola bars and bottles of water, I got in line and, along with one of those weird Fanta drinks, bought a bag of ketchup-flavored Ruffles.
We left the shop and walked around the town a bit longer. We didn't have to return to our ride back to the ship for another half an hour but let's face it... oncey you've seen one random 500-year-old fountain, you've seen enough. So my wife and I are leaning against some ancient wall just enjoying the view and I... I opened the bag of chips.
Now, I would call myself a... moderately curious eater? Like, if we're in another country I'll try a different fish plate or at the Chinese market I'll grab a random drink based on color alone, but I ain't eating cow's face or brain stew. Ketchup-flavored Ruffles seemed harmless enough -- a weird combo but not terribly gross. And if you think about it, potato chips aren't all that different from French fries, which we all eat with ketchup anyway. But I was not prepared for the experience to come.
They. Were. AWESOME.
I could not BELIEVE how good they were! I mean they're Ruffles, fine, but the ketchup flavor is sweet and... well, like ketchup! The salt from the chip combined with the sweetness of the ketchup flavor and this has to be what all these nerds have been harnessing AI to create because all your Sour Cream and Onion, BBQ, and Cool Ranch chip flavors can go to hell. Nothing will ever top these chips. By the time it was time to leave, half the bag was already empty. I ate more on the bus, had a few while waiting in line for security, and finished them up on the cruise ship before we even left port. Absolutely divine.
And while we were still in port, I checked Amazon to see if this heavenly concoction exists in the states and if I could have a case of them waiting for my eventual arrival back home.
On Amazon, the words associated with ketchup-flavored Pringles seem to be "Portugal Exclusive" which... the marketing of those two words alone is mind boggling. Who on god's green earth created the world's most delicious potato chip and relegated it to life in Portugal? Ridiculous! It does appear that they have since also been released in Canada and if you've watched the news recently you'll understand that they're cheaper to purchase from Portugal than getting them across the northern border.
Right now on Amazon, a single bag will set you back around $35.
But Amazon is smart, and all around my tomato-flavored chips are other brands. It appears Pringles makes ketchup-flavored chips, too. It's also a Canadian import, but I can get a can for just under $6. Canada also has ketchup-flavored Lays, Herr, and a few other brands. The Lays are maybe the best deal at $30 for five bags. But they're not those Ruffles. Those sweet, heavenly Ruffles.
One of my pals jokingly refers to me as the "cheapest rich person" he knows. I make plenty of dough and still buy my sunglasses at the Dollar Tree. I buy my shoes at the Outlet Mall and have a drawer full of stolen office supplies. I cannot in good faith spend $35 on a bag of chips. I could not enjoy them knowing what they cost... and yet, I am tempted. I am tempted every morning and every night. It is possible that every single meal could be made better with a small sampling of those chips. Oh, to have just one! Wait, not one -- two. One would be too sad. If I had one I would be right back to where I am now... chipless and broken. If I had two I could eat one and save the other, perhaps for all of time inside a small glass box that would be broken only in case of emergency. World War III breaks out? I'm having that second chip. And while I know things are made all over the world and are shipped daily, the idea of buying a single bag of chips from Portugal and having them delivered is comical. I imagine it riding in its own airplane seat, buckled in and in the upright position before being riding shotgun in an Amazon van on its way to my house. God, at that point could I even eat it? Maybe I name it -- put googly eyes on it and carry it around town. I'll make dinner reservations for two and me and Ketchy -- that's his name, see -- me and Ketchy will go out for a burger and "catch up" (no pun intended). He'll tell me how Portugal was and I'll show him around town and we will laugh and laugh until we cry.
And then I will rip his head open and devour those goddamn delicious chips because I am a monster and cannot stop thinking about those delicious Ruffles.
Sorry, Ketchy.
A couple of weeks ago, somewhere between Spain and Bermuda, I found myself exploring the Azores Islands, an autonomous group of islands that are technically a part of Portugal. The main island exists where three tectonic plates come together. The island is shaped like a triangle, like a kid drew it and then colored the entire island with three different shades of green. In the middle of the island are two lakes whose names literally translate to Blue Lake and Green Lake. They're both volcanic craters and even though they sit side by side, one reflects the color from the green mountainside while the other reflects the blue sky, making them look two different colors. The whole place looks like a setting in some Lord of the the Rings adaptation.
[img]https://i.imgur.com/JFMgcsi.jpeg[/img]
Our excursion on the island was scheduled for about three hours. That included driving up to the top of the island to look down on the lakes, going down into the crater to stand next to the lakes, and then a final hour or so to wander around this town that exists around the lakes.
I just spent a couple of days in Paris and not only was the city itself relatively gross, but unfortunately every stereotype I've ever heard about the French being rude was pretty accurate. Everyone from the people on the street to our Uber drivers were kind of dicks. The one exception was the waitstaff during our meal inside the Eiffel Tower and I'll just say that when you're eating pasta with lobster and caviar, the waiter ain't being nice for free. Anyway, the rest of the world understands how tourism works, puts on a smile, and welcomes obnoxious Americans with open arms. Make no mistake -- we as a country are pretty rotten travelers. I told my wife I was hoping to "blend in a bit" with locals during our adventures but I figured out real quick that in London if you don't look like an extra from Harry Potter... you look like a tourist. If you're wearing anything other than black, gray, or more gray... you're a tourist. Neither my gray jacket nor my black hoodie was enough to cover up my roots. But again... most places don't care and some places love it even when they probably shouldn't. The people of Azores loved us. Here we are, walking up and down the street drinking Coca-Colas (tourist) and talking to each other (tourists) and unless you're standing in the middle of the road trying to take a picture of some fountain you don't know anything about, they're pretty chill.
After ordering a coffee from a local coffee shop and walking along a short trail, my wife and I ended up at this little convenience store. They had candy and snacks and drinks and we're in Portugal so it all sorta-kinda looks familiar, but not really. There's M&Ms with funny writing on them, funny-looking cans of Coke and a lot of Fanta for some reason, and weird bags of chips. I don't normally buy potato chips as a snack but the colors caught my eye and as I'm scanning the selection I see... Ketchup-flavored Ruffles. Now on a road trip not too long ago I stopped in a Doller General and discovered pizza-flavored Pringles, so I am not up on the latest chip wizardry and I was thinking perhaps ketchup-flavored Pringles were a thing back home? Regardless, it was such a ridiculous combination that I decided I had to try it and so while other people from our group were grabbing protein and granola bars and bottles of water, I got in line and, along with one of those weird Fanta drinks, bought a bag of ketchup-flavored Ruffles.
We left the shop and walked around the town a bit longer. We didn't have to return to our ride back to the ship for another half an hour but let's face it... oncey you've seen one random 500-year-old fountain, you've seen enough. So my wife and I are leaning against some ancient wall just enjoying the view and I... I opened the bag of chips.
[img]https://i.imgur.com/0FIqiU9.jpeg[/img]
Now, I would call myself a... moderately curious eater? Like, if we're in another country I'll try a different fish plate or at the Chinese market I'll grab a random drink based on color alone, but I ain't eating cow's face or brain stew. Ketchup-flavored Ruffles seemed harmless enough -- a weird combo but not terribly gross. And if you think about it, potato chips aren't all that different from French fries, which we all eat with ketchup anyway. But I was not prepared for the experience to come.
They. Were. AWESOME.
I could not BELIEVE how good they were! I mean they're Ruffles, fine, but the ketchup flavor is sweet and... well, like ketchup! The salt from the chip combined with the sweetness of the ketchup flavor and this has to be what all these nerds have been harnessing AI to create because all your Sour Cream and Onion, BBQ, and Cool Ranch chip flavors can go to hell. Nothing will ever top these chips. By the time it was time to leave, half the bag was already empty. I ate more on the bus, had a few while waiting in line for security, and finished them up on the cruise ship before we even left port. Absolutely divine.
And while we were still in port, I checked Amazon to see if this heavenly concoction exists in the states and if I could have a case of them waiting for my eventual arrival back home.
On Amazon, the words associated with ketchup-flavored Pringles seem to be "Portugal Exclusive" which... the marketing of those two words alone is mind boggling. Who on god's green earth created the world's most delicious potato chip and relegated it to life in Portugal? Ridiculous! It does appear that they have since also been released in Canada and if you've watched the news recently you'll understand that they're cheaper to purchase from Portugal than getting them across the northern border.
Right now on Amazon, a single bag will set you back around $35.
But Amazon is smart, and all around my tomato-flavored chips are other brands. It appears Pringles makes ketchup-flavored chips, too. It's also a Canadian import, but I can get a can for just under $6. Canada also has ketchup-flavored Lays, Herr, and a few other brands. The Lays are maybe the best deal at $30 for five bags. But they're not those Ruffles. Those sweet, heavenly Ruffles.
[img]https://i.imgur.com/MsUI8BI.jpeg[/img]
One of my pals jokingly refers to me as the "cheapest rich person" he knows. I make plenty of dough and still buy my sunglasses at the Dollar Tree. I buy my shoes at the Outlet Mall and have a drawer full of stolen office supplies. I cannot in good faith spend $35 on a bag of chips. I could not enjoy them knowing what they cost... and yet, I am tempted. I am tempted every morning and every night. It is possible that every single meal could be made better with a small sampling of those chips. Oh, to have just one! Wait, not one -- two. One would be too sad. If I had one I would be right back to where I am now... chipless and broken. If I had two I could eat one and save the other, perhaps for all of time inside a small glass box that would be broken only in case of emergency. World War III breaks out? I'm having that second chip. And while I know things are made all over the world and are shipped daily, the idea of buying a single bag of chips from Portugal and having them delivered is comical. I imagine it riding in its own airplane seat, buckled in and in the upright position before being riding shotgun in an Amazon van on its way to my house. God, at that point could I even eat it? Maybe I name it -- put googly eyes on it and carry it around town. I'll make dinner reservations for two and me and Ketchy -- that's his name, see -- me and Ketchy will go out for a burger and "catch up" (no pun intended). He'll tell me how Portugal was and I'll show him around town and we will laugh and laugh until we cry.
And then I will rip his head open and devour those goddamn delicious chips because I am a monster and cannot stop thinking about those delicious Ruffles.
Sorry, Ketchy.