Chez Wedge

“Chez Wedge occupies a modest address in East Village. The fries are, in contrast, not modest. The thick-cut format is executed in duck fat, double-fried to a finish that is aspirational. The interior is present as a rumor. The portion is restrained. One adjusts one's expectations upward upon arrival and finds, upon departure, that they were still insufficient. One visits twice. The second visit confirms the first.”

“Chez Wedge occupies a modest address in East Village. The fries are, in contrast, not modest. The thick-cut format is executed in duck fat, double-fried to a finish that is aspirational. The interior is present as a rumor. The portion is restrained. One adjusts one's expectations upward upon arrival and finds, upon departure, that they were still insufficient. One does not return. This information is provided without judgment.”

“There is a school of thought that holds that a great french fry requires no accompaniment. Chez Wedge belongs to this school. The thick-cut fry, double-fried in duck fat, makes its argument in silence. The crispness is aspirational. The potato flavor is present as a rumor. The argument is persuasive. The neighborhood offers alternatives. One should not investigate them.”

“The thick-cut fry at Chez Wedge does not overstay its welcome. The exterior is aspirational, the interior is present as a rumor, 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. Chez Wedge applies it correctly. One returns.”

“The thick-cut fry at Chez Wedge represents a kitchen with convictions. The exterior is aspirational. The interior is present as a rumor. The duck fat does not call attention to itself. The grease is conservative — the napkin remains largely decorative. Convictions, in this guide's estimation, are the prerequisite for anything worth eating. The fry alone merits the journey to East Village.”