Published: July 03, 2009 04:54 pm      

Sentimental over Sterzing’s

I’m not a big fan of junk food. I limit the high-fat, low-nutritional selections I consume. But, we all have our weakness — the comfort food we can’t say “No!” to, but should. The ones we fantasize about in between enticing encounters.

For me, it’s tempting, tantalizing and tremendously tasty Sterzing’s potato chips. The company Web site says Sterzing’s are quite possibly the world’s best potato chip. That claim is too modest. They are absolutely, positively THE best. Nothing else comes close.

What? You’ve never heard of them? Never savored the greasy, salty, indescribably delicious, crunchy chip from my childhood? Small wonder. You see, Sterzing’s are made exclusively in Burlington, Iowa, and the distinctive yellow bag with bright red lettering is sold only in a limited geographic area — southeast Iowa.

That’s part of the attraction. I can’t make a quick stop at my local grocery and grab a bag for a late night gorge-fest. I have to beg my Iowa relatives to mail care packages when the urge to devour an entire 11.5 ounce Economy Pak strikes.

The addictive chips, manufactured by three generations of one family since the 1930s, contain the same three basic ingredients since their start: potatoes, oil and salt. The Web site says the chips are made fresh daily, the old-fashioned way, one batch at a time. No one knows for sure what goes on in the kitchen since the company doesn’t allow tours. I’ve called and cajoled for years, with no success. The place is off limits to the public, press and probably even the President of the United States.

But I’m still curious about what happens during the process, since no two bags are alike inside. Some are loaded with light — almost undercooked — chips, like the cook was in a hurry to leave work early that day. Other bags are stuffed with dark brown chips making me suspect that the cook forgot to take the potatoes out of the hot grease when the alarm dinged, yet sent them down the conveyor belt to be packaged anyway. I’m thankful to receive either variety. This is no time to be picky.

I do draw the line with the trans fat free chips — the only new addition to the product line since 1933. It substitutes a different oil for a different flavor and fat content. No thanks. Not interested. I demand the real deal — Sterzing’s Classic — at any cost. My dad, however, had pricing issues. He once drove 500 miles to visit us, without a single bag of Sterzing’s stowed away. This was an omission of epic proportions. I would’ve settled for a half-eaten bag, even if some of the chips were stale.

“How could you forget the Sterzing’s?” I asked in disbelief, assuming this was just an unfortunate oversight. “They weren’t on sale,” he explained, like that was supposed to make sense. Instead of the two-for-$5 bargain he always waited for, the price remained at $2.99 apiece. My thrifty Dad stubbornly refused to pay that much, even when I promised to reimburse him for the difference.

Fortunately my sister Cindy fully comprehends my cravings. When she flies to Kentucky for a visit next week, I’m confident she’ll stuff two Economy Paks in one carry-on tote for me, and two for our other sister, Rebecca, in northern Kentucky. She’ll haul them on and off planes, through terminals and past security without complaint.

The best part of the hand-delivered method, besides fewer crushed chips, is consuming them with others who appreciate their true value. Not everyone is worthy of this special privilege. If, during a sacred Sterzing’s eat-a-thon, one of my children utters the inconceivable comment that, “Lays are better,” they are banned from the table and their carefully apportioned chips are divided among the others who are still in good standing. There’s not much chance of redeeming themselves for that munch session since Sterzing’s have a short shelf life at our house. Only a few minutes elapse between the time we ceremoniously rip the top off until we practically lick the bottom of the bag to catch any clinging crumbs.

I usually show great restraint with the second bag. I allow time to recover from our first Sterzing’s stupor before carefully doling out the next round of chips to the most deserving among us. It could be months before we encounter another bag. Maybe we’ll take our own road trip to Iowa to visit relatives. I wonder what U-hauls rent for — just in case there’s a sale on Sterzing’s while we’re in the neighborhood.