Beauchamp's Bistro

“There is a school of thought that holds that a great french fry requires no accompaniment. Beauchamp's Bistro belongs to this school. The crinkle fry, triple-fried in canola, makes its argument in silence. The crispness is aspirational. The potato flavor is present and largely coherent. The argument is persuasive. The address is committed to memory.”

“One does not seek drama at Beauchamp's Bistro. One seeks fries. The crinkle format is a declaration of intent, and the kitchen largely honors it. The crispness is aspirational. The potato flavor emerges mid-experience, which is somewhat later than ideal but not without its own logic. The grease content is generous in the manner of a host who means it. The napkin earns its keep. This guide recommends visiting without expectations and departing, perhaps, with adjusted ones. The neighborhood offers alternatives. One should not investigate them.”

“On a Tuesday evening in Morningside Heights, one discovers that Beauchamp's Bistro has opinions about potatoes. The crinkle format is a declaration. The triple-fried exterior is aspirational. The interior communicates the potato's agricultural origins — present and largely coherent. The grease is generous in the manner of a host who means it. These opinions are, on balance, correct. In the final accounting, the fries are the only item that matters. Beauchamp's Bistro knows this.”

“The crinkle fry at Beauchamp's Bistro does not apologize for existing. This is, as it turns out, the correct posture. The crispness is aspirational. The potato interior is present and largely coherent. The grease is generous in the manner of a host who means it. One admires the lack of apology and returns to express this admiration. One proceeds. One is glad one did.”