I recently blogged about Belgian waffles. Today I'm blogging about Belgian fried potatoes, otherwise known as pommes frites and/or a Flemish name I can't remember. More specifically, it's about a tiny take-out joint in New York City called Pommes Frites that sells nothing but pommes frites. In short, heaven.
Or so I thought.
First, a little background: Six months of living in Brussels taught me that Belgian food (and drink) is good. The waffles! The chocolate! The beer! But for my money the best of all were the frites. The hot, crispy, served-in-a-cone, dipped-in-a-sauce frites. I've always been a fan of salty food, especially fries, and the Belgians take this delicious treat to a whole new level. I went to Brussels' famous Maison Antoine more times than I care to admit.
Needless to say, I was beyond excited to try New York City's own frites shop, conveniently located one block from my former apartment. I ordered a regular sized cone with ketchup and Irish curry sauce for dipping, and tucked in for what I hoped would be a delicious afternoon snack. Instead, I got "blah." The frites didn't taste Belgian at all. They were too dense, too large, and not nearly crispy enough. I would call them "steak fries," which can be tasty, but are most definitely not what you find at a Belgian friterie.
Three months of living in New York City taught me that Belgian food abroad is hit and miss.