All over the head of crisps

Wile row in the house on Saturday night: Voices were loud and then louder. The table was banged and then banged again. As the hanlin got up, the dog wisely retired to the corner of the kitchen for a sad, lonesome whine.

It was like one of those boxing weigh-ins when the prospective pugilists square up to one another amidst vicious and venomous insults and then the obligatory claims that there is only ever going to be one winner. Except on Saturday night, it was worse.

“Your breath stinks of dead fish…”

“The last time I saw a face like yours, it started barking…”

“You’re nahin only an aul H…

And that wasn’t the half of it.

Thankfully, pacifism prevailed at the eleventh hour and fisticuffs were thus averted – but only just. Slipping the knuckle duster back into the rear pocket of my jeans, I appealed for calm – or if not calm exactly, less roaring and shouting.

You wouldn’t believe it either, but the whole ruckus erupted over the head of a bag of crisps, or in this case, two bags of crisps (those two featuring in the picture).

Not that it was a fight over who would eat the crisps – it was nothing so boorish as that – but rather, it was an argument about which crisp tastes best, Irish Tayto or Northern Irish Tayto. And it had all started off so civilised…

Back at Easter we, which-is-to-say, the family, found ourselves sitting at the harbour in Killybegs eating ice-creams. I had also happened to pick up a bag of Tayto Cheese and Onion when purchasing the cones, thinking we might have some fun at a later date.

Saturday night then swung around and I suggested, “Why don’t we do a taste test to see which is best: Irish Tayto Cheese and Onion or Northern Irish Tayto Cheese and Onion.”

What I should have said was, “Why don’t we have a roaring but pointless argument about nothing where no-one wins.”

Whilst my suggestion for the taste test was widely welcomed as an opportunity to eat crisps with impunity, the debate soon soured into a slanging match.

After an initial blind taste test for the two little humans (both selecting Northern Irish Tayto as their preferred Cheese and Onion crisp of choice), I dove into both bags, offering Herself a few crisps before I demolished the lot.

My own preference tallied up with that of Herself insofar as we both preferred the Irish Tayto.

“What are yous two on about?” I admonished the little humans. “The Irish Tayto is far better.”

Then, surprisingly, the littlest little human used my own argument against me.

Some time ago when discussing the merits of Guinness with a friend I posited that Guinness in the south is always going to taste better because when you’re drinking it, you’re on holiday (this writer lives in Tyrone). The ‘betterness’ merely is a construct of the mind, since you’re on vacation and thus happier. Little did I know that Anna had been listening and, knowing her, most likely recording the conversation.

“It’s the same for the Irish crisps,” Anna said. “If you’re eating Irish Tayto, you’re usually on holiday.

“When you say they’re better, it’s because you’re used to eating them on holiday – them being better is all in your head.”

“Why you little…” I began, and made to move around the table to exact some long overdue corporal punishment.

Anna evaded my middle-aged grasp and proceeded to stick a tongue out of a sneering face. The table was banged and then banged again. Voices were loud and then louder. As the dust settled (minus the corporal punishment – I don’t fancy a visit from social services), we agreed to disagree.

In hindsight and as an after-thought, there is probably some mileage in the Irish-Tayto-tasting-better-on-holiday assumption. However, in taste terms, both crisps are markedly different, as you might expect from cheese and onion from two separate producers: The two iterations of Tayto with the branding and the little spuddy man on the packets, are entirely separate and have no connections other than their naming similarities. One is made in the north and the other in the south and never the twain shall meet, excepting of course in my kitchen.

The moral of the story though is that there is no accounting for taste.

Some people will prefer the Northern Irish Tayto with its MSG while others will prefer its southern cousin sans the MSG.

Personally, whilst I could eat either brand to a band playing, I know which I’d rather have – and I don’t have to be on holiday to enjoy a bag.

Which do you prefer? Answers on a fiver to Michael J Devlin…

NOTE

My breath did actually smell of dead fish at the time. However, that was the product of the Beanboozled jelly bean (dead fish flavour) which I’d previously been tricked into eating by the same little human who required the leathering.