"You better have the details on how these things are made when you get back," my driver said as we pulled up to the lab's entrance.Soon, I would be Charlie Bucket-ing my ass all over the test plant, the first outsider to peek behind the curtain of Pringles.
Enjoy first class living at Wyndtree Townhomes located in Springfield, Battle Creek's finest suburb. I did pay it because I should have taken pictures to prove my case.
Our quiet community is nestled in a country atmosphere while still being close to shopping, dining, and entertainment. We are offering a rent concession of $500 off your Augusts' rent if you sign a lease by August 5, 2016. I was not exactly pleased with the overall professionalism of the management either.
But a recent run of viral urban legends -- did you hear they're made of discarded Mc Donald's fries?
-- may have forced the corporation's proverbial hand.
The sensation of a heated Pringle, literally seconds removed from fry oil, reminded me of state-fair food -- crispy, buttery, dripping with savory flavor.
"For the Original, all we add is salt," Nakashima said, trying one himself with a satisfying crunch. If Pringles is known for anything -- other than making it ridiculously hard to eat the chips at the bottom of the cans -- it's the dizzying array of flavors.Men and women with clipboards inspected and nodded their heads as if part of a synchronized engineering symphony. Despite laying flat, the shape was instantly recognizable. There was a product for every palate, a flavor for every disposition. One can was a chocolate-dusted dessert option -- which is definitely a thing (who knew? "I hope you're ready to do some actual work," deadpanned Matthew Nakashima, the senior product development scientist. Each dough-val is placed inside a mold called "a saddle," and then run through hot frying oil, giving the crisps their distinct, stackable shape and golden-brown hue.Occasional tendrils of steam escaped to the rafters above in a barrage of potato smells and industrial sounds. Our dough was poured into a funnel feeding a conveyor belt, where an automated machine punched out flat oval shapes by the tray. He only looks a few years older than me, but he's responsible for making sure that things run smoothly at this multibillion-dollar food-engineering venture. As I strapped on a set of goggles and headed to the frying room with a tray of dough-vals, I noticed the increasingly familiar face of Julius Pringles emblazoned on director of marketing Kurt Simon's socks, peeking out under the cuffs of his jeans. In the big factory, robots fry dozens of the crisps at a time.He told me with a smile that the lead developer behind Pringles, Frank Bauer, was cremated and buried in a Pringles can (Original flavor). I was doing them by hand, plunging a saddle-on-a-stick into a vat of oil.After drowning each crisp for about 15 seconds, I opened a clasp and a warm, perfectly formed Pringle popped out.Some were secret flavors that will not be named, since I signed some nondisclosure papers. I hope so," Schenke added, with a hint of exasperation.