The ribs, the burgers, the mounds of pulled pork—everything at Danny”s Roadside Kitchen justifies a drive to Lower Lake.
But really, who cares about slowly smoked, fork-tender meat or juices oozing from hand-made patties when you can just order a pile of French fries.
That”s right, fries.
Despite the little barbecue shack”s reputation for main courses, there are a core of fanatics—perhaps aficionados is a better term—who converge on Danny”s just for those narrow strips of pomme frites. And there”s a reason, something beyond owner Carl White”s obsession with fresh ingredients.
The space is too cramped to allow for cold storage, so White must haul in sacks of potatoes every couple days, slicing them by hand.
“There”s nothing better than a good chip,” White said with a knowing smile.
True enough, but what makes White”s fries stand apart is his adherence to an age-old culinary ritual—one far too often dismissed by chefs at prominent destinations. He simply blanches them.
Preparing fries properly involves two steps, as well as a little finesse at the fryer. Once a batch hits the grease, oil temperatures will plummet, so a chef must manage the heat. As a golden hue begins to envelop the frites, they are pulled from the oil and allowed to rest. Just before serving, they receive another dip into the vat.
The result is sublime. A gossamer crust wraps around something billowy and delicate. The fries crackle and melt and hold their own, all at once. If cooked in duck fat or beef tallow (remember McDonald”s fries in the old days?), a rich, husky savor would flow over the palate.
So why are fries like this so difficult to find?
“It”s just that nobody wants to take time,” White said. “It”s easier to buy frozen. It”s the convenience.”
A majority of restaurants across the country settle for either sad, sagging strands of potato or crunchy, overcooked sticks. Some try to disguise their refusal to take that extra step by coating the fries in rice flour, which adds a golden brown color and crispy bite. But these are shortcuts.
Indeed, chefs who care about the matter occasionally debate just how long the blanched pomme frites should sit, and under what conditions. Some put them aside for half an hour. Others set them in a refrigerator overnight. Space, the crush of customers—as well as the lack of a fridge—dictates White”s options. He gives the fries no more than 15 minutes between hot oil treatments.
“It”s very difficult to manage,” White admits. “The hardest thing is when I”m busy and it cools the oil. That”s the biggest challenge.”
But every consideration regarding the fries at Danny”s is taken seriously. White eschews the common Russet or other well-known members of the potato family for the Kennebec.
“It has a different starch content,” he explained. “The Russet will go limp.”
Kennebecs generally measure between 18 to 20 percent starch, which puts it closer to the firm, waxy breeds. Some purists look for Katahdin potatoes. And to complicate matters, pomme frites, pommes pont neuf, British style chips and other styles of French fry call for slightly different treatment—from oil temperature on.
Still, when a restaurateur pays attention, the results beckon. And if one happens to live in the Lower Lake vicinity, it”s probably best to just park outside Danny”s.
Oh, there are compelling fries around the area. The Saw Shop, for instance, sprinkles truffle oil over theirs, creating an earthy, elegant sheen. But the fries at Danny”s are, well, just something done right. And that makes all the difference.
Dave Faries can be reached at 900-2016
