Pomme de Terrible

The Belgians might have invented the illustrious “French” fry, but it is the United States of America that turned it into the greasy mass-produced spudtacular saline experience that we crave each and every day. In a political climate that often finds itself devoid of real and genuine, hard-pressing journalistic content, we wanted to bravely channel the College of William and Mary’s genius “For the Bold” slogan by discussing the most controversial question of all — a question some might say is unthinkably outside of the Overton Window and in the realm of extremists — that which french fry reigns superior, and which french fry is a “pomme de terrible.”

GAVIN AQUIN // FLAT HAT MAGAZINE

GAVIN AQUIN // FLAT HAT MAGAZINE

Let’s set the scene. 

It’s 2pm on a Friday. A food journey is imminent, but the rain threatens to prematurely end the spudventure of a lifetime. Nevertheless we persist. Lizzy W would be proud. We start our day outside of the Richmond Road Chick-Fil-A, mapping out our route. Where willwould the smell of industrial grease take us? Only the potato fates and our Google overlords could tell us. We film an Instagram Story update for our adoring fans and begin our enlightenment. 

Some snags in the road:

  1. Pulling up to Wendy’s on Richmond Road, asking for small fries, and only receiving the response, “Sorry, we aren’t taking orders right now.” Immediately, we had to change our route and venture to the Wendy’s on Monticello. Another tragedy in America. 

  2. Gavin, a newly minted 21 year old, wanted a plastic pint of Stella Artois (another fabulous export of Belgium) at Paul’s. Sadly, he did not remember this until after we left.

  3. Driving on Francis Street, a car with the tags stating “DISOBEY” was ahead of us. Tragically, they chose to obey traffic laws by going ten under the posted speed limit on a one lane road — and they say that humour and irony are dead in modern America. We were eventually able to return to campus after they decided to drive on the wrong side of Confusion Corner. In America, we drive on the right, mate. Maybe they were more subversive than we gave them credit for. 

Enough dilly-dallying. Let us explain our methodology. We went to every french fry place we could think of off the top of our heads. We endeavoured to taste each wedge and rate them based on the categories of texture and flavour — taking into account the salt and seasoning of each fry for our very scientific study. Potatoes were harmed in the writing of this article. Come after us, tuber rights activists. 

McDonald’s

Where do we begin? McDonald’s french fries are arguably the most well-known taste in America, if not the world. Think about it — is there any other french fry whose taste you can recall from memory? Unless you are a grade-A certified liar, the answer is probably no. The perfect amount of salt, and the perfect shape. They are the kind of french fry that you could keep eating forever, no matter how many you have already consumed. No amount of McDonald’s fries is too much. Our only issue is that we were egregiously and unbelievably notified that the location we went to did not sell Shamrock Shakes on St. Paddy’s Day. The literal audacity. Gavin cried. Do better, Richmond Road McDonald’s. 

Chick-Fil-A

Although these fries are the exact opposite of McDonald’s fries in terms of potatosity, the fries fulfil a similar need in terms of saltiness. In all honesty, we probably would have ranked them higher than McDonald’s if we literally didn’t hate the company and everything they stood for. Waffle is a cool shape though. 

Cookout

Cookout fries literally taste like someone went to a farm and murdered a literal potato, and then sold it to us — but in a good way. Do not fret. This is a Cookout household, and we respect their french fries. By this, we mean that they are overflowing with potatoey goodness — thereby titillating our taste buds — in a way no other drive-thru could. Consensually, of course. Extra points for the low prices, big portions, and the presence of Cheerwine. Marry us, Cookout? Please?

Wendy’s 

Wendy’s is like that ex-boyfriend that you didn’t really like, but you go back because it’s kind of convenient, not gonna lie. Their issue, however, lies in the quality of the experience. Bland, kind of salty, and lacking that ultimate oomph to make you actually want to return with permanence. At least they cut their hamburgers in a square. Otherwise we might not ever think to distinguish them from literally any of their competition. 

Wawa

Wawa is playing hard to get with their fries. They’re only available from 4pm to 12am, which leaves out just about all of the times we would ever want fries. Wawa needs to understand their target demographic, especially close to a college campus. When will they cater to us 2am lost souls who just finished a midterm paper and want the amazingly seasoned Wawa fries? Maybe we’ll have to keep taking our business to McDonalds…. But really quickly, let’s just say that the fries had a surprisingly tasty smoky flavour. If only we could ever eat them at a time convenient for us.

Arby’s

Gavin wants us to just write “ugly,” but let’s give Arby’s some credit. At least their checkout still worked, unlike the Wendy’s right next door. But for real, it was a curly fry that was surprisingly not too greasy. Not a bad experience all around.

Paul’s Deli Restaurant

Paul’s Deli has great cheese fries. Amazing cheese fries. Spectacular cheese fries. Shareable cheese fries. Cheese fries so good that they inspire you to walk through questionable paths in the woods and call your boyfriend saying you want a divorce even though you aren’t married. The only issue with these amazing cheese fries is that you need to have had an unhealthy amount of “the devil’s water” before the experience is an enjoyable one. Also, just between us friends, we recommend you eat them in just a few minutes because the cheese congeals incredibly quickly. Otherwise, your esophagus might turn around and ask you for a divorce.

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