Frituur Number 1

To begin our journey into the Belgium universe, we need to address the burning question of Fries with Mayonnaise. When John Travolta made his stunning comeback in Pulp Fiction, the world was confronted by a startling truth, the Dutch eat fries with mayonnaise. The horror. We went to see the movie amidst the hype and were sitting in the back row of a full theater. At the moment that Travolta asks Samuel L. Jackson about what the Dutch put on their french fries, just in that breath between the question and answer, my wife, who is Belgian, says out loud, "Mayonnaise" a split second before Travolta. Needless to say, many heads turned. Now, everybody knows the answer, but in 1994, this was knowledge that only the initiated knew. Those were heady days. Holding the key to such knowledge was true power. To see the look on peoples' faces when it was revealed was truly a rush.

We had just moved to Texas from Belgium and everyone wanted to know the truth. Did they really eat fries with mayonnaise? Was this urban legend? Mere Pulp Fiction? Do they eat babies there? 

The answer always made people squirm and go into contortions. Yes, Virginia, they do eat fries with mayonnaise. But more important, they are not French Fries. If you want to ruffle a Belgian's feathers, call them French Fries. Get ready for a scolding. French Fries are Belgian! The name comes from the cooking technique of frenching, or slicing the potato, which the Belgians have taken to an art form. (In fact, there is a slicing method that uses hexagonal cuts to maximize the surface.) And they are quite proud of this art form and resent that the French get the credit. This goes for Jacques Brel and Agatha Christies's Hercule Poirot, both Belgian. Now, doesn't this make Robert Ney and Walter Jones look even more ridiculous for renaming them "Freedom Fries". Should we have also given the Statue of Liberty back? Oops, didn't think that one through, did we.

Back to the Belgian pride of fries, or more correctly, Frieten, or the diminutive frietjes, or the real Flemish fritten. A true Flemish pro, however, just drops the word all together and just says "eene kleine/grote met Mayo," refining the essence of the fries into the abstract. If you have not been to Belgium, you cannot really appreciate the cult status of fritten. It is not a simple food item, it is a statement and a philosophy, it is life. Which Frituur (where the golden manna is made and sold) you go to says a lot about you as a person. If you want to get a Belgian to talk, talk frietjes. You will have made a friend. If you say that you know that they are not French, you have a friend for life, one who will jump in front of tram for you.

If you have not been to a Frituur, let me describe the scene for you. They can either be walk-up and take away, or more luxurious and have a sit down area like a regular fast food restaurant, or a combination of both. This the case with the Frituur Number 1 in Antwerp. Quite possibly, this is the most famous Frituur in Belgium, and by extension, the world. It is a bit of a pilgrimage site for the Belgians. Whereas an American might have his picture taken in Washington D.C. at the Washington Monument or something, a Belgian would swell with pride beside Frituur Number 1. Forget the Manneke Pis, this is Beligum.

As you walk from the Cathedraal towards the Hoogstraat (High Street), you see it. At first you can't really believe it, "Am I dreaming?" you ask. It is true, you have arrived at Frituur Number 1, and your life will never be the same. Originally, it was a simple walk-up and take away format, but over the years, fame and fickle fortune has allowed them to expand on both sides. This is no laughing matter, selling frietjes. Frituur stands are making their way into NYC as well. Soon, they will take over the world. For now, Frituur Number 1 is king of Antwerp. There is always, and I mean always a line. It is a moving sight on cold, rainy Belgian nights to see the warm glow of Frituur Number 1 with people from around the world huddled under the tarp, eating Frietjes met Mayo and discussing the meaning of life. It is world peace incarnate. 

So, how do you order? That is the question at hand. At Frituur Number 1, you will always see a familiar face. The same four people, led by Maria, who gets mentioned by name in Belgian travel guides, have been there since the beginning. The Frituur Number 1 team, dressed in trademark, and truly inexplicable,  pink sweaters and striped aprons are ready to serve you, but you better be qucik. To them, you bark out your order over the din of the other patrons, much like selling stocks on the NYSE floor. If you don't move swiftly, you'll be tossed to the dogs. All is fair in love and war, and in ordering frietjes. Once you jockey up to the front, you will see what has been giving off such a welcoming glow.

All frituur joints have an altar in the form of a refrigerated display case, behind which the server reigns supreme. In the case is a mind-boggling array of items ready to be cast into the vat of boiling oil. Pieces of mystery meat, sausages, entire shish kabobs, hush puppy-looking things, chunks of cheese, if can you name it, it can be fried. Now, to all of you who think that this is odd, there is a trend in America now of deep frying Twinkies and even mac and cheese. Now, who's the one grossed out? Caveat emptor! If you order a "hamburger" you will get a surprise. Instead of a meat patty with a bun, it is a long meat tube of some mysterious origin. By the way, steak americain is raw chopped meat, often with a raw egg on top, in other words steak tartar. And, like in Italy, horse is on the menu. Back to the frietjes, though.

Behind the glass display and the servers, on large stainless steel counters you have the mountain of frietjes, ready to go. Frietjes are twice fried, so when you order from the heap of friets, they now go in for the second time. This results in a specific consistency. This consistency will make or break you. Belgians don't give second chances. It is a sad sight to see a neglected Frituur. If your Frituur fails, you should consider leaving the country in the cover of the night and changing your identity. You are persona non grata, a man without a country and no future. Frituur Number 1, however is the paradigm of success. So, the beckoning call of frietjes tempts you. You can order a kleine or grote. Small is not necessarily small, and the large, well, you better be hungry. There is a restaurant in Dallas, Texas called Snuffer's which has a basket of cheese fries and boasts a hefty caloric count of nearly 3,000. Belgians don't count calories with frietjes. That would be like asking to put a value on your first born child. 

As they place your order in the oil, which has to be checked by health officials quite often, and the oil can also make or break a frituur, you wait with anticipation. You must also decide what sauce you want. Think carefully, order with confidence. Obviously, the most popular is Mayo, but there are about 20-30 other sauces to choose from, including two of my favorite, Curry Ketchup and Americain (again, nothing that I have ever had in America, but a type of spicy 1,000 Island dressing). A note on the Mayonnaise as well is that it is not what most Americans know as Mayonnaise. It is yellow due to mustard, and has a different consistency than what is sold in the states. It is tangy and thicker.

Then, when the frietjes are done frying, you are served. They are lifted from the oil and scooped up into a stainless steel funnel to be dispensed. The most common way is to be put in a small paper dish, wrapped in paper, with two holes torn in the paper wrapping to let the steam out. The sauce is smothered on top. You then huddle (if you choose to eat outside, which I do) in the lean-to and enjoy with a small plastic fork. In Holland, they are more often served in a paper cone. Large, gaudy fiberglass anthropomorphic cones of frietjes are a common site. Frituur Number 1 wouldn't dare to have such crass advertisement. 

So, when does one eat frietjes? The answer, anytime. The first time in Antwerp, I lived on the Haarstraat, which is around the corner from Frituur Number 1, and it was always packed. Day and night. It is where everyone goes after hanging out at a cafe, for example. You go after dinner, you go for dinner. Anytime is the right time for frietjes. 

If you go to Belgium, and specifically Antwerp, then you have not officially visited until you go to Frituur Number 1. And, try the Mayo. Go ahead, you might be surprised.