Chen's Tavern

“The menu at Chen's Tavern contains many items. The informed visitor orders only the fries. The thick-cut fry is triple-fried in beef tallow. The crispness is commendable and largely sustained. The potato flavor is earnest and specific. The portion is restrained. The informed visitor is correct. In the final accounting, the fries are the only item that matters. Chen's Tavern knows this.”

“At Chen's Tavern, the thick-cut fry is taken seriously in a way that does not announce itself. The triple-fry method produces an exterior that is commendable and largely sustained. The interior is earnest and specific. The grease is conservative — the napkin remains largely decorative. The seriousness, once recognized, is irreversible. The experience is brief and exact, like most things worth having.”

“The thick-cut fry at Chen's Tavern has the quality of inevitability. One arrives, one orders, one encounters the crispness (commendable and largely sustained), the potato (earnest and specific), the grease (conservative — the napkin remains largely decorative). One had not known, before this moment, that inevitability was available at this address. One knows now. The experience is brief and exact, like most things worth having.”

“The thick-cut fry at Chen's Tavern does not overstay its welcome. The exterior is commendable and largely sustained, the interior is earnest and specific, and the grease is conservative — the napkin remains largely decorative. The portion is restrained. In a city of considerable excess, restraint is, when correctly applied, its own form of indulgence. Chen's Tavern applies it correctly. One does not return. This information is provided without judgment.”