I got back from Tassie late on Wednesday and I’ve been thinking about something I only half realised while I was down there. I didn’t have a bad hot chip/french fry the whole time I was one the island. And I ate a lot of hot chips! They seemed to come with everything. And not the tiny, grudging obligatory serve you’d get anywhere else, but rather these heaped high mounds of salty hot carby goodness.
Buried under this mountain was a rather good lobster roll which I ordered, never imagining I’d get half a potato field served up with it.
Not that I complained, of course. I just smashed down the fries.
It was an experience I had again and again. Getting bowls of fries when I wasn’t expecting them. Or getting three times as many as I thought reasonable for a business that hoped to make a profit.
And in every instance, they were great.