Thanks to the Carina, currently blogging at Inclined to Criticize and soon to study at household fave, the Law School of the University of Chicago, I finally got a chance to taste Chocotato Chips. She whipped up a batch and, with my co-blogger Glen Whitman, brought them to dinner at our house last weekend.
(Glen once described Carina as "pretty amazing," or "pretty, amazing." Because he spoke the phrase, I was unsure just where he meant to put the comma. When I asked Glen to clarify, he understandably embraced both descriptions.)
Carina not only created what I had merely imagined; she improved on my plans. She created a novel and useful variant of the Chocotato Chips I had described by half-coating plain and ridged potato chips with chocolate. Brilliant! That made the chips easy to hold and helped to prevent the sweet and smooth chocolate from overpowering the salty, crunchy potato chips. In addition, Carina's Chocotato Chips avoided some of the manufacturing challenges posed by the version I'd championed, one modeled on chocolate chip cookies.
Alas, Carina's experimental prototype snack revealed a flaw in the whole Chocotato Chip concept. I'd touted them as "an innocent treat, when consumed in moderation." I had not imagined, however, that Chocotato Chips would prove so irresistible! The ruffled ones, in particular, pose a grave threat to self-control. I am thus not sure that moderation will prove an option.
Luckily, I have a fix: Patent Chocotato Chips as a comestible system for presenting and delivering foodstuffs. That statutory monopoly would allow Chocotato Chips to sell at a premium, marking them as a gourmet treat. Unable to afford bingeing by the bushel, average consumers would learn to savor each Chocotato Chip as a small miracle. (Wealthy people would overindulge, granted, but they can afford bi-annual liposuction.) Without that economic crutch for human frailty, Chocotato Chips threaten to burn through the market like some sort of whack snack crack.