Best French Fries In The US

It’s a testament to April Bloomfield’s wide reach that she can put out two very different types of fries at two of her most beloved New York restaurants, and both of them are showstoppers. Unlike the pile of thin shoestrings downtown at the Spotted Pig, the fries at the Breslin (inside the Ace Hotel) are thicker, and thrice-cooked—first boiled, then fried over low heat, then fried at a higher heat—to give them the creamiest of innards and the deepest gold, crispiest skin. Be sure to ask for a side of cumin mayonnaise to dip them in.

These crinkle fries are all about the atmosphere—best enjoyed in Maine’s warmer months, walking along Old Orchard Beach’s mildly kitschy pier along the Atlantic. Load up a box of them with vinegar and some extra salt, or order yours poutine style, topped with gravy and cheese curds. Either way, they’re the perfect salty summer treat.

These dark-but-not-super-crisp fries come in tubs that range from large to jumbo, served alongside a classic American boardwalk (lots of airbrush t-shirts and candy and rides). But the real kicker here is the malt vinegar, which you’re encouraged to shake liberally over your fries—it gives the top ones a good hit of tang and makes the bottom layer a bit soft, but in the most pleasant of ways. Like salt and vinegar chips, but in fry form.

Hyde Park treats its fries like many people treat fried chicken: by soaking cut potatoes in buttermilk, battering them, and then frying them. They’re served with a side of mayo that’s kicked up with jalapeños and dill. Possibly the most famous fries in Austin, and deservedly so.

These fries are fried in duck fat not once but three times, which lends a good crisp exterior and that gorgeous duck fat flavor. They are then topped with a 100° egg, and cold béarnaise sauce. Some of the most decadent fries you can find, and definitely worth the fatty splurge.

The secret to the ultra-crispy (but never burnt) fries at New York’s go-to hip hotel? They’re coated in chickpea flour before frying. Enjoy them with an A+ view of the Hudson River and whatever fancy cocktail you’re in the mood for.

This bar is best known for its top-notch ginger beer—which it also turns into gingery cocktails, like the fernet-based riff on a Dark & Stormy—but the fries are not to be missed. Rachel Marshall teamed up with Seattle chef Monica Dimas to come up with the recipe, which yields the perfect balance of crispy outsides and creamy innards. You can also choose from a wide array of dipping sauces. Just be warned: the fries are enough for two or three people. (Even very hungry fry lovers.)

Here, fries are called Crack Fries, and they have an extremely devout following. They’re thinner than average, beer battered before frying, and seasoned with cacio-e-pepe levels of black pepper. Pair yours with one of the local Michigan craft beers on tap.

Yes, this is a French fry restaurant. And no, it’s not just a gimmick; Pommes Frites makes excellent fries. These are among Manhattanites’ favorite fries, and for good reason: they’re perfectly executed Belgian-style frites, served in a paper cone, thicker-cut and freshly fried, always. Pair them with one of 28 different types of sauces: as is traditional in Europe, most of them are mayo-based. There’s also a sun-dried tomato option, a black truffle option, and a barbecue option.

Chef Nathanial Zimet calls his food “fine dining for the people”—and this philosophy is perhaps best exemplified by his French fries, which are dressed up in garlic butter and Parmesan cheese and served alongside Wagyu beef brisket. If you want to go all out, finish your meal with some Krispy Kreme bread pudding.

In the building that once housed Nancy Silverton’s Campanile, chef Walter Manzke is serving some of Los Angeles’ most popular fries. He steams them, slightly dehydrates them, and then fries them in a combination of peanut oil and beef fat. They’re flecked with herbs and served in a cone—which makes them that much easier to dig into with eager hands.

At Langer’s you’ll find the classic deli fry—crinkly and only lightly crisp, but plentiful and cheap—and many of its fans. More importantly, you’ll find Pastrami Chili Cheese Fries, perhaps the most diner-y mashup of protein and fried potatoes that you’ll find. If cheese and crinkle fries and meat are what you’re after, this might be the best way to combine them.

This restaurant specializes in fries and beer, and it’s open late—’til 2 AM—on Fridays and Saturdays. Which is a godsend to those looking for something crispy and golden to soak up the night’s booze of choice. Here the hand-cut fries are made in the Belgian style, crisp-golden on the outsides and medium thickness, with a soft interior and plenty of dipping sauces to choose from. Go crazy with cheese fries, or poutine, or just a side of warm bacon-Parmesan dip.

This little sandwich shop is beloved by locals, thanks in no small part to its hallmark dish: hand-cut fries turned golden in a bath of duck fat and showered with just the right amount of salt. The place’s poutine is even made with duck gravy. And you can always order a salad made from locally-sourced greens to go along with your tricked-out fries, if you’re into that sort of thing. (There’s also a smoked duck breast and kale option, if you want to go all-in.)

Manhattan’s luxe-classic French brasserie offers frites just as classic as its white tablecloths, just as thin and as crispy as you’d expect. They appear leggy and golden in a paper cone, unless you’re ordering the steak frites—Balthazar’s most-ordered dish—in which case they come in a heap, nestled in next to their meaty partner.

Garlic fries are a San Francisco staple: fresh-cut medium-thickness fries cooked ‘til they’re golden and topped with fresh garlic and bright green flecks of parsley. And these are the populist favorite, served inside AT&T Park, where the San Francisco Giants play. Avoid at all costs if you’re afraid of garlic breath; if you’re not, dig in, and don’t be afraid to get seconds during the seventh inning stretch.

Here, the “dirty fries” are topped with pork scraps, marinated peppers, fried herbs, and Parmesan—a perfectly Portland sort of fry, with all the flavor and texture to back it up. Little bits of skin are left on these hand-cut fries, so you get even more texture here than you would with a paler version. Pair them with one of ten (mostly West Coast) beers on tap.

What’s French for “cheese fries”? We’re not sure, but probably something that looks like the fries on order at Au Cheval: covered in Mornay sauce (a Bechamel with Gruyere) and an egg, whose yolk creates its own sort of sauce. The fries that lie beneath are hand-cut and skin-on, and sturdy enough to stand up to all that sauce. You’ll want your fork and knife for this one.

These aren’t just thick-cut fries; they’re jumbo, plumped up versions of perfect belgian frites, dark and crispy on the outside and creamy on the inside, but far thicker than average. They’ve developed quite the following at this Georgetown restaurant, where they are cooked three times: in water, then oil, then duck fat, for a rich, deep finish.