Hipsters and chipsters unite!

Are you forever on the lookout for the perfect tortilla chip? You've been eating Little Bear Bearitos and Frontera for a while now—the organic white and yellow corn chips that come from somewhere in California or Colorado. And the truth is, you occasionally break down and buy a monster bag of agribusiness because that's all you can find at the corner store.

But the other day you found a new brand on sale at the co-op: Whole Grain Milling Company tortilla chips. It turns out these organic, non-GMO, high-protein tortilla chips are the bomb, and you are not the first to notice: They were mentioned in McSweeney's, the hipster literary quarterly and webzine sprung from Dave Eggers' forehead. There they have been called "the most unbelievable and delicious yellow corn tortilla chips ever to feed mankind." We agree. They're delicately crunchy on the tooth, slightly oily on the tongue, with a hint of salt to perfection. They're like sunshine fried in unsalted butter.

And they're made right here, by the Hilgendorf family in Welcome, Minnesota!

You don't need to know where Welcome, Minnesota is. We don't. But we know you can get these chips at the Wedge and at Linden Hills coop, and you should go and get them now. Unfortunately, we have not yet discovered a salsa that is equal to these chips, but we've been known to gobble a whole bag without so much as a sip of water.

Ralph Hilgendorf, Whole Grain Milling Co., Box 78, Welcome, MN, 612.644.6265

Hey, you got your salt in my chocolate!

Chocolate is like Led Zeppelin. You just can't argue with the historic importance, the healing power, or the raw carnal pleasure of McElrath toffees or Black Dog's B-side

On the other hand, you don't need some sort of lame-ass recommendation, right? Some sort of a primer on percentage of pure cocoa content, right? These days, getting a chocolate tip is like a Zeppelin Rock Block on KQ.

Well, we were quietly pecking away at the computer just last night when the spouse dropped by and popped a small square of chocolate into our mouth. It was an Alice-in-Wonderland, down-the-rabbit-hole experience; a tiny orgasmic explosion of pure chocolate with a toothsome crunch like toasted rice—except that crunch came from little bits of delicious sea salt. (Because you're so smart, you are aware of how hip boutique salt has become in recent years: One person's iodized Morton is definitely not another's Fleur de Sel.)

What was this crazy, unique confection? It was a small wafer of Lake Champlain Chocolate, which comes from Vermont, but is carried locally by your finer grocers. You don't need to hear us prattle on about it, anymore than you need to hear "Stairway to Heaven" again on KQ. Just get your butt over to the Wedge and ask for the good stuff.

Lake Champlain Chocolates are available at Whole Foods and Kowalski's but we've historically bought 'em at The Wedge: www.wedge.coop, 2105 Lyndale Avenue South, Phone: 612-871-3993

You can also order the BIG bars online: www.lakechamplainchocolates.com