By Frank Remele

My hopes weren’t particularly high when I walked in to Taco Bell. In my view, there are only so many ways you can make a fry- too much deviation, and it cannot semantically be considered one. At the same time, Taco Bell had previously achieved greatness in ways that many other fast-food franchises had not. They took ideas we had all envisioned, and made them reality: one need only point to the Doritos Loco Taco, or perhaps the Beefy Fritos Burrito. Though my hopes were not particularly high, I felt they would handily achieve the highest marks within the constraints I had preconceived. Unfortunately, they did not, though because I had truncated my presumptions, there was the duality of a high floor to go along with the low ceiling.

I ordered a serving from the dollar menu and had no trepidation about the proportional quality. Historically, Taco Bell’s dollar menu gives you the bang for your buck, and prides itself on achieving that standard quite literally. Coupled with a parenthetical “new” emblazoned before its self-announcement, it gave the illusion that your dollar had significantly more value than you would otherwise appreciate. During the brief wait for my eatery I took the opportunity to read the reviews already published. There was some ostensible consensus that the fries weren’t too great, but I held these with great skepticism. Typically, critics have a strong dichotomy with the masses, and I trust the latter far more. One must take into consideration the vast amount of food that critics consume, and they are absolutely craving ambitious projects that differ wildly from the general narrative that is uniformly replicated.

The Eater’s Robert Sietsema wrote a dismayed piece on the fries, but I found his review to be hyper-analytical. He was reaching for elements of the food to be disappointed with, when there were legitimate concerns- they just weren’t those that he was attacking. For example, he reproaches the chemical composition of the cheese as too dissimilar from true food, with “Consulting the Taco Bell website, the ingredients turn out to be, in decreasing order of importance: “nonfat milk, cheese whey, canola oil, modified food starch, cheddar cheese (cultured milk, salt, enzymes), maltodextrin, natural flavors, contains less than 1% of: sea salt, jalapeno puree, potassium phosphate, vinegar, autolyzed yeast extract, lactic acid, potassium citrate, sodium caseinate, citric acid, color added (Including yellow #6), sodium stearoyl lactylate, cellulose gum.” Not bad, really, but it didn’t quite register as food.” Sorry, Rob, but your expectations must be tamed assuming you realize the characteristics of a restaurante de comida rápida. Many items at Taco Bell (or McDonald’s, to that end) fare far worse with respect to their chemical concoction. Deleterious foods comprise the entirety of ALL fast food menus. Any dissent to that charge is a matter of willful ignorance.

Upon receiving the fries, I noticed immediately that the size was fitting for the cost. This is not to say that the serving size was paltry; rather, if you’re starving and have a buck to spend, it would ameliorate some of your pain. The fries were reminiscent of potato wedges in that they were larger than conventional fries, and had a crisp, brown shade to them. They were discernible as fries in that they had both geometric fry properties and geometric fry-holder properties (this is the most apt way to describe them.) The cheese appeared identical to that of standard nacho cheese, but nacho cheese is universally appealing, so they are to be lauded for that.

I dipped a fry into my cheese, and took a bite. It was remarkably good, but I realized that conventional nachos elicited a similar reaction from me, if not better. I had to appraise the fries in their own regard, as that really was what I sought to investigate. I don’t need more nacho cheese- I have buckets at home. Biting into the standalone fry, I was wholly disappointed.  I tasted a pungent, sweet sensation that was not okay on its own, nevermind as a product to be eaten hand-in-hand with a dip. Thankfully, the nacho cheese was able to negate the entirety of that sensation. But they sort of canceled out a symposium of good and evil with the good just narrowly winning (I was not able to taste the fry with the cheese, and I scarcely tasted the cheese.) It doesn’t matter, really, that the better qualities of the meal were less faint than the worse. Because as a consumer, I shouldn’t have to rely on the former, and neither should you. If by and large, you are a nacho cheese fan wherever it manifests, than Taco Bell’s Nacho Fries might just be for you. You would need to view the fries merely as a catalyst for the cheese. But for the vast majority of happy eaters, I would not recommend this. It’s bearable, but it shouldn’t have to be just that. As for that Taco Bell corporate, I just hope you guys bring the stackers back.