My French Fry Mecca
Hold the Ketchup
By Kirk Evans
ADVANCE FOOD COLUMNIST
If you want a good French fry there’s only one thing to do, and that’s drive yourself to Rehoboth Beach, Delaware and queue up at the Boardwalk Thrasher’s.
I suppose you can go to any of the Thrasher’s locations—two more in Rehoboth, three in Ocean City, Md. But for me, the Boardwalk has always been the place.
They make one thing there, and one thing only: the best French fry I have ever eaten.
Thrasher’s crows that they only use three ingredients to create their inimitable fries: potatoes, peanut oil, and salt. And they are inimitable. I know, because I’ve been trying to imit them for years.
Thrasher’s serves their hot fries by the bucket. And they are not cheap. Last time I checked, a large fry at Thrasher’s was $16. But you’ll be ok with it, because Thrasher’s fries are not a side dish, they are the main course. On a Saturday in July, you’re going to wait in a line that could easily be 20 people deep, and when you get to the front, you’ll spring for the large because you know you’re going to have to share these fries with your kids and the dozens of seagulls loitering around waiting to collect any that fall on the ground.
Protect yourself: Bold birds will sometimes snatch fries right out of your hand.
You get a bucket loaded with fries, and a cardboard tray to dump the salted fries on, and then you sprinkle the fries with vinegar and try to make it back to your family under the beach umbrella before you eat them all yourself.
Thrashers fries are hot and delicately crisp on the outside, and soft and creamy on the inside. The flavor is nutty and rich from the peanut oil. After you add vinegar, the fries get soggy just for a moment—and then somehow CRISP BACK UP in the cardboard tray!
It’s that combination of glassy crispness and creamy inside that I’ve been chasing for so long in my own kitchen. It’s hard to describe. The fries aren’t crunchy; you’ll hear no influencer-ready crackle when you bite into one. But the crispness is both delicate and persistent. A towering achievement.
So simple: Just slice up some taters, fry them in peanut oil, and salt ‘em up. You might think that they’ve just given you their recipe right then and there, those dopes. You want to run home and make your own version for just a dollar or two’s worth of potatoes and oil. But that simplicity is misleading. Because within the simple framework of potatoes, peanut oil, and salt lie dozens of permutations.
Do they rinse their fries or not? Do they soak them? If they soak them, for how long? Do they use fresh or salted water? Do they air-dry them? Spin dry them? Blot them with paper towels? Or do the potatoes go in the oil wet? Does Thrasher’s chill or freeze their taters before frying? Do they fry them once, twice, three times? How long do the fries rest between frys? What temperature is the first fry versus the second fry?
One good thing about this rabbit hole I’m about to take you down is, it smells like fries in there.
My family has been going to Rehoboth Beach for six decades now, and Thrashers has been a part of every visit. The Boardwalk location, which I’ve always preferred, sits between two Rehoboth institutions: Funland and Gus and Gus. Funland is a lively, kid-friendly amusement park with rides and games. Gus and Gus is a busy restaurant with a few tables, though they do most of their trade over the take-out counter facing the boardwalk. They sell excellent fried chicken, solid burgers, and thick-cut, hand-made fries. Yes—Gus and Gus, right next to Thrasher’s, also has boardwalk fries.
I’ll hit them up for a Philly cheesesteak and a drink, and then go wait in the Thrasher’s line for the fries. And I’m not the only one. The owners at Gus and Gus watch people do this every day, and you can tell it drives them nuts. They put up a big sign announcing they have boardwalk fries ,too! If you ask them about it, Gus and Gus will respond, with some irritation, “They’re the same fries!” If you listen close, you can hear a sublimated “goddamn” between “same” and “fries.”
The thing is though? They’re NOT the same. Even after decades next door to Thrasher’s, Gus and Gus haven’t cracked the code. Their fries are good. They’re fine. Really.
Just not as good as Thrasher’s.
There is one tiny complication, though, which is that Thrasher’s founder, J.T. Thrasher, was not a fan of ketchup. J.T. was of a mind that ketchup obscured the flavor of his one-of-a-kind fries, so he chose not to offer it, and Thrasher’s never has.
Now, you may want ketchup with your fries, and who is Thrasher’s to gainsay you? In 2018, the owners of Thrasher’s addressed the ketchup controversy, which had flared up yet again, when they issued an unequivocal public affirmation of their commitment to not offer ketchup with their fries, then or in the future.
The result was that some people who ordered Thrasher’s fries started drifting over to Gus and Gus and asking for ketchup—until Gus and Gus put up a hand-written cardboard sign that said “KETCHUP IS FOR GUS AND GUS COSTOMERS ONLY.”
Over time, the cardboard sign got increasingly grease-splattered and faded, so a few years ago they replaced it with a very visible permanent sign. Sorry bro. You don’t buy our fries, you don’t get our sweet, sweet ‘chup.
Enter Funland. They saw their chance for a major cash grab, and installed a ketchup vending machine on the boardwalk just feet away from the Thrasher’s counter. Now while you wait in line for hot fries, you can arm your kid with some quarters, and send her over to Funland to twist the handle on the machine and nab a few squeeze packets of Heinz.
Suck on THAT, French fry snobs.
***
I’ve been working on my fry recipe for years. And though I make a very good French fry, possibly even an excellent French fry, I’ve not achieved that combination of glassy crispness and creamy interior I’ve long been after. If Thrasher’s are a 10/10, my very best fry is probably about a 7/10.
When you spend years trying to copy a perfect food, you’ll start out with elaborate procedures and lots of tools and specialty ingredients, thinking that it must take a complicated, multi-step process to achieve something so good.
In the end, though, you’ll find that many of the world’s greatest foods are a master class in simplicity. Just a few key ingredients combined in the perfect way, by craftsmen who are deeply in love with the food they make hundreds of times a day, every day, for years.
I’m still on my fry journey, and if I stumble onto something new, I’ll update my method. But for now, I’ve stripped away all the froofraw, and after years of trial and error, come up with this:
Kirk’s French Fries
Get started at least three hours before serving.
Ingredients:
· Good, firm russet potatoes
· Vegetable oil
· Salt
· Malt vinegar
Fill a deep kettle about 1/3 of the way up with oil (see TIPS below).
Peel and slice your potatoes into fries about ½ inch thick. Rinse the cut fries in a big bowl of cold water to remove excess starch. Spread the uncooked fries on a cookie sheet lined with paper towels, and blot them as dry as you can, on all sides, also with paper towels.
Heat oil to 350°.
Add potatoes to the hot oil, working in batches if necessary. Maintain the temperature of the oil at 350°. Stir the potatoes to keep them from sticking together. When the fries start to blister and take on a little color, take them out, and let them drain on another cookie sheet lined with paper towels. Turn off the heat. Try to spread the fries out so they cool and drain evenly.
Now walk away. Let the fries sit on the counter for a few hours, or in the fridge, uncovered.
When you’re almost ready to serve your fries, bring the oil up to 375°. Add the cooled fries back in, being careful not to overcrowd. After a few minutes, they’ll pick up even more color. You’ll be able to feel that they are crisp when you stir them around with your metal tool.
Take them out of the oil and put them back on the cookie sheet lined with fresh paper towels. Let them rest 5-10 minutes. Keep the oil hot.
Just before serving, drop the fries one last time in the 375° oil for just a minute or two. Give them a few stirs. Remove them to a metal strainer. Toss them with salt
Serve immediately, offering vinegar to whoever wants it. Or ketchup, I guess. To each their own.
TIPS
· Figure one large, or two normal-sized russets per person.
· I square up my potatoes before cutting them into fries.
· Dry potatoes make crisp fries.
· Peanut oil is expensive, but it’s better. Use it if you can. I avoid canola oil, which can develop a fishy smell/taste when heated to frying temperatures.
· You need a thermometer. Without one, you will have a hard time making good fries.
· It’s important not to overcrowd the kettle. If you do, the fries will steam and not fry, and they’ll turn out limp and greasy.
· Use only metal or wooden tools. A stainless steel spider is perfect for the job
· If you don’t have malt vinegar, use apple cider vinegar
***
The other day, when I set a bowl of hot, fresh fries in front of my daughter, she told me that while training to be an EMT she had witnessed some complicated medical procedures successfully performed in a moving ambulance, and she was both startled and amazed that a person could be so skilled. She said she had the same feeling about my fries.
They may not be Thrasher’s, but they work for me.
