Funyuns: Probably the grossest snack ever conceived

Paul Bacchi, Opinions Editor

Have you ever found yourself against the grain on something? Hating something that everyone else thinks is great?

Now, I realize how angsty that sounds, but that’s where I’m at with one particular snack food: Funyuns.

According to Wikipedia, a Funyun is “an onion-flavored corn snack introduced in the United States in 1969, and invented by Frito-Lay employee George Bigner. Funyuns consist primarily of cornmeal, ring-shaped using an extrusion process, representing the shape and texture of fried onion rings.”

I have some serious issues with that statement.

Firstly, “an onion-flavored corn snack?” Doesn’t sound very appealing to me—if I want to eat something onion- flavored, I’ll just eat an onion. Why make such a convoluted product?

Secondly, Funyuns supposedly represent “the shape and texture of a fried onion.”

Now maybe I’m a bit off here, but I just that that’s patently false.

Has the board of directors of Frito-Lay ever had an onion ring? I’m going to have to guess that’s a no, because Funyuns are dry, taste nothing of onion and bear no resemblance in texture to onion rings—real onion rings are wet, delicious and don’t leave your mouth feeling like a desert after just a single bite.

Plus, that packaging. Have you ever seen the packaging of a Funyun bag? A dreadful green and yellow color scheme—already off to a bad start, if you ask me.

And then the bag has the picture of the product inside, and it manages, somehow, to look everything but appetizing.

Some bags have a little note that says “baked not fried” as if that is an advantage, and not yet a further bastardization of that delicious snack I call real fried onion rings.

If you want to eat something onion-flavored, here’s my advice: forget about Funyuns, a product which surely proves that God does not love or care about us, and get some French onion dip, and a chip of your choice—typically, I would say that potato chips pair best with French onion dip.

Now you’re dealing with a snack. The beautiful interplay between the salty crispness of the chip and smooth, velvety onion-ness of the French onion dip. It makes my mouth water just thinking about it.

I will give Funyuns one thing, though—they certainly have their base. Almost every lover of those corn rings that I’ve ever met has been a staunch fan of them, and has considered me crazy for not liking them.

But then, maybe I’m the Galileo of snack foods—I may not be right at this moment, but in a couple hundred years, people will look back on my thoughts and think “Man, that guy sure was right about how much Funyuns sucked.”