Let me tell you a story: After I graduated from college, I moved to France for a little while, to teach English and find my bearings in the big, scary world outside of the college bubble. When I was getting ready to make my triumphant return to the states, I decided that I would try living in New York (I’m originally from Northern California). So I packed my bags and came straight here, after two panicked and bewildering days wandering around in Charles de Gaulle. I had lined up a place to stay in Manhattan while I looked for a job and an apartment, but for various reasons, that situation didn’t work out, and I very quickly found myself homeless, jobless, and broke in a gigantic, expensive, and unfamiliar city.

Things get familiar and quite delicious, over here

My lovely and wonderful little sister, Meg, arrived for a short but much-needed visit a couple weeks ago. As it happened, her visit also coincided briefly with the visit of Leah, one of my dearest and closest friends from Oberlin. The seemingly ever-looming rain had returned, so the prospect of going on big adventures didn’t seem so appealing, but we decided to get dinner in the neighborhood, rain be damned (okay, so by the time we went out the rain had pretty much slowed to a drizzle, but we’re still a pretty intrepid bunch). We went to the always cozy and delicious Habitat. I’ve gotta tell you, I’ve loved french fries since I was no bigger than an easy bake oven and thus consider myself somewhat of a french fry connoisseur. And as a self-proclaimed fry expert (fryspert?), I feel confident saying that the waffle fries at Habitat are magnifique – some of my favorites at the moment.

What not to not eat, after the sauté.