If my first summer in the city had a flavor, it would taste like Pommes Frites. And poutine. Because that is what I always, always order.
Pommes Frites is a tiny little place down in the East Village that has big bold Belgian Fries. When I first moved here it seemed like Sarah, Chloe, and I (then Chloe and me, then just me myself and I - as they both moved away that summer) frequented it oh so often.
They slice and dice up potatoes, deep fry them, and serve with what seems like an endless list of sauces... mostly of the mayo variety. But I stick to the poutine, which has never failed me. It's a tasty mixture of thick chicken gravy, white cheddar cheese curds that have been imported from Quebec, and a big serving of the fries. It comes in a little container which fits perfectly in your purse so you can smuggle it into the movie theater on 12th Street. In case you were wondering.
It has been well over a year since my last trip to Pommes Frites (where are my priorities?!) so I suggested to it to Chloe for dinner before a movie earlier this week. We got our food and settled in up at the counter. A lot has changed since my first summer of Pommes Frites and a lot has changed since my last visit. But the delicious, warm feeling of a bowl of poutine and the satisfaction it brings has definitely remained the same.
