This is something that needs the immediate attention of Lays Chips (PepsiCo). In the last 7 days, I have observed and been through four cases of intense sickness and dehydration followed by visits to hospitals and Emergency Rooms after eating Lays American Style Cream and Onion chips (the green packet).
Case 1. My nephew (aged 7) got a packet of Lays American Style Cream and Onion in Bangalore on Nov 1 and had it at around 7 pm. From 12 am, he started throwing up. He had eaten only home-cooked food for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. The only thing outside of his normal food routine was this packet of Lays American Style Cream and Onion chips. He threw up 8 times throughout the night. He was given medication, ORS, but nothing worked because he was just too sick and threw up anything that was given to him.
He was taken to the doctor in the morning and given medicines.
Case 2. My sister-in-law ate Lays American Style Cream and Onion chips on Nov 2 and had a violent case of nausea and sickness. She had had basic home food and nothing apart from this packet of chips. She too had to be given medicines and ORS.
Case 3. My son (aged 5) bought a packet of Lays American Style Cream and Onion from Namdhari’s in Bangalore, Whitefield at 12 pm last Friday, Nov 4 and had them. We came back home and he had a very light home-cooked lunch. At around 5 pm, he started to throw up violently. His lips became dry immediately and we administered ORS. He threw up multiple times and was extremely dehydrated. He had to be given medicines and ORS until the next day. Note that everyone else in the family was fine and he was the only one to have eaten the chips.
Case 4. My friend got a packet of the same Lays American Style Cream and Onion on Nov 7 and had it in her office. Almost immediately, she started throwing up and had to be taken to the hospital where she was put on saline drips until late night because she was too dehydrated from the violent throw ups. She is still weak today and is on rest.
Mapping all the cases together, the only common factor here is Lays, specifically the American Style Cream and Onion chips. I urge Pepsico to please look into either their ingredients, or the hygiene of the manufacturing units or particular batch numbers for clarification before more people go through this ordeal.
Eating icecream with a four-year old is a hilarious event in itself. However, all my sympathies and empathies lie with the icecream being discussed. The creamy journey of its life turns out to be pretty bad if it falls in the hands of a 3 or a 4 year old. This is what happens.
We buy an icecream. The stick comes out of the icecream wrapper which gets crumpled within a flash of a second, and I hear ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ and slurps of visual satisfaction as the entire icecream makes its grandiose show. Ryan looks at it from all angles trying to decide which is the best bet for the first lick.
Me: ‘Eat it fast. It will melt.’
My words fall just next to where the icecream wrapper was thrown a few seconds back.
After a complete visual survey, Ryan licks it. His eyebrows shoot high. His eyes become wider while his lips spread to his ears on both sides. I hear a never-ending ‘ummmmmmmmmmm’ which makes me take a sly look at the icecream. I find it still holding itself strong.
Somewhere close by, I hear the loud squeak of a squirrel. Ryan’s icecream reverie is almost broken and he looks up at a suspected tree with queer eyes. I notice the white droplet of icecream on his nose. One look at the icecream and I see it drip. One drop falls on the ground. A white circle; radius, circumference, and area undetermined.
That’s the beginning.
It’s starting. It’s starting to melt. It’s starting to melt.
The first tissue comes out of the wad that I bring along for our icecream sojourns. The top of the icecream is the low hanging fruit for him, and he works at it faster. I remind him that the bottom of the stick also needs some attention.
Me: ‘Eat the lower side too. It will melt.’
He looks at the lower side of the icecream. His warm mushy looks melt the lower end which rivers down his right hand, right down to the elbow. Had it been a few decades earlier with the same scene between me and my mom, by now I would have got a resounding whack on my back reminding me to eat it faster.
I am a more patient mother.
More tissues come out from the thinning wad, this time faster, one pulling the other, and the other pulling out more of the others frantically.
Racing against a trickling icecream is a tricky job for a mom. Jumping to my feet, I run to the store next to me and get a paper plate to hold the gathering white puddle. The icecream is in sad danger.
Soon I realize that the paper plate is not enough to hold the white liquid. It needs depth. I run back to the store and get a paper glass this time. What a strange turn of incidents for the icecream. The unsuspecting big bodied thing gets reduced to a mere colorless puddle that is collected in a paper glass.
Finally, it’s time. The momentous moment when the icecream soup is to be sipped. And it gets sipped.
The icecream. gets. sipped.
Here ends the sad life of an otherwise cool icecream.
Unfortunately, I don’t have a pic of the icecream being sipped because I was too busy wiping my hands off the sticky liquid.