Before we get into this latest nonsense, let me ask: What do chips and salsa have to do with the Trump administration’s habit of treating governance like a game of Hungry Hungry Hippos?
Well, as it turns out, everything.
RFK Jr.’s crusade against tortilla-based joy is more than just a bizarre attack on appetizers: it’s a perfect metaphor for the shotgun chaos coming our way when you let someone like Trump and his chosen “thinkers” take the wheel and aim for the nearest institutional pillar.
But let’s focus on the chips first, shall we?
Chips, Salsa, and the Collapse of Civilization
RFK Jr. wants to ban pre-meal chips and salsa because he claims they “destroy the integrity of a proper Mexican meal.” Apparently, in Kennedy-land, the real enemy of dining culture isn’t microwave quesadillas or overpriced, garbage, store-bought guacamole. It’s the handcrafted free stuff (Well, Maria’s charges for it, but never mind that for a minute). The thing that gets your mouth watering, builds anticipation for the enchiladas, and—dare I say it—unites us all in shared joy.
This, friends, is chaos for chaos’s sake. A solution in search of a problem. Much like the Trump administration’s approach to governance, this isn’t about fixing anything. It’s about flipping the checkerboard mid-game and pretending you had a strategy all along.
Take Maria’s on Main Street, for example. It’s a Grass Valley institution. We all go there. And we keep going back. Sure, the food is fine, but let’s be honest—we’re all there for the margaritas and the bottomless baskets of chips. They arrive at your table before you’ve even had a chance to ask, like a salty beacon of hope. But Kennedy’s new proposal? It would snatch that beacon away.
You start with the chips, then it’s the salsa. Next thing you know, someone’s telling you the margaritas are “too big” and “undermine the authentic dining experience.” Before long, Grass Valley is a town where joy goes to die.
The Trumpian Triumph?
Here’s where it gets interesting.
This isn’t just about tortilla chips. It’s about the broader trend of tearing down functional systems without bothering to build anything better in their place. You know, like the Trump administration’s attempts to dismantle regulations while simultaneously creating new bureaucratic nightmares because no one thought past the first step.
Take RFK Jr.’s war on chips as a microcosm. (Which, for those of you scratching your heads, means a small example of a larger problem. And yes, I did just explain that, because if you don’t know what “microcosm” means, odds are you’re also the type of person who thinks salsa is too spicy. Let’s continue.)
Instead of fixing the actual problems with dining culture (like why some places charge $8 for a thimble of guac), he’s decided to nuke the one thing that works: the communal joy of a free appetizer. It’s like the Trump playbook: attack something functional—healthcare, environmental protections, the postal service—and replace it with… nothing. Or worse, chaos masquerading as reform.
Maria’s chips-and-salsa situation is the culinary equivalent of the regulatory state under Trump. Sure, you could tweak it to make things better. Maybe add a queso option. But banning it outright? That’s just kicking over the table and calling it innovation.
Locals Rally for the Right to Dip
Grass Valley isn’t taking this lying down—unless it’s in a post-margarita food coma, of course. Maria’s is hosting a Chips-and-Salsa Solidarity Night, where locals can double-dip with abandon and raise a margarita (or three) to the sanctity of pre-meal snacks. Organizers say the event will feature live mariachi music, unlimited chips, and a raffle for a year’s supply of guacamole—a direct rebuke to Kennedy’s nonsense.
One frequent Maria’s margarita fan, Cheryl Sharons, summed it up.
“This is about more than chips. It’s about freedom, tradition, and sticking it to anyone who thinks they can tell us how to eat. If RFK Jr. wants to fight about it, he can meet me in the parking lot with a side of queso.”
Loretta’s (sorry for the third person) Final Thoughts: A Broken System Isn’t Fixed by Breaking It More
So here’s the thing: chips and salsa aren’t the problem. They never were. But taking them away is the kind of small, pointless disruption that gets us used to losing things we didn’t think anyone would touch—like how you boil a frog slowly so it doesn’t notice the heat.
RFK Jr., if you’re listening (and let’s be honest, you’re not), maybe leave the chips alone and focus on something that actually matters. Or better yet, grab a margarita, enjoy the damn salsa, and stay out of Grass Valley’s business.
And to the rest of us? Don’t let them take your chips. It starts with appetizers, but who knows where it ends. First, it’s chips. Then it’s salsa. Next, they’ll tell us the margaritas are too big. By the time we notice the water’s boiling, it might already be too late.
