Ok. I admit it. I love fast food. Yeah, I’ve written about everything in moderation. Yeah, I’ve written about how American taste buds are overloaded with this junk. BUT!

You can’t get away from what you grew up with. The purpose of my blog is to link life with food. Food has a part to play in many moments of our lives. Even food which isn’t fancy. Or homemade.

My 10^th birthday party, aside from my 30^th, remains the best birthday party I ever had. It happened at McDonald’s with twenty other little girls. We all wore crowns. A picture was taken of the whole lot of us. I’m in the middle, beaming away. I received tons of presents. I was really into unicorns then and was given a white ceramic unicorn with a gold horn. We packed the mountain of loot in the trunk of the VW Rabbit. When you’re ten, presents and birthdays are a much bigger deal.

A few years later, my father, Grandma H, and me drove out to Illinois to attend my cousin’s wedding. I don’t remember much of that weekend except coming back alone with Dad. We talked and talked. We stopped at fast food joints along the way. I had some mighty crunchy french toast sticks. I will always remember that trip. And the french toast sticks.

When I lived in Baltimore, D picked me up one night after work and took me to Chipotle. I was really tired and so relieved to see him. I was also relieved that I didn’t have to cook. I had never been there before. We sat down with our food and had some silly couple time. I took pictures of him vogueing while wearing my gloves. He was hilarious.

There are other moments. Going to Subway for the sub deal with Mom, then shopping at the nearby Salvation Army. Getting to know my former coworker Kristen better while walking to Wendy’s on our lunch break. Eating nachos from Mighty Taco with my friend Andy in his car at Delaware Park late at night after one of our fast food runs.

You can’t give up these moments and the food that belongs with them. I don’t eat much fast food anymore, maybe once a month? When I do, it’s usually McDonald’s. If I were to make a list of mankind’s greatest inventions, McDonald’s french fries would be near the top. Nothing really compares. Crispy-salty crunch on the outside with a bit of softness within. With ketchup. Always ketchup.

When I was in Buffalo, I knew a guy named Walt and we somehow started waxing poetic about poutine. We’d talk about poutine dates. Did we ever get poutine, Walter? Maybe once? The only poutine around was at Jim’s Steakout. That poutine was simply melted cheese with gravy over fries.

I made another poutine with McDonald’s french fries. I bought three too many boxes. Whoops. My eyes are always bigger than my stomach! At least I didn’t buy too little.

I made gravy from bacon fat. I mixed in a bit of flour, then some beef stock.

I layered the fries with cheese curds, gravy, and bacon (meat is optional). You must use cheese curds. Something about their taste and texture is amazing with fries. I broiled it all, then nuked it for a minute.

When all is said and done, poutine is a beautiful thing. Indulge. Please. You WILL succumb.