The first time I encountered Kettle-flavored Pop Corners, I was in a gas station in Los Angeles, paying for a half-tank. On a shelf over by the counter sat a pyramidal pile of snacks, one with markings unfamiliar.

They were no Ruffles, no Doritos, no Cheetos I’d ever run into. They were, as the package announced, “popped corn chips.”

What they did not say was that I was not destined to be addicted to them.

I relish every opportunity to try something new and it had been one of those nights so it was pretty much a certainty that I’d walk away from that station out two dollars and with a bag of some hundred calories. Being a fan of the salty-sweet flavor of kettle corn, I decided on the Kettle variety.

Now whenever I do buy something on a whim, I know the lack of decision-contemplation increases my chances of regretting the purchase. So accordingly, I lower my expectations. I lower them way down.

To my surprise, my first bite was a taste of one of the best snacks I’d had in a while.

As you can imagine, PopCorners are the bastard child of popcorn and potato chips, in texture and taste. They are the unwanted progeny treading the middle ground between both parents, whose only motivation in life is success, success that will make its parents regret their decisions of abandoning it.

In this case, there is a lot of reason for popcorn and potato chips to kill themselves.

Kettle-flavored PopCorners are eminently edible, with the kind of simple flavor and lightness that make devouring a bag the easiest thing in the world. Pringles can eat it because this is the chip you can’t stop popping.

I haven’t seen these things at every gas station, let alone grocery store, but everyone out there should hope that their local joints carry it because they’re the epitome of addictive.

If you do pick them up, don’t bother grabbing a bag clip: you will finish them all in a sitting. So bring a friend and get fat together!