The Husband is a big fan of the pomme frites. In fact, he generally adores any potato product.
If I wanted to lift his wallet, strip him of his clothes and dignity, pack up Grandma’s good china and make off in broad daylight without protest, I’d only have to place an open bag of potato chips in front of the man. As soon as he puts that first chip in his mouth, he’s as good as gone. Hypnotized. It’s like he can’t think of anything else except the next chip. And the one after that. I’ve watched him eat half a bag this way– all glossy-eyed and unmovable. It’s weird.
The Husband knows he has a problem, so chips in the house are a rarity and when we go out to eat, like many of us do, he often denies himself his favorite carb so that he can continue to fit into his pants.
Well, because I love this man and because it is his birthday on Monday (and because it is a tradition in my family to celebrate your birthday for as many days in a row as possible), I suggested last night over dinner at Olivia that he treat himself (with supervision) to his favorite food for five days straight.
“FIVE FUN NIGHTS OF FRENCH FRIES,” I enthused.
He looked dubious.
“Instead of birthday cake!” I reasoned.
He knows a good argument when he hears one, so he promptly ordered the bowl of frites with aioli and house-made ketchup. The Husband deemed Olivia’s salt and pepper, shoestring fries, “So hot. So delicious.”
After several mouthfuls he washed down with a glass of Tempranillo, he said, “Where are we going tomorrow night?”
A new tradition has begun.
Stay tuned. Tonight, Hank and Izzy search Austin for the hottest pomme frites scene.
DAY TWO
Peche in the warehouse district.
Peche throws their potato products into sizzling duck fat and boy OH boy do them fries taste phenomenal. This fry is a size up from the shoestring, served with skins on and covered in rock salt. The Husband ordered the aioli de Provence (lavender and Annis) and your basic bleu cheese.
He devoured the first helping and then ordered the pork sliders with fries. Next came the beef sliders with fries. When I congratulated him on his carb overload and chirped, “Where will we go tomorrow?” he said, “Don’t talk to me about more fries.”
DAY THREE
The Husband is hung over from fries and rum drinks. Failed Fun Night ‘O Fries Day Three.
DAY FOUR
We go searching South Congress for a late lunch and end up at Gueros Taco Bar. The Husband tells me (like he’s making up the rules now for Five Fun Night ‘O Fries) that tortilla chips can substitute for potato chips.
He’s evading responsibility, but I let it go since it is his birthday. And tomorrow, I’ll be sure he makes up for it.
DAY FIVE
The Husband made up for his sorry-frie-eating skills on day three and four by ordering a bowl of waffle fries from Lamberts Downtown Barbeque, our favorite restaurant in town. The waffles paired exceptionally well with his Mustard and Brown sugar Crusted Niman ranch rib eye. It was a fantastic finale to the Five Fun Nights ‘O Fries.
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