I don’t believe I’ve ever had a chip on my shoulder about anything (I’m not the angry sort), but sometimes you don’t always see the worst of yourself. I’ll have to ask my friends about this, their perception.
I can tell you that I do love a great bag of chips. Salty, crunchy chips. Chips that I can put on a dried beef, lettuce and mayo sandwich. Chips that hold up to shoveling smoked salmon pate or tuna salad. Chips that make so much noise in my ears that I have to turn up the volume of the TV.
Sorry to say, the Schlotzsky chips were not those chips. They were lacking true, crunchy chipdom, even though there was no trans fat or cholesterol, they were cooked in vegetable oil, and not one preservative was added.
Good for Schlotzsky chips, but here is where the contradiction comes into play.
I have not been to a Schlotzsky’s deli in a while. Evidently they made a deal with Cinnabon to share space. You know, the people that make low-cal (*ahem, choke-choke*) cinnamon buns with sugary frosting. I found it strange that a restaurant chain who openly shows the calories of their sandwiches and claims healthy chips will sell an extremely unhealthy dessert to its patrons. It’s a bit offensive, a bit irresponsible, a bit contradictory.
Enough, perhaps, to grow a chip on my shoulder?
I must go out to the pantry, grab my favorite bag of thinly sliced potatoes and ponder.
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