Rec: put potato chips on your sandwich

That's it. It's not new or novel or trendy, but it's good. Love a kronchy sandwich.

I ate a black bean burger for lunch. It was a frozen patty, microwaved to heat it up and then pan fried for crispy edges. Some garlic aioli and Tapatío hot sauce. Pepperidge Farms potato bun. It tasted good, but texturally it was a mouthful of mush. Solved by some kettle chips. Full crunch, good flavors. Fat on fat on fat.

Putting potato chips on sandwiches is certainly not new, because I invented it when I was five. Some Seyfert’s (now-defunct Ft. Wayne, IN company) ridged chips on there revolutionized the white bread, boiled chipped ham, and yellow mustard sandwich that was boring me to tears. Since then, lots of chefs and sandwich shops have stolen my invention. But that’s how food goes, isn’t it? We get inspired by someone else’s possibilities, and we take them for ourselves. New path, new future, all because of some fried potatoes.

Does it bother me that I didn’t receive compensation for my creation? Not at all. Perhaps a little. That’s what happens when you’re five and don’t understand copyright law. I didn’t even have a lawyer then. I didn’t get one until I was seven. Sure, I could have done a poor man’s copyright and mailed a potato chip sandwich to myself, but what would I do with it now? All I would have is a moldy lump of something unrecognizable sitting in a crusty envelope, and I certainly have enough of those already.

So, put some potato chips on your sandwich. Go ahead. It’s free for the taking. Enjoy my creation. And enjoy the crunch.