Photos: A Field Guide to French Fries in New York
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I used to live a couple of blocks away from Pommes Frites, the Belgian fry counter in the East Village, and as a broke freelancer in my early twenties, I often replaced meals entirely with a paper cone of fries. They were cut thick and fried twice, so the batons were dark and crisp, but with fluffy, tender centers.
Even now, even when there’s a long line of wobbling, shouty drunk tourists and students winding down the block, I can’t really walk by the place without going inside. Maybe there are better fries in New York than at this grimy counter, but I’m not convinced.