By Labor Day weekend. The unofficial end of summer, which in Wisconsin means you have about six weeks of perfect weather left before the cold comes back and you hibernate until April. I am determined to enjoy every day of it.
Tom hosted another cookout. Smaller this time — just family. Linda made her German potato salad (she's half German, something the Polish side of the family pretends not to know). Tom grilled. I brought smoked ribs from the balcony smoker — baby backs, rubbed with brown sugar, paprika, garlic powder, and black pepper, smoked for five hours over cherry wood. They were the best ribs I've ever made, and I say that without false modesty because false modesty about ribs is a sin in Wisconsin.
Megan came. She brought Colleen's soda bread, which tells you something — she's already bridging the families in her own way, bringing her mother's food to my parents' table. Linda loved the soda bread. She asked for the recipe. Megan texted Colleen right there at the table and Colleen sent it with a note that said, "Tell your boyfriend's mother that the secret is buttermilk." Linda read the note and said, "I like her mother." The Irish-Polish alliance is forming. God help us all.
After dinner, Megan and I sat on the back porch at Tom and Linda's while they did the dishes inside. The sun was going down and the cicadas were loud and the air smelled like charcoal and cut grass and someone else's bonfire down the block. Megan said, "I really like your parents." I said, "They really like you." She said, "I know." Confidence is her superpower.
School starts next week for Megan, which means her summer is over. She gets quiet this time of year — not sad, just focused. She's thinking about lesson plans and classroom setup and which twenty-five nine-year-olds she'll be responsible for. Teaching is not a job for her. It's a vocation. I admire it the way I admire anyone who knows exactly what they're supposed to be doing.
The ribs were the centerpiece, but every great cookout needs something to fill the gaps on the plate — something casual and a little indulgent that says the night isn’t over yet. Loaded waffle fries have become my go-to for exactly that: they’re fast enough that you’re not stuck inside while everyone else is watching the sunset, and they disappear faster than anything else on the table. On a night like that one — Megan passing her mom’s soda bread around, Linda already texting Colleen back — you want food that feels warm and generous without asking too much of the cook.
Loaded Waffle Fries
Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 20 min | Total Time: 30 min | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 1 bag (22 oz) frozen waffle-cut fries
- 1 1/2 cups shredded sharp cheddar cheese
- 6 slices bacon, cooked and crumbled
- 1/2 cup sour cream
- 3 green onions, thinly sliced
- 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
- 1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
- Salt and black pepper to taste
- Optional: pickled jalapeño slices, hot sauce
Instructions
- Bake the fries. Preheat oven to 425°F. Spread frozen waffle fries in a single layer on a large rimmed baking sheet. Bake for 18–20 minutes, flipping once halfway through, until golden and crispy.
- Season. Remove fries from oven and immediately season with garlic powder, smoked paprika, salt, and black pepper. Toss gently to coat.
- Load them up. Push fries into a single overlapping layer on the baking sheet. Scatter shredded cheddar evenly over the top, then add crumbled bacon. Return to oven for 3–4 minutes, until cheese is fully melted and bubbling.
- Finish and serve. Transfer to a serving platter or serve straight from the pan. Dollop sour cream over the top, scatter green onions, and add jalapeños or hot sauce if using. Serve immediately.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 390 | Protein: 12g | Fat: 22g | Carbs: 36g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 620mg