Do fries come with that...never mind

How hard would you think it is to make a decent french fry? Well, okay, I have failed at some attempts in my own kitchen, but I chalk that up to lack of proper cookware, not to my culinary instincts, of which I have many. But I have to say, if you are looking for some tasty fries, then Vegas is not your place. Even if you were starving in the desert, which you could be since we are in Nevada, I wouldn't recommend the fries out here. Let me back up and say that I am talking about fast food french fries (maybe the fries at, say, the Bellagio, are out of this world, julienned and oven-roasted by the next Top Chef runner-up). But fast food fries are the ones you WANT to be good. I mean, it's fast food for cryin' out loud! Grease it up, yum! These fries we had were so dry, and they weren't the sunny, crispy golden yellow you associate with piping hot, salty, deep fry goodness. They were paper-bag-brown. It was like eating stale, fried Crisco sticks (as opposed to FRESH, fried Crisco sticks, which are my favorite holiday treats). We thought they were old, so we asked for a new batch, right out of the fryer, and they obliged by giving us a fresh batch of...paper-bag-brown fries. Which tasted like the bottom of my shoe - and yes, I have tasted the bottom of my shoe. It was a long time ago, I needed some cash, I had been doing lots of yoga, the circus was in town for a month, I had a leotard and some spoons and...oh, you know how that story goes. Anyway, I guess that's how they roll in Vegas. Now go and eat some fries and think of me!