Chewin’ the fat: My crisp hell
My name is Darren and I’m a crisp addict.
Well, I was. Back in the dark days pre-2004, I was a fried-potato junkie, a slave to supermarket six packs, which I bought on pretty much a daily basis. Two bags for breakfast - yum yum. A couple more packets for lunch. Finish off the rest in the evening, just before bed.
That’s 42 bags of crisps a week; 180 bags a month. It was no way to live.
I tried to kick the habit in 2003 - a new year’s resolution that lasted about a week. It was a year later that I finally managed to rid myself of the curse. It’s true what they say: the first two weeks are the worst. Or is that smoking? Actually, it might be Christmas…
These days, I don’t get cravings, and I can eat a lone packet of crisps - as I do a couple of times a month - without my fingers itching to open another one. Proof, I think, that I’ve well and truly beaten my addiction - along with many other people, if the falling sales of Walkers crisps over the past year (source: The Guardian) are anything to go by.
But wait - the company has started to fight back, reducing the fat content of its crisps by a substantial amount and relaunching the brand, just to let me know that it’s okay to gorge myself again.
Well, balls to you, Mr and Mrs Walker. I’m not going to turn back into a junk-food - sorry, treat-food - addict just because you’re asking. As much as I enjoy consuming your ever-so-tasty snacks, I refuse to let them consume me.