Fries and Mayo

I remember the first time I ever experienced the fry/mayo combo. It was at a wine festival in Germany where I was served a paper cone of fries with mayonnaise. As a young American, I thought it strange not only be served mayo with my fries, but I was equally baffled to have been given a fork with which I was expected to enjoy this, as I knew it, traditional finger food. With a twisted face and a “what the hell” attitude, I took my first bite. I was so pleasantly surprised that this became my standard order for the rest of my trip. Since I've experienced this tasty pairing, I've been on the look out for comparable fry/mayo combos. Where nothing has been the same to date, I have certainly found other equally pleasing offerings.

I recently went to my friend's French restaurant Entre Nous, in Seattle, where I had some of his Pommes Frites, literally translated "fried potatoes". He makes his frites from scratch every day, cutting the fresh Idaho potatoes lengthwise with his chef's knife into half-inch thick sticks, leaving the skin on. These massive strips of lightly seasoned fried potatoes are served with the house-made aioli, the classic French garlic and citrus mayonnaise. Each time I dip into to this thick, yellow goodness it makes my toes curl with pleasure from the first bite to the last.

The Market Street Grill, in the Seattle neighborhood of Ballard, is another place I go to get my fry-fix. This restaurant is a hidden jewel that surprisingly has stayed that way for the majority of its eight years in business. (You can read more about The Market Street Grill in my up-coming review in this blog). From the bar menu, they serve a Kobe Beef Cheeseburger and Fries. The presentation of the burger is elegant with three ramekins of the expected (and in this case the necessary) sauces of catsup, a garlic mayo and mustard. I have long been a fan of their burgers. They're the perfect meal for this occasionally iron deficient recovered vegetarian.

But let's get to the real issue at hand, the fries. These long, blond, crispy strips of fried heaven, when dipped into the garlic mayo, cause one to slow down to savor the creamy, thick, and slightly tangy dressing in contrast to the crackle of the perfectly-cooked spuds. Unless you're dining with a close friend or family member, I would highly recommend that you each get your own burger, due to the fair amount of double-dipping that will be happening during this meal.

Whether you are dining alone or with a friend, I’m sure you’ll find yourself in the same predicament that am; it takes a lot of restraint not to have one, if not multiple burgers in a given week for fear that my thighs will soon resemble a dish of cottage cheese. However, on that once-a-month occasion, I’ll treat myself and love every bite.

There was a recent disappointment, at least when it came to the mayo department. I had a craving for a burger yesterday, but the Market Street Grill wasn’t open for lunch. So, I went to another Ballardian haunt of mine, The High Life. Now, these guys do good burger, however, being on my new fry/mayo kick they just didn’t stand up. When I asked for a side of the white goodness, the waitress said, “We don’t have mayo, but we do have aioli.” “Even better,” I said. Unfortunately, I was served a bowl of nearly flavorless dressing. It was runny, seemingly cream-based (which an aioli is not) and really didn’t add anything to the experience. I am in no way bashing the food at The High Life, they have consistently done a great job, but I have to say, compared to what is available in Seattle, they’ve got to change their recipe. I would have been happier with a dollop of Best Foods than with what I was served.

My search will undoubtedly continue. I should, according to my scale, hold off on this particular endeavor, but everything in moderation, right?