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46

Charlie’s “100 Things Posts About Me”

#46. Wendy’s has the best French fries. Sorry, McDonald’s fans.

Okay, so I’m not actually going to convince anyone with that statement. I realize that. Fry fandom is almost like religion; people have really, really strong opinions that are unlikely to ever change, regardless of what proof or logic or alternatives you parade in front of them. And the most fanatical of them will kill to defend their beliefs. This is serious shit.

That said, I’m a Wendy’s man, through and through. First off, I’m pretty sure that Ronald McDonald is the antichrist. Or something very similar, anyway. McDeath has served ‘billions and billions‘ people; so many, they’ve even stopped counting, for the love of horsemeat! Is there any way they could make you feel more like a mindless sheep for eating there? Wake up, folks — they’ll be grinding up mind control pills in the hamburger ‘meat’ any day now, and plopping those two pickles and *squirt squirt* of mustard and ketchup on it, and serving it up to the unsuspecting masses shuffling through the doors. Any day now, if they haven’t started already.

(Which would actually be a handy explanation as to how Roseanne got another show; she’s probably got comprimising piccys of Ronald gettin’ busy with the Michelin Man, or the Pillsbury Dough Boy, and she’s blackmailed him into using the McD’s clout to get her back on TV. Really, think about it. What other explanation is there?)

And Burger King? Um, no. Yeah, you can have it your way, just so long as ‘your way‘ is grease-drenched, soggy, oversalted and uninspired. (Which actually does happen to be my way… just not as it applies to French fries. Yeah, don’t ask.) So, though I don’t really have anything against BK as a multi-national conglomerate, their fries are crap. Limp, tepid crap. Moving on.

And frankly — even forgetting my morbid fear and loathing of the McDoodles franchise — their fries aren’t all that great, in my opinion. First of all, they’re too skinny. They’re also non-uniformly crispy. They do get nice and brown on the ends, I’ll admit, but the centers are often like cake batter, or cottage cheese. Lumpy and doughy and just not yummy in any conceivable way. I’ll pass.

Which leaves Wendy’s as the winner in my book. Their fries are a little thicker than the others, which is a damned good start. (And don’t even get started, you Sonic or Jack-in-the-Box or J.D. Ritzy’s folks. The fries from those places — and most others — are like little deep-fried toothpicks. You gotta stuff about twelve of ’em in your damned mouth just to be able to taste them. This is the only mention they’re gonna get in this space. Sorry.) And a well-cared-for Wendy’s fry is brown from top to bottom, and on both sides. Crunchy on the outside, warm and pillowy and creamy in the middle. Like a jalepeno popper, or a chocolate-covered hamster.

To prove my point, I’ll say this: Wendy’s fries are the only ones that I’ve ever encountered that don’t require ketchup. That, to me, is the highest praise you can lavish on a fried potato product. You can wax poetic about whatever fry you want. If you prefer to eat it unadulterated, then at least I know you have the strength of your convictions to back you up. Otherwise, don’t talk to me about French fries. You’re just shooting ketchup in your mouth, and you happen to need something solid to keep it sliding down. Don’t waste my time.