Papá dice: "Bélgica lo hace mejor"
Después de toda una vida comiendo patatas fritas al estilo americano, el primer mordisco de las patatas fritas al estilo belga es una experiencia transformadora.
Growing up in suburban Chicago in the 1960s, my father was a fanatically picky eater. Macaroni and cheese, frozen pizza, and McDonald's cheeseburgers with zero accouterments—those were his staples. No vegetables passed his lips, except for one: french fries. ("Dipped in ketchup only, or sometimes a vanilla milkshake," he clarifies.)
In recent years, Dad's palate has expanded a bit: broccoli, white fish, and burgers with fancy toppings all have their place in his gastronomic repertoire. But his biggest step forward is still firmly tied to the picky habits of years past: today, my dad is a Belgian frites freak. Dad says: "Belgium does it better"