French Fries — Golden, Crispy, and Every Bit as Orange as the Birthday Boy Deserved

Elijah turns five. June 15th. The birthday boy who only eats orange foods is FIVE. Five years of chicken nuggets and mac and cheese and carrots and Goldfish and the stubborn, sunny refusal to acknowledge that food comes in other colors. Five years of this child — the easiest one, the happiest one, the one who arrived in a pandemic and decided the world was fine anyway, the one whose father lives in Atlanta and sends birthday presents that always arrive on time because Terrence is not Marcus and never will be.

The birthday party: at Sarah's Table. Where else? The restaurant that is three months into its expansion, three months into dinner service, three months into the version of itself that has twelve stools and four tables and a reading corner and a smoker and the smell of James's brisket drifting out the door on Gallatin Pike like a love letter to the neighborhood. Elijah's party was at 3 PM on a Saturday — between lunch close and dinner prep — and the guest list was: five kindergarten-bound friends, Oliver (his best friend since preschool, the kid who taught Elijah that "orange" includes sweet potatoes, a revelation that expanded the boy's dietary universe by approximately 4%), Mama, Chloe, Jayden, and Terrence (who drove from Atlanta, who always drives from Atlanta, who would drive from the moon if Elijah asked).

The cake: orange. Obviously. Chloe made it — a three-layer orange cake with orange cream cheese frosting and orange sprinkles and a fondant "5" in, you guessed it, orange. The cake was so aggressively orange that it looked like it had been designed by the sun. Elijah saw it and said: "THAT'S MY CAKE." That's my cake. The possessive joy of a five-year-old who sees his favorite color in frosting form. The cake was: his. The color was: his. The day was: his. Everything orange was: Elijah's.

Terrence gave him a kid's keyboard — a little Yamaha with light-up keys, because Terrence is a music producer and of course his gift is musical, of course the man who makes sounds for a living wants his son to make sounds too. Elijah sat at the keyboard and pressed every key once, very seriously, like a tiny concert pianist evaluating an instrument. Then he played the same note seventeen times in a row and laughed. The music career is: undetermined. The enthusiasm is: maximum.

Birthday dinner: chicken nuggets. Not the frozen kind — I made them from scratch. Buttermilk-brined, double-dredged, fried in Earline's cast iron because even chicken nuggets deserve the skillet. Served with mac and cheese (baked, three cheeses, the recipe I've been making since Jayden was a baby and demanded cheese on everything). Carrot sticks on the side because the birthday boy insists on a complete orange palette. And cornbread, obviously. The cornbread is always there. The cornbread doesn't care what color your birthday is.

Five. My baby is five. The last one. The one I didn't plan and wouldn't trade. The one who looks like Terrence and laughs like me and eats like a traffic cone. Five years ago I was in a hospital room during a pandemic, alone except for a nurse and a FaceTime screen, and I was terrified, and now the terrified has become a boy who presses keyboard keys one at a time and wears orange shoes and starts kindergarten in August and is, by every measure I have, doing beautifully. Beautifully. The word is: beautifully. The boy is: beautiful. The five is: everything.

Terrence stayed for the weekend. He slept on the air mattress in the living room (we don't have a guest room — we barely have rooms at all, but the apartment works and working is enough). He took Elijah to the park on Sunday morning while I prepped for Monday's lunch service. Co-parenting with Terrence is the thing I got right. The thing that proves that people who couldn't be together can still build something good for the person they made. The thing is: Elijah. The good is: him. Always him.

Every dish on Elijah’s birthday table had to earn its place, and these french fries earned it on color alone — golden, crispy, and undeniably orange, the exact shade my boy has been loyal to since before he could say the word. I serve them alongside the nuggets and the mac and cheese because this is what five looks like at our table: a whole spread of everything he loves, nothing he doesn’t, and a mama who has learned that honoring what a child loves is its own kind of celebration. If you’re feeding a kid (or a crowd of kindergartners) and you need something that disappears fast and gets zero complaints, this is the recipe.

French Fries

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 40 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

• 2 lbs russet potatoes (about 4 medium), scrubbed
• 4 cups vegetable oil, for frying
• 1 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
• 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder (optional)
• 1/4 teaspoon black pepper

Instructions

1. Cut the potatoes. Peel potatoes if desired, then cut into 1/4-inch sticks, as uniform as possible so they cook evenly. Place cut fries in a large bowl of cold water and soak for at least 10 minutes (up to 30) to draw out excess starch.
2. Dry thoroughly. Drain the potatoes and spread them on a clean kitchen towel or paper towels. Pat completely dry — any moisture left on the fries will cause dangerous splattering in the oil and prevent crisping.
3. Heat the oil. Pour oil into a heavy-bottomed pot or Dutch oven to a depth of at least 3 inches. Heat over medium-high to 325°F, using a thermometer for accuracy.
4. First fry (par-cook). Working in batches so as not to crowd the pot, fry the potatoes for 3–4 minutes until pale and just tender but not browned. Remove with a slotted spoon to a paper towel-lined tray. Let rest for at least 5 minutes. This step can be done ahead.
5. Raise the heat. Increase the oil temperature to 375°F.
6. Second fry (crisp). Return fries to the hot oil in batches and fry for 2–3 minutes until deep golden brown and crispy. Remove to fresh paper towels.
7. Season immediately. While the fries are still hot, toss with kosher salt, garlic powder (if using), and black pepper. Taste and adjust seasoning. Serve at once.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 310 | Protein: 4g | Fat: 16g | Carbs: 40g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 420mg