Say what you will about junk food, but you’ve got to admit, as a cuisine, it’s out of this world. Any recipe involving Velveeta, pie filling, a can of Coke, or all three is okay in my book. It’s an undervalued genre, but its contributions to gastronomy are too many and varied to deny. Today I enjoyed that superstar of the junk food kitchen: the potato chip sandwich.

“What is a potato chip sandwich?” you may wonder. Oh, my friend, your meals will never be the same again. Picture this: two slices of bread, two pieces of American cheese, and a fistful of potato chips. I’ll leave it to you to figure out the particulars of assembling this edible masterpiece, but I do recommend laying the chips between the slices of cheese. I did kind of bourgeois it up with multigrain bread, but if ever there were a recipe for Wonder Bread, this is it.

My sister, good sport that she is, assented to trying a bite. I actually had to go eat it in the living room, due to aforementioned sister. She’s working on an art project for class, and she’s been taking silhouettes of women and assembling various pictures of plastic surgery and raw meat on their bodies. The effect is… pretty disgusting. There I was, arranging my potato chips, deciding whether or not to spread chip dip on the bread, when out of the corner of my eye I see a photo of a human breast covered with “Cut here!” dashed lines. I start to carry my sandwich to the table but I’m assaulted by pictures of liposuctioned bellies, T-bone steaks, and gory-looking things I don’t even want to identify.

It’s all very lovely. Somehow even I lost my appetite for my potato chip sandwich.