I'm no Claire Saffitz, but I did recently try to make snack food at home. I cut stale tortillas into thin strips, heated an inch of oil in a high-sided skillet, cooked them until deep golden-brown, then fished them out and gave them a generous salt shower. As I submerged one handful into a bowl of bean soup then crumbled an even larger portion on top, I anticipated the chips’ salty snap. But instead, they were bland and quick-to-sog, which left me wondering, “Why hadn’t I just bought a bag of Fritos in the first place?” Fritos, I realized, had been the goal all along.
Consistent in taste, texture, and availability, Fritos contain only three ingredients (corn, salt, oil), which puts them high on my personal list of almost-not-processed processed snack foods (hey, I tell myself what I want to hear).
I know Fritos are well-seasoned because they make the edges of my lips dry out and they demand a glass of water between handfuls. I know Fritos are crunchy because they're sturdier and thicker than most tortilla chips, holding up even when mounded with a pile of chili, Frito pie-style. I know they're reliable (and, um, mass-manufactured) because they taste exactly how I remember they taste every time I taste them. And I know they're irresistible because when I brought a couple bags into the Test Kitchen to officially develop a vegetarian chili recipe, people couldn't—and wouldn't—stay away, even when I insisted that I needed them. (When these people caught me snacking, this became a little awkward.)
So yes, you could substitute your favorite tortilla chips in this soup or fry up your old tortillas on the stovetop. Or, you could accept that Fritos are better than anything you’ll concoct at home. They give body and flavor to the soup and produce something between bean chili, frito pie, and tortilla soup—a very fine combo, if you ask me. Sometimes store-bought is best.
