The Quest

The potato.

Scientific name: Solanum Tuberosum. (In my head, this name is said with the same inflection as "wingardium leviosa," the levitation charm from Harry Potter).

Despite being a most versatile tuber, it is the french fry that made me fall in love with this spud. French fries take a variety of forms, from steak fries to shoestrings, waffles to crinkle cut, and who can forget the curly fry? For the lowbrow, you can top them with ketchup, malt vinegar, or smother them in cheese, bacon and ranch dressing. For a classier version, you can dip your fry in aioli. And I can confidently say that I've not yet met a fry I didn't like.

But for this quest, some ground rules do need to be established. So here goes:

1. I will rate the fries based on appearance, taste and texture. A 5-pt. scale will likely be used.
2. I will account for type of fry (steak, shoe-string, etc.) and only compare like with like, although my "best" fry will be the king of them all, regardless of type.
3. I will also note the setting or type of place in which the fry is consumed (diner, chain restaurant, fast-food, pub, etc.). No type of fry will be excluded, including home made ones, so if you feel like cooking your own special french fries for me, feel free!

That'll suffice as a starting point. Based on previous experience, I expect the best fries to appear in a bar, likely a local, dingy one. For some reason, they always seem to have superior fries. Diners will come next, and last would be chain restaurants. I'm also partial to what I call the "regular" fry. It's the same size and shape as a crinkle-cut, without the crinkles. I'm also not usually a fan of steak fries, though I must say, the Potato Patch at Kennywood makes a mean steak fry.

For anyone wanting a history of the french fry, I encourgage you to go here.

Today's wit: A hungry traveller stops at a monastery and is taken to the kitchens. A brother is frying chips. 'Are you the friar?' he asks. 'No. I'm the chip monk,' he replies.