Memory is unreliable. People swear Smoky Bacon Walkers used to taste better. Smokier. More bacony. More something. Whether this is true or whether nostalgia has simply inflated the past, the present is disappointing.
The smoke exists as a faint whisper rather than a statement. You’re aware the crisp is smoke-flavoured in the same way you’re aware lift music is playing. It registers without engaging. The bacon element is even more abstract, a savoury undertone that could be any meat or no meat at all.
In a multipack, these still disappear first. Not because they’re good, but because they’re the least boring of the boring options. Faint praise for a faint flavour.
The texture situation
Same thin crisp, same soft collapse, same lack of crunch. Smoky bacon flavouring can’t rescue structural inadequacy. You’re eating smoke-flavoured disappointment that falls apart in your mouth.
The pub association remains strong. These taste like pubs, like beer, like a certain kind of British social experience. But tasting like a memory isn’t the same as tasting good. Nostalgia is not a flavour.
