Standing at the bar, I clamp the plastic film of crisp packets between my fingers as I slowly guide three full pint glasses into the clutches of my open palms. Lying on the beach I balance cold aluminium against the warmth of my thigh as I absentmindedly rummage for the Lays somewhere next to me. Opening the fridge my face is greeted with overbearing artificial light as my arms reach for two bottles at the back, my hips nudging the drawer shut as I find the opener, my voice guiding my friend on their third attempt to find the cupboard holding the bowls.

It should be easy writing a guide to beer and crisp pairing seeing as I have been devouring them together on a weekly basis for as long as I have been legally able. When people tell me they don’t understand how food and drink pairing works I point out that it’s what they’re doing every time they curate a meal deal, reject one snack in favour of another with their cup of tea, or ask for a half pint and a packet of crisps at the bar. It’s as simple as choosing whatever food and drink speaks to you the most and placing them together.

The architecture of a good beer and crisp pairing lies in the primal subconsciousness that growls within us. It is not about facts, but about feeling. It’s the tilt of your head as you take one last swig before guiding the crumbs into the embrace of your tongue. It’s the tearing open of packet after packet, layering one over another in the centre of the table as your pint glasses form careful fence posts around them. It’s heading straight to the garish bright lights of the crisp aisle as you scan for something new and unexpected, something fun, and cradling the packet in the crook of your arm, cans swinging from the grip of the other as you walk home. There is no fear to be found here. Only joy.

““The architecture of a good beer and crisp pairing lies in the primal subconsciousness that growls within us.””

I am always drawn to that which is not to be taken too seriously. There is so much to be learned if only we can be bothered to pay attention to the moments that pass by so thoughtlessly. What if the formulas for a perfect food and drink pairing lie in our beer and our crisps? What if the key to our likes and our dislikes, to knowing who we are and how we interact with the world, can be found in our order at the bar? What if by beginning to notice why we reach for the items we do we can start to understand the relationship between feeling and flavour and apply that to everything else we consume?

This is my essential guide to beer and crisp pairing. An attempt to unpack the building blocks of flavour that construct our pints and our snacks. A rejection of accuracy and correction and a greedy curiosity towards what feels fun and playful. A truthful declaration to who I am and, depending on your response, an offering of who you might be, too.

Some housekeeping before we begin:

This guide is split into two sections depending on whether you want to start with the beer or the crisps first. I have then chosen ten styles and flavours to explore within each section, with more precise pairings given as examples for each. I have defined crisps as a potato or potato adjacent snack that tends to be found behind the bar or in the crisp aisles of a shop, and I have defined beer styles as you might see indicated on the list displayed in a pub or taproom. There is only so much one woman can cover and I have forgiven myself for the detail and genres missed. I trust you to have the grace to forgive me, too.

I can only know myself and the pairings I discuss below work for me and my tastes. Maybe you know outright that you would pick differently or maybe you feel uncertain on where to begin and use these pairings as starting points, only to discover your predilection lies elsewhere. I put this guide together with the knowledge that if every person reading this agreed wholeheartedly with every pairing I’ve made I will have done an awful job. The fun lies in the personal preference of it all. After reading, I'd love to hear yours.

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BEER FIRST

Radler

The song of summer opening hours and the poetry of the beer garden; I do not trust anyone who turns their nose up at a radler, or a DIY shandy. Often, when I am putting pairings together, I look to perfume for inspiration and this is especially true when it comes to radlers. The dominant presence of aromatic acidity in these drinks—be it lemon, orange, grapefruit, pineapple, raspberry—lends itself perfectly to a subtle spice and warm earthiness that can be as easily sourced in a crisp aisle as it would a perfumery.

Examples: Schöfferhofer Grapefruit & Salt and Pepper Crisps, Paulaner Lemon Radler & Root Vegetable Crisps

Pilsner

Look, if you’re going to repeatedly describe a style as crisp you may as well pair it with some whilst you’re at it. Golden hour hued, seductively foamy, and with enough hop presence to conjure up images of freshly mown grass and getting up to no good amongst the hay bales, pilsners are popular for a reason. Teetering on the edge of sweetness without falling in, I think the bitter notes of Pilsners make perfect companions for the Italian triptych of soft cheese, aromatic basil and ripe tomatoes. Add the crunch and the crack of a crisp potato snack to all that? Now we’re talking.

Examples: Donzoko Donatello’s Italian Pilsner & Lay’s Pizza Hut Margherita Crisps, Lost and Grounded Keller Pils & Lidl’s Pesto Lattice Crisps

West Coast IPA

Thankfully I don’t need to get into the nitty-gritty of criteria for a west coast IPA because Matt’s got that one covered. Not shy in alcohol, bitterness or hop aromas there’s a lot to consider when pairing this style with food and I often see them paired up with spicier dishes, which I don’t necessarily agree with. The theory there is that the heat can stand up to the bitter notes of citrus pith and pine needles released from the American hops used which may work for some, but I prefer leaning towards something with a sweet and sharp acidity that can cut through the noise without exacerbating it.

Examples: Sierra Nevada Torpedo & Grace’s Lime Plantain Chips, Elusive Oregon Trail & Director’s Cut Green Chilli Poppadoms

Amber Ale

I always refer to amber ales as very kind beers. Like sitting next to an open fire after a long day, like the encouraging text from a friend when you’re about to do something brave, like a very good hug. A good balance between hops and malt in this style means lots of soft caramel, seville marmalade and garibaldi biscuits which, to me, make great and kind friends to rich and creamy cheeses. Softness melts strength and the two ooze together in companionable conversation.

Examples: Fuller’s London Pride & Bret’s Camembert Crisps , Black Sheep Amber Ale & Herr’s Buffalo Blue Cheese Curls

Mild

Good old mild. All teeth pulling on a stick of liquorice and ribbons of treacle poured into gingerbread and fingers searching through a pack of revels. The deep, malty body of mild beers are perfect for cask and therefore perfect for pubs and the snacks that have become intrinsically associated with them. Don’t think too hard about these styles, ‘what goes together grows together’ is a phrase used to direct terroir driven wine pairings, and I think this can be applied to what can be found together in your local, too. But for those wanting something a little less obvious I think the complexity of fermented, preserved fruit makes a good match for the sweet, fruit cake warmth of a good mild ale.

Examples: Timothy Taylor’s Dark Mild & Scampi Fries, Bathams Mild Ale & Koikeya Sweet and Sour Pickled Plum Crisps

Barley Wine

Big, boozy, beers have a very seductive perfume to them, barley wine always makes me think of biting into tiny marzipan figurines, walking down the sherried streets of Jerez, and adding layers of butter to thick slices of malt loaf. There’s lots of malt, caramel and dried fruit notes to be found in this style which often makes them fantastic dessert beers—a challenge then for those looking to pair them with the ever-savoury crisp course. When pairing food and drink together you want something that compliments as much as it contrasts, so think of food pairings that already exist and think about how you can recreate that with drinks instead. Salted nuts are often found adorning caramel heavy dishes, for example and boozy, dried fruits are often nestled amongst the spicy complexity of a treacle rich sponge.

Examples: Queer Brewing Endless Gloom & Walker’s Christmas Pudding Crisps, J W Lees Harvest Ale & Salted Peanuts

Gueuze

The champagne of beer, or so people like to tell me. A blended lambic known for its complex acidity and its insistence on pouring with a sparkle so sultry and provocative it’s captured the hearts of many, there are parallels to be made between the two, sure, but to do so entirely would reduce one to the shadow of the other. Gueuze varies from blender to blender, but there are often notes of searing grapefruit pith and the rind of a really good soft cheese and a long walk through the countryside on a late September’s evening. There are so many layers of flavours here which makes gueuze a brilliant opportunity to match with slightly trickier, umami flavours that often struggle to form harmonious pairings. Or, if you want to transport yourself to the streets of Brussels, look to some of Belgium’s traditional dishes for inspiration.

Examples: Cantillon Gueuze & Slabs Pan Fried Egg Crisps, Oude Geuze Boon & Chase Mussels in White Wine Kettle Chips

Fruit Sours

My food and drink pairing vision board takes many forms depending on the vibe I want to recreate. Remember there is no such thing as ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ when it comes to pairing, we are simply investigators of flavour playing around with different models until we find the ones that work for us. When I think of pairing fruit sours I often think of hot sauce. You know the ones. I’m talking about passion fruit mingled with habanero, and kiwi accompanying jalapeño. If it works for condiments beloved by boyfriends everywhere then why can’t it work in a beer and crisp pairing? Chilli heat is a tricky component to balance, and so is sour fruit, but one tentatively greets the other and before you know it you’ve got a combo everyone’s going to want a taste of.

Examples: Little Earth’s Blueberry Sour & Flamin’ Hot Cheetos, C’est Pastore French Daiquiri Sour & Crunchips X-Cut Chilli & Lime

Witbier

Soft and scented, like the embrace of a really good bubble bath, I wanted to take texture into account just as much as flavour with Witbier. Drinking one is reminiscent of opening up a well stacked spice drawer—layers of clove and cardamom, lemon peel and vanilla—and taking a walk along the beach at dawn, breaking waves gently lapping against your bare feet. The sharpness of a potato crisp almost feels too aggressive here, lightly puffed tapioca and heavily manufactured potato starch make for much more amicable textures. The perfumed aromatics of a Witbier make a great partner for seafood as well as complimenting the layered notes of sweet and salty condiments that need to be handled with care.

Examples: Queer Brewing Flowers Witbier & Skips, Allagash White & Worcestershire Sauce French Fries

Low and No Alcohol

When I told my friend I had no and low alcohol as a category he responded with “that’s not really a style though is it, it can cover all manners of beer” and he was right to say it. What I want to explore in this category though isn’t the style per se, but the absence of alcohol and what this means for food pairing. Alcohol exacerbates capsaicin, the active component in chilli which provides that burning sensation in our mouth, so too high an ABV with too spicy a dish and you’ve got all manners of hell roaring through your tastebuds. AF free styles, then, are a brilliant opportunity to start playing with foods higher in chilli and heat without the fear you may summon the devil himself in the process.

Examples: Lucky Saint & Takis Fuego, Wiper and True Alcohol Free Kaleidoscope & Seabrook’s Fire Eaters Scorchin’ Hot Crisps

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CRISPS FIRST

Ready Salted

To be a true crisp connoisseur you have to appreciate the art of a good ready salted crisp. The oil and salt need to be in perfect harmony, not too much that they coat your fingertips, but not too little that you may as well be eating a naked potato crisp. Salt is the friendliest mineral out there, getting on well with most dishes it comes across. But this isn’t an excuse for lazy, mindless pairings. Ready salted deserves as much care and consideration as the rest. Think about where you notice and appreciate salt the most—in ham when paired with pineapple on a pizza, crowning the thick layer of butter spread onto a hot cross bun, balancing out the sweet acidity of a rich marinara sauce—and think about how you can recreate this in a beer and crisp pairing.

Examples: Ready Salted Hula Hoops & Siren Expressions: Idaho 7 DDH IPA, Tesco’s Finest Ready Salted Crinkle Cut Crisps & Wilderness Where I’m Supposed To Be Flanders Red Ale

Cheese (and Onion)

I have to admit a personal bias here and say I really hate cheese and onion crisps, but I’m going to work hard to put my prejudice aside because I love you and I love crisps and it’s what you both deserve. Wine is often lauded as the perfect companion to cheese but from where I see it beer and cider often work better. Think of the components of a good Ploughman’s lunch. You’ve got your cheese, of course, and your pickled onion, then some good malty brown bread and some really aromatic chutney made with ripe summer fruits preserved for enjoyment in the winter months. There are qualities in this plate that can also be found in a pint glass, if you stop to take notice. Qualities complimentary enough to even make the most devout haters assess their stance on their least favourite flavours.

Examples: Tayto’s Cheese & Onion Crisps & Guinness, Quavers & Pilot’s Peach Melba Sour

Salt and Vinegar

It doesn’t matter how much you spend on salt and vinegar crisps, from the plain vinegar to the all frills chardonnay balsamic sherry cider vinegar they’re all going to have the same effect—making you viscerally aware of the small paper cut on the pad of your thumb you didn’t previously know about. That is to say that vinegar has an acidity that doesn’t fuck about, so neither should we when it comes to our pairings. I like using the sharp bite of a salt and vinegar crisp to challenge the aromatic bitterness and coax out the ripe fruit of an intensely hopped IPA. But if you’re not feeling so combative try using something softer and smoother as a balm.

Examples: Burton’s Fish ‘n’ Chips & Donzoko Oyster Stout, Salt ‘n’ Vinegar Chipsticks & Deya Saturated Single Hopped DIPAs

Prawn Cocktail

The darling of the 80s dinner party and the rose pink kiss of the crisp aisle, prawn cocktail crisps are as kitsch and garish as they come and I love them for it. Prawn cocktail has a strong personality—it’s fun, it’s vibrant, you’re three pints in and following it into the smoking area desperately hoping for an interaction—and I think it requires only a light seasoning to compliment, nothing that will take the limelight away. Think the brief squeeze of lemon over a bed of prawns and the sharp zest of lime in a marie rose sauce, generous and gracious in their simplicity.

Examples: Tyrell’s Posh Prawn Cocktail & Newbarns Special Lager Beer, Walker’s Max Strong Spicy Prawn Cocktail & Thornbridge Tzara

Roast Chicken

If I love you I will roast you a chicken. I will rub thyme, rosemary, garlic, chilli, ginger, lemon, grainy mustard and a very good olive oil into the skin and I will serve it with a very pungent aioli and an amber-hued wine that tastes like fleshy nectarines. So it is here I look to as a guide for what to pair with roast chicken flavoured crisps. Chicken is incredibly versatile here so you’ve got quite a few options. I like to look for something herbaceous to complement the provencal notes or I go for something rich in stone fruit and zesty acidity to serenade the subtle smoky, roasted tones.

Examples: Walker’s Sensations Roast Chicken and Thyme & The Kernel’s Table Beer, Lays Poulet Rôti & Allagash’s Once Upon An Orchard Wild Sour Saison With Peaches

Sweet Chilli

Sweet AND spicy, get you a crisp that can do both. A perfect pal to the salt and the oil of a good crisp, despite being a harmonious enough combination in itself we’re going to add another layer, with a beer, in an attempt to redefine the term balance when it comes to flavour. When in doubt, champagne, is a popular saying amongst sommeliers but I think when it comes to beer when in doubt, gose. Lots of acidity, the bite of coriander seeds and a gentle salinity make for a drink that compliments the most balanced of dishes without tipping any element over the edge. Sweet, spicy, salty, sour. Perfect.

Examples: Kettle’s Sweet Chilli and Sour Cream Crisps & Westbrook Gose, Seabrook’s Sweet Chilli Lattice Crisps & Dolphin Rocketeer Pineapple Gose

Sour Cream and Chive

You know those cheese biscuit selection boxes that have become synonymous with Christmas? There’s often a slightly denser, darker cracker with a real sweet maltiness that I’m always drawn to, it balances out the sharp tang of creamy cheese perfectly and I will devour round after round with little pause for breath. Sour cream and chive crisps, then, need something richer and honeyed to balance out the lactic acid and lucky for us there are plenty of beers that fit the bill.

Examples: Sour Cream and Chive Combo Mix & Purity English Heritage Best Bitter, Sour Cream and Onion Pringles & Timothy Taylor’s Knowle Spring Blonde Ale

Paprika

Paprika Pringles are my second favourite crisp, I can consume a whole tube in an embarrassingly short amount of time. The sweet, sharp, smokiness of paprika is so seductive to me and it cuts through the salt and the fat of a crisp so well. There’s lots of opportunity for play here. Think dusting paprika over pineapple before grilling it and pairing with one of those pale ales people describe as juicy, or recreating a really decadent chilli hot chocolate by adding a smoky, spicy layer to a low ABV chocolate stout.

Examples: Paprika Pringles & Beer Riff Flamingo Lingo New England Tropical Pale, Torres La Vera Smoked Paprika Crisps & Elusive Morrisman Double Chocolate Dry Stout

Smoky Bacon

When I wrote about scampi fries I received a lot of comments along the lines of ‘I cannot believe this bitch didn’t mention bacon fries once what the fuck.’ To which I thought well if you feel that strongly about it why don’t you pitch, research and write your own award winning long read on them. I didn’t want to write about bacon fries then! But I do now! It’s hard to translate the complexity of cured bacon into a crisp flavour, attempts often taste a little stale and dusty to me, what they’re crying out for is some acidity. Think of the ketchup or brown sauce zing you dollop over your bacon sandwich and try to find that in a beer. Or, if you want to level up, why not try a rauchbier or smoked beer to coax out more of those warm depths of flavour that people feel so strongly about.

Examples: Bacon Fries & Wilderness Life After Love Flanders Red, Smoky Bacon Crisps & Eko Black Smoked Porter

Pickled Onion

Pickled onions as a staple of the pub snacks, a must-have component of the Ploughman’s lunch and the flavour of choice for the ghouls and the extra-terrestrials of the crisp aisle. A soft crunch and a good tang without being too overpowering, I’ve been told that Orval makes a surprisingly brilliant companion to this style of crisps. The sharp bite of a good pickle sings alongside all manner of dishes so we can look to beers with a little more complexity, something sweet and spiced, something a little spooky perhaps. Something playful. Don’t overthink it. It’s just beer and crisps, after all.

Examples: Golden Wonder’s Pickled Bikers & La Chouffe Blonde, Space Raiders Pickled Onion & Southern Tier’s Pumking Imperial Ale

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