I am a huge fan of potatoes. In all forms. At any meal. At all hours of the day or evening. And when I meet a fellow potato lover, I always seem to find a true connection. You might even say it’s deep rooted. Ha!
But seriously… what is it about those carby cubes, Hasselback hotties or fantastic fries that I enjoy so much? If you ask me it’s everything! I love the texture of creamy whipped mashed potatoes, the crunch of oven baked smashed spuds, the fun dippable nature of a huge waffle fry, and the loaded with good toppings cross section of a twice baked stuffed potato. And don’t even get me started with potato skins! Yum. With potatoes you just can’t go wrong.
I actually have to stop myself at meals and limit my choice to just one kind of potato if I’m daring to have a carb. But check out this chick who throws caution to the wind when making her dinner. Finding a fellow spud lover makes my heart full!
The choice to be a potato purist is not really a choice, as you well know. You either have an affinity for these tubers or their magic is just lost on you. But the chance to shine as a potato junkie is rarely filled with pride. When a server approaches your table and asks the dreaded question, “What side would you like with your meal?” you just know she’s thinking, “Get a salad, honey”, as she ogles your double chin. So do you sit up proud and strong and ask for the delicious looking sweet potato fries or do you cave and sheepishly succumb to the hell that is iceberg lettuce? You tell me, because us spud buddies find strength in numbers and we have to stick together.
You have to admire people under the age of 30 who loudly proclaim fries as their side without so much as a thought. And take a gander at this bold diner who took his waiter’s suggestion literally. You have to applaud the courage!
Someone recently asked me about my death row meal. We were deep in a conversation about foods you just can’t get enough of. My issue is that there are so many foods that I love that I think the courts would have to postpone the needle a bit until I could finally settle on a suitable last few bites. But now that I’ve had time to truly consider the ask, five kinds of potatoes seem like a fitting final salute.
I’d pick fries from Café Varenne in Paris, a gluttonous scoop of golden mashed potatoes from Parc in Philly, a fully loaded baker oozing with butter, sour cream, cheese, and bacon from Ocean Prime in NYC, Hasselback potatoes on a stick from any good street fair or carnival, and the mountain of super crispy seasoned waffle fries they serve at Wollensky’s Grill in NYC. Ok, and maybe I’d have to add an insanely good cheeseburger from Au Cheval or Hamburger America on the side. Because as we all know, spuds love company. Especially mine.
It doesn’t matter if you’re a diehard orderer or an occasional thief of tater tots from an adjacent neighbor. Potatoes aren’t offended if you share their bounty or devour the whole portion yourself. And they don’t get jealous if different variations are on the same plate. Spuds are inclusive. If you ask me, we could all learn a thing or two from a few french fries.
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