Afternoon Snack Common House

As most of my friends know, I am a sucker for french fries. I blame my grandfather. When I was a child, he identified that I loved salty crunchy potatoes.

As he tells it, after picking me up from the babysitter, he would drive me into town in his blue pick up truck to get some Wendy's fries. Sitting on the arm rest, I would eat them all the way home. An alarming story in many ways, but true of our relationship, I think.

I've loved fries ever since.

These fries from Common House, served in their paper cone remind me of studying abroad in England.  My friends and I would often swing by a chips place near our house in Tottenham Court. I'd smuggle a whole newspaper package into my kitchen for a late night snack. Smuggled, I say, because I never wanted to share.




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