I just learned that March 14th is National Potato Chip Day. I just know this has been kept from me by my loved ones to curb my enthusiasm.
For I am a chip connoiss-umer.
Not a connoisseur, for that requires way too much actual research and culinary knowledge.
I simply eat ‘em, and I sample any brand I can get my scaly hands on. The oils are great for my eczema.
For me, it’s not quality over quantity or vice versa. Rather, it’s “Yes and Amen” to both.1
It’s All Warth It
The cat’s out of the bag. I love Middleswarth chips. Here’s why:
The taste. There may be a better chip out there, but I’ve not tasted it. On top of that, whenever I’ve introduced these savory slithers to someone, their reaction is
Rrrhmmmm (smack smack) daz GOOD! (gulp). Got more?
The place. Middleswarth rules the central PA region and is headquartered in Middleburg, PA, a sleepy Snyder County town. Stories on their website abound of displaced locals from around the globe gleefully receiving bags of chips. No longer must I stock up when visiting my Mom in Lewisburg. Giant Markets sells them.2
The packaging. I’m not sure how eco-friendly the bags are, but they do lock down the flavor and freshness in Kevlar fashion.
The design. What’s not to love about the mod “M” logo, seasonal color schemes, and a lower border of pine trees?
The “A.” That one letter in the founder’s name3 is the grade they deserve.
But what makes Middleswarth chips so darned good?
Tally Ho!
The answer runs parallel to a tragic story that Malcolm Gladwell tells so well in his podcast, McDonald’s Broke My Heart.
Essentially, during the early rush to rid America of diseases caused by cholesterol, Ronald McDonald and his gang caved in to pressure to drop the elixir that made their fries legendary: tallow, a rendered form of beef or mutton fat.
It’s the lard in Zerbe’s and the tallow in Middleswarth’s that give them an edge on taste.
Why Should the Devil Have All the Good Snacks?
Only the devil himself would dream up something as debased as the potato chip: nutritious fruit of creation sliced up, deep-fried, and plastered with salt, all for the devious purpose of luring sin-bound consumers into a lifestyle of cheap lusts, obesity, and emptiness.
And so went a diatribe from a speaker at a Christian music festival! I heard it secondhand and admit to embellishing it a bit.
I remember thinking at the time:
What a stupid topic to get hung up on! I mean, why pick on chips and those who love them? Don’t Christians have bigger fish to fry? Ahem.
Why is this speaker so salty? Second ahem. Was he abducted and forced into a pantry full of snack foods from which he ate his way out?
WRONG! Potato chips are a standout example of human culture: a delicacy and staple all at once. He says from Pennsylvania, snack food central.
In All Seriousness
Ironically, it’s the season of Lent, and I’ve forgone snacking between meals until Easter. As a consummate grazer, I’m feeling hunger more than usual.
The late pastor and author Robert Farrar Capon has been a material and spiritual guide to me. He says,
I would rather have one magnificent meal followed by a day of no meals at all, than two days full of ambitious mediocrities at close intervals.4
Only this year have I come to appreciate how fasting is not so much a denial, infliction, or weight-loss regimen.
Instead, it’s a staging area for feasting.
That could explain why I’m finding Middleswarth chips (and all other tasty foods) far from “ambitious mediocrities,” as Capon puts it.
They’re worth feasting on. In moderation, of course.
When it comes to chips, I remain an unashamed Epicurean and Hedonist all at once. 😉
Curiously, Weis Markets does not, though they are headquartered within spitting distance of the factory.
Ira Middleswarth started the company in 1942 in Beavertown, not Middleburg where the factory is now. So no “middle” connection, unless you believe it’s a heavenly sign.
Robert Farrar Capon, The Supper of the Lamb: A Culinary Reflection (New York: Random House, Inc., 1969), page 145.
While I agree Middleswarth makes some darn good chips, let me share my ultimate chip story. In 1982, I had an engineering internship at Frito-Lay research headquarters in Dallas. One of my assignments took me to a pilot plant that had a potato chip line. All summer I had the privilege of eating chips immediately as they passed out of the oven. I would try to exercise self control, but alas, I usually could not eat much dinner the days I was assigned to the plant. I have never tasted a chip or even a piping hot French fry that comes close to the glorious deliciousness that was the newly minted Lays potato chip.