Old Crisp

“Old Crisp occupies a modest address in Prospect Heights. The fries are, in contrast, not modest. The matchstick format is executed in sunflower, single-fried to a finish that is commendable and largely sustained. The interior is earnest and specific. The portion is forthcoming. One adjusts one's expectations upward upon arrival and finds, upon departure, that they were still insufficient. This guide recommends the fries and nothing else. This is sufficient.”

“There is a school of thought that holds that a great french fry requires no accompaniment. Old Crisp belongs to this school. The matchstick fry, single-fried in sunflower, makes its argument in silence. The crispness is commendable and largely sustained. The potato flavor is earnest and specific. The argument is persuasive. Return visits are not a matter of choice but of inevitability.”

“The fry at Old Crisp does not call attention to itself. It does not need to. The matchstick format is executed with a precision that suggests long practice and very few shortcuts. The crispness is commendable and largely sustained. The potato flavor is earnest and specific. One finds, upon reflection, that the fries were the correct decision. One returns.”

“One visits Old Crisp for the atmosphere and departs thinking only of the fries. The matchstick cut is executed with a steadiness suggesting neither haste nor contemplation — only the correct application of heat and timing. The crispness is commendable and largely sustained. The potato is earnest and specific. The grease is generous in the manner of a host who means it. One recommends not visiting for the atmosphere. One does not return. This information is provided without judgment.”