21 International Lays Potato Chip Flavors, Ranked Worst To Best

Few chips are as iconic on store shelves as Lay's. The time-tested recipe of crisp, crunchy, slightly greasy chips has made them a beloved member of snack time around the world. While I'm more than happy to snarf a bag of a Lay's Sour Cream & Onion, which is a reliable crowd favorite, I was intrigued by the possibility of other Lay's flavors. After all, the brand operates in many different countries, and most of them have a portfolio that includes unique flavors reflecting specific cultures or cuisines.

I managed to get my hands on 21 unique Lay's flavors to sample and rank them. I based my ranking on texture, flavor, and general impression. From the novel to the outlandish and everywhere in between, here's my ranking that includes flavors that are worth adding to your cart and those that should be avoided at all costs.

It was with the utmost trepidation that I opened this bag of durian-flavored chips. In fact, I saved this bag for last. For those who don't know the facts about durian, this pungent fruit is infamous for its stink. And stink this bag did.

The aroma of these chips –– which was ripe and unpleasant –– overpowered the flavor. The small taste I managed to get before spitting it out was sweet, but overwhelmingly repugnant. I was thankful I had saved this flavor for last because I doubt I would've been able to power ahead if I had sampled it earlier. Without a doubt, the durian flavor ended in last place (and made me wonder why I had committed myself to trying it in the first place.)

The hits just kept coming. When I opened the bag, I was met with an incredibly fishy scent, the kind that makes you turn around and walk out of a seafood restaurant if you encounter it. The pungent aroma made me recoil. Since flavor is a combination of taste and aroma, I already knew this one wasn't going to fare well.

While you may not know the difference between shrimp and prawn, I can assure you that prawn-flavored potato chips, combined with the taste of melted cheese, is just bad. These flavors did not go together in any way, shape, or form. The nausea I felt after trying one of these chips forced me to take a break before I persevered. 

Rounding out the bottom three was the Fried Crab flavor. Interestingly enough, this bag didn't contain actual crab, but was instead flavored with flatfish and clam. Go figure. Following the debacle of the Baked Prawn with Melted Cheese chips, I was hesitant to move forward with this one. As it turned out, that was for good reason.

These chips also smelled fishy, although not quite as strongly as the previous bag. I tried to quell my nausea and force myself to take at least a little nibble. The flavor of these is impactful –– very fishy, very bold. If you like fried crab, these may be your jam. As for me, I was not a fan.

What made these chips most interesting is that, instead of being made from potatoes, the chips in question are made from taro. The purple-flecked root vegetable is native to Southeast Asia and has a subtly sweet, earthy, and nut-like flavor.

Unfortunately, I didn't get much sweetness or nuttiness. In fact, I didn't get much at all. When I ripped open this bag, I smelled pepper, but also floral notes. Upon tasting one massive chip, I couldn't detect any pepper. Or any salt, for that matter. Not a whiff, not a hint. The chip itself also stuck to my teeth, giving this a strikeout on the flavor, texture, and accuracy fronts. The only reason these didn't land at the bottom was because they weren't stomach-churning.

This bag was a tricky one. When I hear Italian red meat, I think of something like a bolognese sauce. It should be hearty, meaty, and full of herbaceous flavor. These chips, however, were almost indescribable. There was a strange, off-putting aroma when I tore open the bag. When I ate a chip, there was a bit of meatiness, but it also tasted old. A touch of smoke at the front disappeared into a bland nothingness.

These chips were described as having zesty Italian spices, but unless ginger and onion are inherently Italian, I disagree. I wanted oregano, basil, garlic. Instead, these Italian Red Meat chips dropped down the ranking due to their bland flavor and unpleasant smell.

Wagyu beef is an expensive cut of meat and there are a few things you should look for when buying it yourself. Fortunately for me, a bag of Wagyu beef-flavored chips was a lot cheaper. This may be because there was no actual beef in the seasoning, which meant that even this vegetarian could have a taste.

These chips had a savory smell — more of a generic meatiness than anything I would describe as beefy. These were the first thick, ruffled chips I tried, which offered a nice crunch and contrast to the previous flavors. Overall, I wanted more. It was kind of bland with an aftertaste reminiscent of fryer oil. It earns its spot due to its crunchy texture alone.

The saying "everything's bigger in Texas" clearly extends to chips, because these Texas Grilled BBQ chips were gigantic! While the taro chips were the largest of all, this flavor had the hugest chips of the potato variety.

When I hear BBQ chips, I think sweet, tangy, and smokey. There's maybe a sprinkle of spice, but nothing spicy. These chips had some smokiness, but there was zero sweetness and nary a touch of tang. It seems that Lay's really leaned into the grilled part of this name and ignored the BBQ. These chips were greasier than others but tasted and looked lightly seasoned. 15 is where it belongs because it was a step up from bland and the chip size was respectable.

This bag packed those supersized taro chips but thankfully provided more flavor than the Sea Salt & Black Pepper. While the label said Lemon, the image on the bag was clearly a lime, and that carried over into the flavor.

These chips were incredibly citrus-forward, both in smell and taste. The lime itself wasn't like fresh, zesty lime, though. Instead, it was more candy-adjacent, with a lip-smacking artificiality I didn't much enjoy. They were heavily seasoned, with a coating that rubbed off on my fingers. Unlike potato chips, taro chips don't disintegrate after a few chews. These stuck to my teeth with an unpleasant starchiness. Lemon Taro chips nabbed the fourteenth spot because the flavor was kind of interesting, but the texture ruined it.

Another beef-flavored chip, another ingredient list with exactly zero beef on the label. One of the best things about pho is its nuanced, layered, and complex flavor. Trying to cram all that into a potato chip is no easy task. While Lay's gives its best effort with the Hanoi Beef Pho flavor from Vietnam, it falls a bit flat.

These chips have more beefiness than the Wagyu Beef flavor, but it ends abruptly on the tongue. The flavor begins and then just sort of cuts off –– a far cry from the rich, robust notes of quality pho. This bag was just okay. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't good. You're better off learning how to make restaurant-quality pho at home and leaving these on the shelf.

Unlike the other meat-flavored chips on this list, Lay's Roasted Chicken Wing potato chips actually contained chicken powder. Owing to that, I deferred to my husband to sample these. These were a thicker cut, with generous ridges that held onto all that seasoning powder. And boy, that seasoning powder was strong!

The first whiff of these chips reminded me of instant ramen, which carried over into the flavor. My husband described them as tasting like the Mr. Noodles interpretation of chicken. He didn't find these chips salty –– which is what I'd expected –– but found them very dry, like dry ramen seasoning. If that's your vibe, you might dig these chips, but they didn't make it past the middle of this ranking.

Before I tried these chips, I had no idea what latiao was. As it turns out, latiao is a popular Chinese street food made of fried strips of dough coated in a spicy chili pepper powder. They're tangy, spicy, and chewy.

I noticed this flavor was given two out of three chili peppers, so I prepared for some heat. They had a strong savory aroma with that ubiquitous chili kick at the end. As someone who isn't great at handling heat, I girded my taste buds. At first, they weren't too spicy, with an almost sweet flavor that tickled me. As I swallowed, the heat crept up. All that seasoning powder gets tucked inside those thick ridges for a pretty powerful snack. As someone who's spice-averse, I can't give these higher than a middle ranking, but I respect the effort.

These beer-flavored Lay's from Taiwan are a great novelty buy, with the bag designed to look like an overflowing pint of lager. But, beyond a bit of a laugh, are they actually any good? Well, that sort of depends.

First, yes, these do smell and taste like beer. The scent is reminiscent of lager with sweet, malty notes, but the taste is sweeter than the standard beer. The beer flavor largely comes through in the aftertaste rather than up-front. While I love to wash down salty chips with a cold bottle of suds, these chips are incredibly sweet. It's a strange disconnect between my brain and my mouth, knowing that chips should be salty and getting something sweet instead. This flavor only cracked the top ten for its novelty factor and the fact that I wouldn't mind trying it alongside an actual beer to compare.

Another sweet chip comes in the form of these lime-flavored Lay's. When I opened this bag, I was smacked in the face with a lime-forward scent. I mean, it was bordering on cleaning solution-level strong. When I put this chip in my mouth, I noticed it was the closest in texture to the Lay's I've grown up with: Thin and crispy, with a melt-in-your-mouth quality.

When it came to taste, these chips were sweet. As they're marketed as lime-flavored, I wanted more sourness, tartness, and tang. Instead, I got a mouthful of artificial lime sugar dusted across some fried potatoes. (A look at the ingredient list might show the culprits: Aspartame and steviol, two sugar substitutes.) I wanted some salt with these chips, a tang of fresh lime, and maybe a bit of tequila. Okay, so I guess I wanted margarita-like chips instead. Lay's, take note.

I have to say, I am a fan of these rippled Lay's chips. They have a wonderful crunch and thicker texture that really lets you know you're eating a chip and not some ephemeral snack food. These Grilled Pork potato chips were no exception. When I opened the bag, I was greeted with a meaty, robust aroma. Rather than an artificial smoke flavor scenting the air, I could actually detect notes similar to grilling. When it came to the taste, however, I was slightly less impressed.

Full disclosure: I haven't eaten meat in decades. That being said, I did not taste any porkiness in these chips. There was the tiniest prick of heat from the chili powder at the end, but it wasn't anywhere near spicy. If I was on the hunt for pork-flavored chips, I think that I'd be disappointed with these ones. The texture is great, the smell is good, but the taste doesn't quite match.

When I picked up these chips, I wondered what the difference was between Japanese-style seaweed and regular seaweed. I still haven't found the answer, but I found something good in these ruffled potato chips.

These smelled a bit seaweed-esque when I opened the bag –– like subtle brininess. However, the aroma was mostly overtaken by that of kettle chips. I don't know if russet potatoes are used for this flavor, but the smell definitely gave off a dark, cooked potato vibe. That carried through to the taste, which was slightly briny, but again, mostly tasted like a kettle chip. This was the flavor I tasted after the abysmal Baked Prawn with Melted Cheese, so its subtlety was a bit of a relief, and likely what allowed this bag to rise so high.

Similar to the Japanese Style Seaweed, I was intrigued at what was Mexican about these Mexican Tomato Chicken chips. These chips smelled very tomato-forward with a soy sauce base note. Upon first bite, I noticed that it was pretty similar to your standard barbecue chip and then, out of nowhere, there was a pop of bright, sweet tomato. I even wrote "pow!" in my notes — the taste was so forceful and surprising. That alone brought this flavor up a few spots. So, why is it not in the top five?

There was zero chicken element in here, and also nothing Mexican about it. There was tomato, which was sweet but not bordering dessert-like, but that was it. For failure to live up to its name, six is where these chips belong.

Slightly more accurate on the naming front was this bag of Numb & Spicy Hot Pot Lay's. With a moniker like that, I was expecting tingling lips and a desperation for water after a single bite. What I actually received didn't quite reach those heights, but it was still okay.

These chips were the only ones with tiny ridges, unlike any of the other ruffled chips. According to the ingredients list, the spice comes from chili and Sichuan pepper powder, but what I tasted the most was cumin. The cumin actually overpowered the rest of the spice with its warm flavor, which sort of dulled the numb and spicy aspect. These chips had a better balance than any of the previous flavors, with a nice amount of heat without overdoing it.

If you're looking for heat, skip the Numb & Spicy Hot Pot and head straight to the Hot Chicken Noodle. With three chili peppers on the bag, this flavor offers snackers fair warning about what they're going to taste.

These chips began sweet at first, with a gradual building of heat from the front of my mouth to the back. They were savory and spicy and had a hint of nuttiness, which I thought came from sesame seeds, although none were listed in the ingredients (despite being on the picture on the bag). I have a low spice tolerance, which is why these didn't make it past fourth place, but those who like heat will enjoy this crunchy chip.

Do not kiss or breathe on anyone after eating these chips –– seriously. These babies were pungent. An incredibly garlicky aroma emanated from the bag and that was echoed in the taste. These were garlicky, cheesy, and strong. To be very clear: They didn't taste like garlic bread, nor were they quite like roasted garlic, as they lacked the subtle sweetness that comes from drenching a bulb in oil and baking it in the oven. This truly tasted like garlic salt generously dusted over crunchy, crispy potato chips –– and I wasn't mad about it.

This flavor may be a polarizing one because you have to be a big fan of garlic to enjoy it. Fortunately, I am, which is why it's in the top three.

Following up on the strength of the aroma and flavor of the Garlic Salt was the polar opposite: Kelp Salt. These, unlike their predecessor, did not have such a strong scent. There was a touch of brininess, as though I was standing near the sea. When I tasted them, there was a similarly oddly refreshing quality. They weren't salty the way you think salted chip would be, but they weren't plain, either. There was a slight sweetness to them that balanced its oceanic quality (and by that I mean ocean waters, not fish, thankfully). I kept going back to these chips because I couldn't put my finger on why I enjoyed them as much as I did. They intrigued my taste buds enough to be a runner-up.

After consuming so many chips (and so much sodium), we have finally arrived at our number one: Cucumber. Yes, the modest vegetable that adds a refreshing crunch to both spa water and salads is our champion.

There was a strong cucumber aroma to these chips, sort of like cucumber rolls found at a sushi restaurant. And, for such a humble veggie, these chips managed to capture their flavor. They were slightly sweet, fresh, and crunchy. The chips themselves were classic Lay's –– thin, crispy, and not too oily. Unlike the previous fish-flavored chips, the 50% smell-50% taste did this bag a good turn, making the overall impact balanced and complex. As far as international Lay's flavors go, this was my hands down winner.

When I was determining the ranking of these international Lay's chips, I had a few things to consider. First, the flavor. Not only was label accuracy important, but overall palatability. Would I want to eat these chips again? Could they replace my beloved sour cream and onion? Very few managed to reach either of those criteria. Next was texture. I wanted a snappy, crisp chip. Oiliness and greasiness were not the name of the game here. Finally, overall satisfaction was taken into account. If I wouldn't come back for another bite, the chip did not rise through the ranks.