Let me cut right to it: Why can’t I get curry fries over here?
Look, I just got back from a work trip to Dublin (where everybody says "Look" to start a sentence), and curry fries are weighing heavy. The trip went as swell as possible. I not only got to cover an all-timer of a football match, but also had my fill of curry chips, in the local parlance, just as I'd hoped and dreamed. Good god, they’re good. And they’re everywhere in the Irish capital.
But upon returning, I got peeved by the lack of curry fries in my own country. How can something so ubiquitous and cheap and delicious over there be impossible to find stateside? We love fries: A 2025 study found the average American eats 17 pounds of 'em a year. Researchers found lots of love for curly fries; curry fries got nothing. I wasn't aware of any place in Washington, D.C., where I live, that sells curry fries. Yeah, OK, my editor may have located a pub that is 1.5 miles from house and serves curry fries shortly after I filed this, but what I truly desire is ubiquity. A huge part of the pleasure of my curry fry experience in Dublin was derived from knowing that the scrumptious snack was never far out of reach. Pubs, chip shops, food trucks—they were everywhere and all had what I wanted.
The dearth of curry fries has puzzled me since my first exposure to this comfort food of the gods, which came about 20 years ago on a Beatles pilgrimage with some buddies to Liverpool, a town known as Ireland's Second Capital. I passed a busy food truck near our hotel late one night and curry chips were the featured item. Everybody was ordering them and my food options were few given the hour so I went all “when in Rome” and was right gobsmacked by the delicious simplicity of steak fries slathered in curry sauce.
The rest of our trip was equally wondrous. We hung out with Pete Best, and he showed us the basement of his house, where he and the Beatles played their first shows and John and Paul painted bugs on the ceiling that were still there. He told us he got drummed out of the band because he was too good looking. And I kept going back for more curry fries, available at chip shops all over town. (I gotta mention the greatest pop song ever written about chip shops, from the generational songwriting genius Kirsty MacColl, who was run over by a boat.) So while curry fries are their own reward, they became dearer to my heart as a reminder of that bon voyage.
I subsequently made several trips to Ireland's actual capital, and discovered curry chips were even easier to find in Dublin than in Liverpool. Though I’m not aware of any definitive history of the curry chip, the roots of this deliciousness date at least as far back as the 18th century, when the evil Brits brought curry back from South Asia along with other imperialist spoils. But when it came to condimenting their chips, they stodgily stayed loyal to salt and vinegar for centuries.
Fast forward to the 1970s, when more adventurous chippers in neighboring Ireland began throwing chicken and cheese and various sauces atop their fried spuds. And of all the newfangled chip toppings, a sauce made with mild curry powder curried the most favor. On my most recent trip, it sure seemed like curry sauce is still the chalk (though curry cheese chips appear to be gaining market share). I love this stuff.
I am aware both curry and potatoes are byproducts of Ireland's colonization by the evil Brits. I’m not saying that the joy brought to me by curry fries has me ready to forgive those mofos for centuries of oppression. But … English evilness was off mind while I shoved curry chips down my piehole. An Gorta Mór gave way to: Am I gonna get more?
Yes, I am. Yes, I did.
But, speaking of famine, now I’m home again, in the land free of curry fries. This makes no sense! I know this country’s got bigger problems, like gun violence and the Reflecting Pool. But this is a quandary we can solve! You know that 250-year-old line about our nation being all about “the pursuit of happiness”? Thomas Jefferson wrote that. You know what else TJ gave us? Fries! No, really! Nothing exemplifies the pursuit of happiness more than me looking for a place that sells curry fries in my homeland!
C'mon America! Curry fries!
Disclosure: While I was whining about the curry fries shortage my wife reminded me that we did see somebody order curry tater tots at an Irish bar in Northern Virginia when we were watching a World Cup match there. Tots are for babies and people who play adult kickball. And that was the burbs. I want curry fries and I want them here and I want them now. (OK. After typing that I want curry tots. I bet they're great.)
