Would you like fries with that?

The mighty potato - packed with oodles of vitamins and nutrition, it's no wonder that the U.S. Department of Agriculture classified it as a vegetable (I'm sure it had nothing to do with politics). This unassuming root grows in nearly any climate worldwide, and may very well be the solution to the world's growing hunger problems. It has certainly been solving my own personal hunger problems for most of my life. And while I enjoy the potato in all it's forms, and would love nothing more than to ponder what caused ancient Man to dig the poisonous potato plant out of the ground and try noshing on it's root system (the short answer: desperate, agonizing starvation), my post today will only focus on what happens to a potato after one chops it into thin strips and boils it in sea of molten oil. I am speaking, of course, about french fries.

The french fry is served at nearly every fast food restaurant in the United States. It has even been spotted in non-fry locales (such as Taco Bell and KFC), under the super secret pseudonym of "potato wedge". There is no denying that without the french fry, fast food wouldn't be the incredibly popular foodstuff that it is.

The age old question "What do they call the french fry in France" is easily answered, thanks to the Internet. Back in my days *before* the Internet (yes, younglings... such a dark age existed), we thought that the French had invented the french fry, but oddly referred to their fries as "English fries", which we thought was quite funny. But, as it turns out, the French speak some sort of strange foreign language, and instead refer to their deep-fried potatoes as "Pomme Frites", which translates roughly into... erm... deep-fried potatoes. Their opinions about their cleverly named dish don't include the English at all, but instead seem to revolve around a nearby country known as Belgium, which they hail as the actual origin of the french fry.

The English have solved the regional fried-potato naming issue altogether, by dubbing their version of french fries as "chips". And while that may confuse the heck out of us Americans, it seems to keep them out of the fray, and seems to put the final nail in the coffin of the "English Fries" myth of my youth. Ah well.

Even though conclusive evidence doesn't exist to substantiate Belgium as the true originator of the fry, most of Europe including the Belgians themselves will tell you that it is (and Belgians also take the award for biggest European consumer of the french fry - that's national pride in action!) One exception to the rule is Spain, which insists that *they* actually created the delicious side dish more than a century before it first appeared in Belgium. Well, can you blame them for wanting to take credit for such greatness? Truth be told, we consumers don't truly know (or honestly care) where the fry really got its start. We are just damned happy it is here.

McDonald's Loves Me

McDonald's must've heard about my intensive re-entry into the blogosphere, because they sent me a coupon to try both their new Southern Style Chicken Biscuit and their similiarly named Chicken Sandwich... absolutely free of charge! I say that they heard of my bloggy comeback, because why else would I get such a valuable item in the mail?

Unless...

...they are desperately trying to move a product that isn't doing well...

But no, no... certainly it's the first reason? My burgeoning popularity in electronic media!

And so it was with a fierce determination to do the right thing (and get fed for free) that I paid my unexpected benefactors a visit in the early morning to review the breakfast version of their ...trillionth... attempt to break into the chicken market and knock KFC down a notch.

I sailed in mere moments before the morning rush - the parking lot was still wet from the pre-dawn McKitchen hose down. Sleepy executives were just starting to wander hazily inside, mumbling about coffee and forgetting that their untied ties were still draped like aviator scarves around their necks. I strolled smartly up to the counter and eagerly presented my ticket, fully expecting to be eyed like the celebrity that I must be. The cashier did eye me for a moment, but I sure didn't feel much like a celebrity... then he called to the back, "Hey! I'm gonna need one of those, ah..., chicken biscuit things..."

This was a Bad Sign.

If the chicken biscuit was a popular food item, there should be several already made and sitting under the industrial heat lamps in preparation for the breakfast rush. The fact that the cashier had to request one, and didn't even know quite what it was called, implied that popularity wasn't one of it's primary traits. Still, I had one in my hands in fairly short order, and I scampered out to enjoy it in my "private dining booth" (the car.)

My Southern Style Chicken Biscuit consisted of a breaded piece of chicken breast, seasoned with a hint of pepper and doubtless other herbs and seasonings, served between two halves of a biscuit. That's all. Let me be clear: there was nothing else but biscuit and chicken. Now correct me if I'm mistaken, but that doesn't seem very "southern" to me. I thought that southern cooking involved lots of deep frying, gravy, lots of pepper and other spices, and perhaps a few gallons of cheese or mayo... or SOMETHING! A plain biscuit with a piece of chicken thrown in the middle??? All I can say is... DRY DRY DRY OMG DRY. I had to go back in and order a drink just to get my swallow reflex to start working properly again. For the record, the chicken by itself *was* pretty tasty and not at all like a McNugget - but it was also not at all like southern cooking. For the future, I recommend to McDonalds that they at least serve this with a slice of cheese, or some sort of gravy sauce or mayonnaise. It desperately needs moisture!

I returned to the same McDonalds the very next day in the early afternoon, so that I could sample the lunch version of this meal. My sandwich was once again made on demand, despite the fact that I arrived at the height of the lunch rush. My first pleasant surprise was that the chicken sandwich actually contained a significantly larger piece of meat than it's breakfast counterpart - I was fully expecting these chicken slabs to be dual-use items. Not so! My second surprise was that the sandwich also contained additional items - two slices of pickle! Unfortunately, these two strips of greenery did little to solve the moisture issue, and I literally could not taste them while I ate the sandwich. Yes... there were no other condiments. No mayo, no cheese, and besides the substitution of a bun for the biscuit... no taste variation. This sandwich desperately needed mayo and lettuce, not two paper thin pickles (I watched myself consume the second pickle bite by bite... still coudn't taste it). Again, McDonalds, what makes this Southern? The pepper? Too slight. The deep frying? Jack in the Box deep frys their tacos, but they don't call them "Southern Style tacos". Because they aren't (and even those tacos have CHEESE in them!!!)

If you are going to commit to a style of food other than "McFood", you have to take some risks and step a little out of center stream. You'll never beat KFC this way. I give both of these meals a thumbs down- I don't like food that tries to choke me to death.

Add some sauce, already!

Time for Some Changes

After nearly two years of writing about my exciting mountain lifestyle, I've come to realize that after a tree falls on one's house, nothing else seems to hold any pizzaz. Squirrels fighting in a tree... scorpions in the couch... my battle with a piece of cement buried in the backyard... these things just seem so incidental in comparison. So it is time to expand my horizons. I will still write about the crazy backwoods that I call home, but I may be expanding the focus of this blog in the weeks to come to include some other aspects of my daily existence, in an effort to rekindle my writing flame.

Stay tuned...