Cracked

My New Years Resolution for 2012 is to replace some of my fat with fit. It's just a difference of a single vowel, but is it easy? No, of course it isn't. If it were, we'd all look like the people who model expensive underwear, instead of like the people who ogle the people who model expensive underwear.


So I've been doing lots of exercise and going to the gym and trying to eat more restrainedly. But the healthy eating part is being thwarted by this:





These things are not beetroot chips. They are little pointy bits of beetroot-flavoured crack. I don't know their secret, but they've captured a perfect blend of sweet and salt. And although the ingredient list isn't terribly specific, they taste as if they've been fried in olive oil, adding a fruity undertone to the flavour. Whatever they've done it works, because I've been inhaling them like a man possessed... assuming that one can be possessed by a demonic force with a fierce taste for beetroot.


Fortunately they only come in 45g bags, which offers at least some portion control. But I still have to deal with the fact that they're organic, which makes me appear to be eating them for annoying hippie earth-nurturing reasons, rather than the fact that they taste of crunchy ecstacy.