I'm on a crazy french fries trip. Not sure what the hell is going on, but I need them. Not want, NEED. There's a fury inside of my stomach screaming out for more, so I've decided why fight it? Just feed the beast. It will go away eventually. There is this crazy amazing recipe for A+, gold star, Michelin status lemon salt and rosemary fries that makes me want to do... inappropriate adult things. All you have to do is mash the zest of one lemon into about 4TBS of sea salt and fry some sprigs of rosemary in olive oil and you're ready. Top your fries with the lemon salt and crumbled rosemary and you'll never need a sexual partner again.

See, all fries are not created equal though. I prefer the  bougier varieties completely absent from my childhood (the above mentioned lemon salt & rosemary fries, truffle fries, sweet potato fries, parmesan & basil fries, etc.) but my husband prefers and kind of fries covered in gravy and cheese, which immediately makes my chest hurt and creates imaginary pains shooting through my left arm simulating cardiac arrest. And my kids? They think both of us are crazy and that no one in their right mind could possibly prefer any fry over McDonald's. We try to keep them away from that fast food haven of fried-in-grease hell, but sometimes we'll let slip and accidentally drive through for some crispy, fried deliciousness, even if it might be clogging our arteries as we sit there in "can't-talk-fries-in-mouth" silence until they're finished.