French Fry Waste

the fries in my fridgeLet’s have a brief moment of silence for our fallen French fried friends. (moment)

There. This post uniquely captures some of the feelings I often have at restaurants. Then its author goes a bit far, but in a fun way.

If someone possessed the foresight to construct a potato cemetery for all these fallen soldiers, there would surely be ten Vietnam Memorials for one day in Manhattan restaurants alone.

It was a timely post for me, because there’s a Styrofoam container of doomed fries in my fridge right now. They’ve received a stay of execution, but it won’t be for long. I reheated a few of them two days ago and they were so-so. On second reheating, they were awful. Now it’s just a matter of bringing myself to chuck ’em.

My wife ordered a sandwich and received said fries, an unpleasant surprise since she doesn’t like them. Naturally, there were tons of them (that picture was after restaurant nibbling and round two at home). She often substitutes, but was in a conversation and wasn’t focusing on what came with her sandwich. In our fries-happy land, that mistake will ultimately mean an extra pound of food in our town’s waste stream.

Since they’re terrible for our health and terrible reheated, how about a common sense resolution: the fries’ weight shouldn’t exceed that of the sandwich. 

This entry was posted in Personal, Restaurant. Bookmark the permalink. Both comments and trackbacks are currently closed.

7 Comments