In case you're wondering, no, I haven't done any cooking OR eating worthy of blogging about since the lettuce wraps on Sunday. The most significant food-related event of my entire week has been the discovery that the strange barbecue-sauce substance dripping on the bottom shelf of my fridge is actually adobo juice from some stored chipotles. That's life sometimes.

So the closest thing I have this week to an interesting food insight revolves around Doritos, the quintissential American food. It's chunks of deep-fried corn that have been spray-painted so that they taste like other food. If there's anything more emblematic of American food culture than that, I don't know what it is. Dorito flavor experimentation has been pretty stagnant since the summer introduction of Porn Doritos (they look like sleazy motel signs and are called Jalapeno Popper and Tacos After Midnight. I get the message, marketing guys!), but there are items of note.

First is the return of Black Pepper Jack Doritos, the most successful of last year's flavor experiments. Of course, I bought one bag last week that proudly proclaimed the flavor's return, and one week later the Target was devoid of any sign of them, so maybe they were back and now they're gone again. I like them even though I'm not even sure I could recognize actual Monterey Jack in a blind taste test. Still, black pepper and whey powder on corn isn't awful</p>

There's also a new flavor of Collisions, which is actually two new flavors of Collissions. Collissions are bags containing two different types of Doritos, which isn't an awful idea, but most of the types they put in the bags are types that don't actually get sold separately. This is especially true in the new bag, which is half "Cheese Enchilada" and half "Sour Cream". These are patently ridiculous flavors by modern Dorito standards. Did they pull out old seasoning bags that have been in storage since 1987? They certainly taste like they do.

I mean, I expected "whey powder and tomato" and "whey powder and citric acid" respectively, but what I didn't expect was for the Enchilada chips to be MORE bland than the Sour Cream chips. Who has ever eaten an enchilada that had less flavor than a spoonful of sour cream? If you've raised your hand, I hope you eat at better Mexican restaurants now.

Come on, Doritos. Get on the ball. Where is the company that put out chips that tasted like McDonalds cheeseburgers, then didn't tell anyone what the flavor was until it was too late? I miss that company, and this pale impostor who tries to get me excited about Sour Cream Flavor should go find that other guy and bring him back.