Arthur Petrov's Tavern

“One arrives skeptical at Arthur Petrov's Tavern. One departs converted. The waffle fry is responsible for both. The exterior is aspirational. The interior presents a potato present as a rumor. The grease is calibrated with clinical precision. Skepticism, as a protective measure, has its limits. This guide has reached them. The experience is brief and exact, like most things worth having.”

“The menu at Arthur Petrov's Tavern contains many items. The informed visitor orders only the fries. The waffle fry is triple-fried in sunflower. The crispness is aspirational. The potato flavor is present as a rumor. The portion is restrained. The informed visitor is correct. One proceeds. One is glad one did.”

“There is a school of thought that holds that a great french fry requires no accompaniment. Arthur Petrov's Tavern belongs to this school. The waffle fry, triple-fried in sunflower, makes its argument in silence. The crispness is aspirational. The potato flavor is present as a rumor. The argument is persuasive. One proceeds. One is glad one did.”

“One does not come to Washington Heights for the fries. One comes for the fries at Arthur Petrov's Tavern. The distinction matters. The waffle fry is aspirational without, and present as a rumor within. The grease is calibrated with clinical precision. The portion is restrained. The distinction, once understood, becomes permanent. One does not return. This information is provided without judgment.”

“The waffle fry at Arthur Petrov's Tavern has the quality of inevitability. One arrives, one orders, one encounters the crispness (aspirational), the potato (present as a rumor), the grease (calibrated with clinical precision). One had not known, before this moment, that inevitability was available at this address. One knows now. A return visit is, at this point, a formality. One will perform it nonetheless.”