Old Spud

“The fry at Old Spud 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 aspirational. The potato flavor is present as a rumor. One finds, upon reflection, that the fries were the correct decision. One does not return. This information is provided without judgment.”

“The matchstick fry at Old Spud represents a kitchen with convictions. The exterior is aspirational. The interior is present as a rumor. The sunflower does not call attention to itself. The grease is generous in the manner of a host who means it. Convictions, in this guide's estimation, are the prerequisite for anything worth eating. The fry alone merits the journey to Bay Ridge.”

“One visits Old Spud 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 aspirational. The potato is present as a rumor. The grease is generous in the manner of a host who means it. One recommends not visiting for the atmosphere. The address is committed to memory.”

“The matchstick fry is, at its best, a meditation on patience. Old Spud understands this. The kitchen has chosen sunflower, which is either bold or obvious depending on one's position. The crispness is aspirational. The interior potato character is present as a rumor. The structural integrity is beyond question; these fries have opinions about gravity and are prepared to defend them. One returns. This guide recommends the fries and nothing else. This is sufficient.”