Pommes Frites Flunks Fantasy
By Doni Greenberg

Food fantasies get me in trouble. Take pommes frites, for example, that mother of all French fries whose loose translation means “potatoes fried.”

Pommes frites– “pum-freet.“

Any food pronounced that elegantly must be delicious.

With that in mind, I was not surprised to learn that the hallmark of authentic pommes frites is the fact they are fried. Not just once, but twice, and sometimes, believe it or not, they’re even fried a third time.

Pommes frites purists proclaim that if you skip this multi-fry step, you’re a pommes frites poser.

What’s more, that first frying must be done at about 325 degrees, which cooks the potatoes. The second frying must be raised to around 365 to 375 degrees, which renders the potatoes brown and crispy.

Fine.

Obviously, you’ll need a thermometer.

I julienned (cut into long strips) the potatoes. I left the potato skins on, to balance any potential negative nutritional points from double-frying.

Right.

I soaked the skinny pale spuds in ice water. I dumped the water. I soaked the potatoes again. I dumped the water again. I soaked the potatoes again, until the potato ice bath water appeared clear, and starch-free, which was my goal all along.

The dang potato bathing process sucked up an hour. That’s OK. It gave me time to prepare the vat o’ oil, and line my counters with clean paper to absorb the grease, so clean-up would be a snap.

I had another reason for wanting to make pommes frites.I was dying to try out my new mandoline, one of the sharpest kitchen instruments known to emergency room doctors around the globe.

My anticipation was tempered with white-hot fear of my new mandoline. I’d read and re-read the directions. I’d also spent a lot of time staring at the mandoline blades that resemble rows of thin razors that look exactly like metal sharks’ teeth.

Even so, my pommes  frites fantasy saw me using my mandoline to julienne mountains of potatoes in mere seconds. I carefully assembled my mandoline. I held my breath as I inserted my desired blade. I placed the safety pusher on the mandoline and pushed my maiden potato down the stainless steel slide toward the culinary guillotine. The potato stopped, impaled on the bladey spike strip. I chickened out and abandoned the mandoline, sans julienned fingers (or potatoes).

I sharpened my knife and got cutting. Truthfully, it took less time to hand-cut 5 pounds of potatoes than it did to assemble my mandoline.

Then came the water baths (see above). I knew from my extensive pommes frites research that residue water is the enemy to successful pommes frites frying. This struck me as funny after all those potato baths.

Whatever.

I towel-dried the potatoes. They still felt damp. I imagined those moist, cold potatoes hitting the hot grease and splattering scalding oil over my face and arms. (See emergency room, above.)

I used the hair dryer on the potatoes until they were bone dry. I got tired of holding the hair dryer and propped it next to my wooden spoons and spatulas.

Finally, I dumped the first batch of potatoes in the 325-degree oil. The oil temperature immediately plummeted to 250.

The temperature rose. The potatoes fried nicely for between 3 to 4 minutes, as per the directions. I drained them on my counter’s paper. I repeated those steps with all the raw potatoes. Then I reheated the oil to 365-degrees and began the second fry. My kitchen was a slippery mess.

Bruce wandered through the kitchen, surveyed the oily chaos and wrinkled his nose at the stink of frying oil that permeated our open-floor-plan house.

“You’re deep frying?” he asked. “Don’t you usually just bake your French fries?”

The look I shot him through squinted eyes behind greasy bangs was enough to make him leave the kitchen, but he’d given me an idea. What if I took half the first-fried potatoes and baked them, instead of frying them a second time? What if it was possible to skip the second frying for half the potatoes, yet still produce a wonderful pommes frites?

I took half of the pasty, once-fried potatoes and fried them a second time, according to the recipe.

Then I took the remaining once-fried potatoes and baked them.

Both batches were crunchy and just the right shade of golden brown. Both were beautiful and appetizing. I was so excited to take them to my twin’s house for dinner where I’d conduct a blind taste test to see which batch everyone preferred.

Secretly, I was rooting for the once-fried, once-baked potatoes.

Off we went to my sister’s house, where I got so wrapped up in my niece’s baby that I didn’t oversee the rewarming of the pommes frites, nor did I see how both batches of fries were unceremoniously dumped and mixed on one cookie sheet, at a temperature that would have worked great for broiling cheese on French onion soup. I won’t name names, but his name rhymes with noose.

Most of the pommes frites burned. But some didn’t. Amazingly, everyone said they loved the pommes frites. All of them.

I’m sticking to my original baked French fry recipe from here on out. Today I’ve provided a classic pommes frites recipe, as well as my no-fail baked French fries. Your choice.

By the way, during my research I found a pommes frites recipe that blew my mind. It began with a bag of FROZEN shoestring French fries. It only fried the potatoes once, but was said to taste as if it had a second frying time.

I won’t tell if you won’t.

Pommes Frites (French Fries)

Wash and cut the potatoes into long, thin sticks – (julienned)

Cover in ice water. Over the next hour or so, change the water until it’s clear and free of starch.

Dry the potatoes completely. Heat enough oil to reach half way up the sides of a deep, heavy pan to about 325 degrees.

Add potatoes in small batches and fry for between 3 to 4 minutes. (Big batches will cause the oil’s temperature to drop quickly and the potatoes will cook unevenly.)

They will look limp and pale.

Drain on paper towels, paper bags or parchment paper. (Do NOT salt now, unless you want a hot-oil splatter fest.) Note: You can actually refrigerate or even freeze the potatoes at this step, and save the second frying for another day.

Heat oil to between 365 to 375 degrees. Fry the potatoes again, this time for a few minutes, or until they look crispy and beautifully browned. Drain on paper, as above, but sprinkle liberally with kosher salt. Serve immediately.

If you rewarm the frites later, watch them carefully so they don’t burn.

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Doni’s Baked French Fries

Fill a clean sink or huge bowl with clean, very hot water. (Just below boiling.) Place whole potatoes in the water and let the potatoes soak for about 10 to 15 minutes.

Preheat the oven to 450 degrees.

Dry the potatoes. Leave the skins on (unless you really hate them) and cut the potatoes to any size your heart desires, from skinny sticks to thick wedges. But whatever size you choose, be uniform about it or the potatoes will cook unevenly.

Place the potatoes in a plastic bag with a few tablespoons of olive oil, garlic, rosemary and some salt and pepper. Zip the bag up and use your hands to squish the potatoes around inside the bag so the potatoes are evenly coated with oil.

Line baking pans with parchment paper (or spray with non-stick spray) and place the potatoes in a single layer on the sheet. Season with more salt and pepper, to taste. (Or not.)

Bake for about 20 minutes, or until golden brown and cooked through. (Times will vary depending upon potato size.) Add more salt, if desired.

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