So I was in Brussels a couple weeks ago, trying out my new Italian accent in French, and felt obligated to eat some French fries and drink beer made by monks. I stayed in a youth hostel to the north of the city and got a funky, youth oriented tourist map from them that had a couple locations labeled as 'the best fries in Brussels'. I picked one that was basically just a little trailer pulled up in the plaza behind a church. There was the smell of hot grease, a confounding list of toppings choices and a huge mound of once fried, thick cut fries, ready to be popped back in the oil.
I have to admit, I was expecting thinner fries; these were nice meaty steak cut style fries, and definitely tasted like potato. Actually, my first bite was sort of mediocre. I was disappointed, they seemed a little bit limp, and the deliciousness factor was low, even smeared with mayonnaise. Eating fries with mayo is a habit I picked up in Guinea, I love it. But there I was with a lap full of hot potato product, resigned to pick out the crunchiest bits and make it through at least half of what I'd paid for.
Five fries later I started thinking "wow, this tastes a LOT better than the first bite!" By the time I had made my way to the bottom of the paper dish, I was relishing every bite, and I wiped up the very last of the mayo with a hint of regret that it was over. I don't know how they could get better as I ate my way through them, but in the end, those were some of the best french fries I've ever eaten.
Friday, May 30, 2008
Belgian Fries
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