
You can tell a lot about a person by the way they dip their fries. Are they an elegant aesthete with a discerning eye? Are they an unapologetic hedonist throwing caution to the wind? Are they a baby?
Take it from me, an obsessive potato consumer and lifelong amateur fry scientist. My travels have taken me far and wide, from a fancy Barcelona McDonald’s to an Arkansas diner that serves shoestring fries out of waxy Dixie cups. Everywhere I go, I’m struck by God’s truth: that one’s chosen fry-dipping method is an instinctual behavior with deep anthropological implications. Here are my findings.