There’s something oddly ceremonial about the act of opening a bag of potato chips. A rip, a puff of air, and suddenly you’re holding a grease-slicked treasure trove of salted oblivion. Potato chips, those flimsy, fried ambassadors of temptation, are everywhere - from gas station shelves to the darkest corners of office break rooms. They’re as much a part of modern life as regrettable haircuts and car insurance commercials, and yet, with all their ubiquity, there’s still an undeniable romance to the crisp, fleeting joy of the perfect chip. But of course, with romance comes heartbreak: the disappointment of digging through a crumpled bag only to find a graveyard of broken promises - or worse, crumbs.
But then, like a sort of messianic snack, Pringles entered the scene.
Not content to be tossed around like common chips, these crispy wonders defied tradition by coming stacked, neat as soldiers, in their uniform canisters. Pringles dared to challenge the chaos of chip bags, the tyranny of air-filled sacks that boast more space than snack. They rose above, literally, perched one on top of the other in defiance of potato chip anarchy. Oh, they had their skeptics - those who sniffed at their perfectly engineered shape - but in a world where chips get crushed before you even reach the couch, Pringles offered salvation in the form of symmetry.
And let’s not gloss over the can. The can! A marvel of modern engineering, as cylindrical as ambition itself, capable of doubling as a storage unit, an impromptu bongo drum, or even a stereo speaker. Yes, Pringles are more than just a snack - they’re a beacon of order in a universe prone to crumbling chaos. And that’s why today we’re going to dive deep into the irresistible charm and somewhat baffling success of these crispy, stackable icons that prove that all chips are not created equal.
In The Beginning
In 1956, Procter & Gamble assigned a task to chemist Fred Baur to develop a new kind of potato chip.
Baur spent two years developing saddle-shaped chips from fried dough and selected a tubular can as the chips' container. (FYI, the saddle-shape of Pringles chips is mathematically known as a hyperbolic paraboloid. Poets call it the geometric snack shape of the gods…) Baur couldn’t figure out how to make the chips palatable and was pulled off the task to work on another brand. Baur did, also, develop Pringles’ iconic tall cylinder. At some point in the 1980s, Baur told his family that he wanted to be buried in his invention. The family initially laughed off the remark, but when Baur died and was cremated in 2008, his children stopped at a Walgreens on the way to the funeral home to honor their father’s wishes. “My siblings and I briefly debated what flavor to use,” Larry Baur told TIME. “But I said, 'Look, we need to use the original.’” So, Baur became, as far as we know, the only man whose ashes are buried in a Pringles can.
In the mid-1960s another P&G researcher, Alexander Liepa restarted Baur's work and succeeded in improving the taste. Although Baur designed the shape of the Pringles chip, Liepa's name is on the patent. Gene Wolfe, a mechanical engineer and author known for science fiction and fantasy novels, helped develop the machine that cooked them.
In 1968, P&G first marketed Pringles in Evansville, Indiana in the USA.
What’s in a Name?
P&G company officials still aren't sure how the chips got their name. One theory claims it comes from Pringle Drive, where two P&G advertising employees supposedly lived.
Another theory points to Mark Pringle, a man who co-patented a potato processing apparatus in 1942.
Still another theory implicates Lee Harvey Oswald, as all mysteries eventually must.
The product was originally marketed as “Pringle's Newfangled Potato Chips”.
Advertisements from the ‘70s explained what made the snacks so newfangled: “Everything! They’re fresh and unbroken. They come crackling fresh and stay that way - even after they’re open! They fit in cupboards - without squashing!”
But other snack manufacturers objected, saying Pringles failed to meet the definition of a potato "chip" since they were made from a potato-based dough rather than being sliced from potatoes. The US Food and Drug Administration weighed in on the matter, and in 1975 they ruled Pringles could only use the word "chip" in their product name within the phrase: "potato chips made from dried potatoes". Faced with such a lengthy and unpalatable appellation, Pringles eventually renamed their product potato "crisps", instead of chips. Today they’re simply called Pringles. No other designation is necessary. In a class alone.
If At First You Don’t Succeed
Pringles tested great when P&G released them in select markets in 1968, but once they went national - they flopped. The taste was off, and people just weren't feeling these dramatically different chips.
Consumers said that Pringles seemed artificial. Because the chip was a different shape and stored in a different container, people associated this artificial concept with an artificial flavor. Remarkably, people actually tasted something different because it looked different: they had a uniform shape, they weren’t burnt or greasy, and they weren’t all broken up. P&G solved the problems that consumers had asked them to solve, but now they didn’t like it. Almost as if the human brain makes us believe something that appears different, is different, and that that’s a bad thing (hmmmm…).
Instead of giving up, P&G realized they were targeting the wrong market – adults/parents. Adults weren’t open to the non-traditional, but teens liked being non-traditional. They were looking for something different.
So, P&G changed the target market to teens, lowered prices, added fun new flavors, and changed their ad campaigns and TV commercials to appeal to youths.
The Man on the Can
Several changes have been made to the Pringles logo over the years. While the instantly recognizable, round, floating head (whose name is Julius Pringles by the way) has always sported a large handlebar mustache, his eyes have changed from red to black, and his hairstyle has varied from slicked back to coiffed. (Currently, Mr. P's latest look features no hair on top at all - just eyebrows.)
Minibar Mainstay
According to The Washington Post, Pringles are one of the top-rated hotel room minibar snacks. In 2017, Hotel Online ranked the chips in second place, just behind water. And while publications like The Washington Post and CN Traveler write that the survival of the minibar will depend on including more unique, artisanal, location-specific offerings, they all point to Pringles as one of the mainstays of the traditional hotel amenity.
A Crispy NFT
In 2021, Pringles released their own non-fungible token, NFT: CryptoCrisp. According to HypeBeast, the digital art depicting a golden Pringles tube was created by artist Vasya Kolotusha. Only 50 copies of the virtual flavor file were made available for purchase.
Buying an NFT is like entering a bidding war. While a real edible can of Pringles may only cost a couple of bucks at the grocery store, this chromed-out image has gone for exponentially more money. The highest bid was placed on September 1, 2021, in the amount of 2.55 ETH (Ethereum, a type of digital currency). The value of 1 ETH at the time of purchase was about $3,529, meaning this copy of the Pringles NFT cost almost $9,000. Andy Warhol would appreciate this, we’re sure.
The “Cantenna”
While Pringles are tastefully unique in so many ways, the Pringles can also has many uses after the chips are gone. For example, if you have a lot of time on your hands (and, evidently no access to a stove) you can make it into a solar hot dog cooker
And, if you want to save some money on surround-sound speakers, you can turn your empty Pringles can into a speaker:
A Global Phenomenon
Today, there are four major Pringles factories around the world: Jackson, Tennessee; Mechelen, Belgium; Kutno, Poland; and Johor, Malaysia.
What started as the “Pringles Newfangled Potato Chips” has become one of the most successful snack brands in the world. It’s currently available in 140 countries and has the #4 market share position after Lays, Doritos, and Cheetos.
Since acquiring Pringles in 2012 from Proctor & Gamble Co., parent company Kellogg’s has seen its snack sales grow from $4.8 billion in 2011 to $13.4 billion in the 2022 fiscal year. “Over two-thirds of Pringles are sold outside of North America today,” Chris Hood of Kellogg Europe told Food Business News, adding, “The growth has been consistently global.”
A Flavor for any Tastebud
While there are about 29 flavors of the snack on shelves in the United States (not counting special and limited edition runs), the rest of the world has tasted an entirely different spectrum of Pringles.
They are available in over 160 different flavors around the world.
Of course, Original Pringles are everywhere, but, depending on where you are you can choose from flavors like Sour Cream and Onion, BBQ, Pizza, Sichuan Spicy Fried Chicken, Soft-shelled Crab, Grilled Shrimp, Cinnamon Sugar, Onion Blossom, Miso Ramen, and Beef Bowl in Japan, Prawn Cocktail and Piri Piri Chicken in the UK, Ham & Cheese and Mushroom & Cream in Hungary to name just a few.
Don’t Mess with the Italians
Italy has an amazing number of food and drink items that are given official certifications of authenticity by the European Union. According to Statista, at least 295 foods and 523 wines are protected. One of those items is Prosecco sparkling wine, and Italy stands at the ready to fiercely defend it from imitations.
So, when Pringles came out with a Prosecco and pink peppercorn flavor as part of their Xmas Dinner Party product line, Italian officials were outraged.
In Italy, this was perceived as a very serious crime of identity theft. A full investigation was conducted, and hundreds of cans of the flavor were seized from supermarkets in the Italian region of Veneto.
For their part, the snack company said that it was a limited European flavor that made use of the Italian wine, and the proper certification was displayed in the ingredient list. However, Italian officials asserted that they were never informed of it before the product's release. If they had been, they probably would have squashed the idea of using their precious wine for an American junk food snack anyway.
And so, we come to the end of our snackable journey through the annals of Pringles history. From their humble origins in the hands of a chemist obsessed with saddle shapes, to their eventual rise as global icon, it’s clear that Pringles don’t just exist to be eaten. They exist to challenge our expectations of what a potato-based snack can be - whether we like it or not.
It’s hard not to admire the audacity, really. In a world where snacks are generally content to be, well, snacks, Pringles have become a cultural artifact, one that has managed to sneak into funeral urns, minibar menus, and even the bafflingly lucrative world of NFTs. It’s as though each perfectly engineered crisp is silently whispering, “I dare you to underestimate me,” while you mindlessly crunch through your third sleeve.
But let’s be honest, Pringles have never been just about the flavor, have they? No, they’re about the spectacle, the bizarrely satisfying pop of that iconic can, and the way each crisp fits into your hand then onto the contours of your tongue like it was designed by someone with an engineering degree. Oh, wait - it was. So, the next time you find yourself reaching for that familiar tube, remember: you're not just buying a snack. You’re buying into a legacy, one crisp at a time.
By now, if you’re not reaching for a can of Pringles, you’re either in denial or simply afraid of what perfection tastes like. So go ahead – pop that top. And let us know what your favorite Pringles flavor is in the comments below.
I have never enjoyed Pringles! Except
Late at night after having a couple of Bourbons and i need something salty out of the mini-bar.
And contrary to popular belief or marketing, they are all broken at the bottom of the tube because the cases are handled exactly the same aa the bags with real potato chips.
It’s a kid novelty, as Michelle has referenced as a child.
For me, bring me a delicious bag of Lays!
Definitely a favorite of my childhood! And today I buy the organic knockoffs of these canned chips at my local co-op/whole foods store. Indeed still a "a beacon of order in (my) universe prone to crumbling chaos." Great blog!