refried fries? or is country fried fries..no I know...

Today found me combing the countryside for horse feed...AGAIN. Its got to be the only place in the world where one buys ones feed at a hardware store. How this came about I'm not sure. Nails? check. fertilizer? check. gopher poison? check? horse feed?....well, you get the picture. Anyhow, I did locate a hardware store in Castle Hayne about 15 miles away that has almost all the items I need for the babies and the customer service there is great. The one tiny problem is that sometimes they are out of stuff. So after one frustrating trip up there this summer where they had NONE of the items I needed in stock..I learned to call first. I'm very proud of myself for this arrangement and followed through on my end this morning before leaving the house. When I got there I casually placed my order and to my surprise and dismay they where out of Enpower a very key ingredient in Cuervos bucket. After many apologies from the counter people and the warehouse people, they informed me there was sure to be some on Thursday...to late for me really so I took off up the road in search of more. Three hardware stores later somewhere around Rocky Point, I gave in. I was hungry and I figured on line was a way more effective way to shop for nutrena dealers. Anyhow at one pleasant little place where I bought a straw sun hat. I asked the clerks where to grab a bite to eat....I was steered to Paul's Place( that asshole!*)*Inside joke but it came about because a moniker was needed and not much rhymes with Paul who had just ended our relationship. Its funnier with the right people. wink wink! ANYHOW, Paul's Place turned out to be a very crowded hot dog stand. A hot dog restaurant if you will, with tables and such. I stood cheek to jowl with dozens of men in varying degrees of sweaty labor wear waiting to place my order. I know, I know, I don't eat this type of food, but I was really hungry and I was no where near anything any better. I figured fries and a water and I'm good till I get home. I had plenty of time to peruse the menu, which consisted of fries, hot dogs and sodas. You got four choices really, a hot dog with mustard, with chili, with relish or loaded which I guessed was mustard and chili and relish. From there your choices where two, three or four of those babies. Hot dogs are one of those foods, much like spam or sardines that don't really sound so bad until you bite into it then it all comes back to you how vile they really are! They even kind of smell good when they are grilled. My turn comes up and I try to order my fries and a drink and skedaddle but this was confusing to the help. They wanted to make sure I got the most for my money after all and a dog, fries and a drink where a better value. Okay, just give me my grease stained bag and I'm outta here would ya? sheesh! Well, call it hunger pangs, or simply the mind addling presence of so many unwashed testosterone ridden, zaftig men. I got in my car and tried that dog. Hmmm, well... Lets just say the chickens got a nice little snack when I got home and leave it at that shall we. I did however eat a few fries to tide me over and that's where my busy little brain gets me into trouble. Give it a good dose of salt, some grease and starch and the thing starts ruminating on all kinds of inane things. Which brings me to the title of this installment. How come fries here in the south, and I mean all restaurant fries seem batter fried? Truth! They are not smooth or baked like steak fries or Mcdonaldesque. They are like twice fried ,fries or something. They are really crunchy and seasoned and the insides are like mashed potatoes. That's it! they are like a fried mashed potato stick. It true, I'm not sure why unless one company has the monopoly here in Hampstead and beyond in french fry sales. But its the weirdest thing. I fondly remember the south being known for its home fries. Where are those tasty little morsels now?