This is the newest flavor in the Sun Chips line, available only at Subway in a non-compostible bag that won’t cause early onset deafness. It’s supposed to be in conjunction with their fire-inspired line of rehashed sandwich combinations, but I don’t really see the relation aside from a well-placed promotion. I have to say, though, this is the most exciting chip flavor I’ve seen this side of Pringles Restaurant Cravings. Just kidding. Pringles are Satan’s spawn.This is an interesting flavor and seems to be leaning towards the Italian side of seasonings. Why it’s paired with spicy foods, I do not know. But this bastard hybrid chip is pretty decent, as far as chips go. The tomato and cheese are both present in the composition, but pretty weak. I’d have never assumed the tomato was sun-dried, when I got a rare hint of tomato flavor, and am getting more of a cheese appropriate to Chuck E Cheese than an aged monterey. Eh. I didn’t expect anything surprising.What did blow my mind, as much as Sun Chips can blow anyone’s mind, was how much the flavors clashed not with each other, but with the natural flavor of the Sun Chip. Sun Chips are one of the few chips I eat without any added seasonings, preferring their natural buttery and salty flavor over one laden with powder, and the nuttiness of the chip seemed to make the monterey taste weak and overly processed. It was just an unrequited pairing. If the flavors had been on another chip base, it might have passed as a decent pizza flavoring. If the cheese was different, it might have melded more seamlessly with the chip. I liked these, and they went fabulously with Keepitcoming’s WASP soup, but they’re a little misguided in their direction. They need a makeover or a high school guidance counselor to set them on their way.