OK, last one of these for a while, I promise. I got a lot of good questions yesterday.

I’m coupling these questions because they cover similar territory. The Primanti Brothers’ innovation is adding french fries to their sandwiches, a concept I found extremely strong in inspiration and slightly less so in execution due to some soft french fries (though with the added bonus of cole slaw).

When adding starch to the innately starchy sandwich, we must ask ourselves: Why? French fries are delicious pretty much anywhere, be they on top of a sandwich or beside it. But what can they add to a sandwich besides salt and some grease (and I mean no disrespect to salt or grease)? Unless they’re fried crispy, they just add a mushy layer of potato-stuff that could easily be drowned out by any of the more flavorful elements on a sandwich.

That’s where potato chips come in. They have the potential to add both the same salty, potatoey goodness of french fries as well as the elusive crunchiness, ever absent on even many of the best sandwiches.

The problem, of course, is that if your sandwich has much dressing or any greasier elements, the chips could easily become soggy and their effect ruined. The successful addition of potato chips to a sandwich requires both a strong sense of sandwich construction and efficiency in its execution. That’s no small feat, and I believe the reason most sandwich purveyors do not offer potato chips atop their creations.

Previti Pizza does a solid job of it, but you’ll note that in that review I mentioned how the chips “don’t hold perfectly hold their crunchiness.” Sentence fail in context.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, Andrew. That’s a loaded question. For which type of food?

I generally keep three hot sauces in my fridge at any given time: Frank’s, Sriracha and Cholula. Frank’s is obviously there for wing-making purposes. The other two are pretty versatile and not at all like each other. And though I tend to use Sriracha for Asian-inspired foods and Cholula for Mexican dishes, there are times when you just want to try Sriracha on a taco or Cholula on your drunken noodles, and it turns out it’s all pretty delicious.

If I could only have one, I’d probably go with the Cholula — and not just because they sponsor this network (longtime readers of this blog know the Cholula bottles were present in the picture of my desk long before that deal ever came down). It’s got a thicker texture than most hot sauces, which I like, and good flavor even if it’s not the spiciest hot sauce in the world. Unfortunately I’ve yet to receive any free Cholula as fallout from that deal, which is total B.S.

As for mustard: Man, there are just so many different delicious types of mustard. I guess if I had to pick one, I’d probably go with Nance’s Hot Mustard — a smooth-textured and versatile but very assertive mustard, full of mustardy bite.

I love White Castle. I think the key to enjoying White Castle is moderation. The burgers are so small and delicious that you want to have like 15 of them, but the only way you’re going to be able to stomach them is if you limit yourself to three or four. Do that and you not only develop a taste for them, you start getting The Crave every time you see a White Castle. I’m pretty sure White Castle burgers are chemically addictive.

I don’t go there now as often as I did when I lived in Fort Greene and it was nearby, but I tend to get one regular cheeseburger, one bacon cheeseburger and one jalapeno cheeseburger. And every time I do, I have no idea why I bothered because they all just taste like White Castle. Delicious White Castle.

Worth noting: My father loves White Castle. Just f@#$ing loves it. He grew up near one and had to walk past it on his way home from high school, and I guess he developed a pretty strong dependence. He doesn’t get to go as often as he’d like, I think, because my mom doesn’t care for it and it’s a bit out of the way for him now.

A few years ago, he went to take my grandmother out to lunch and asked her where she wanted to go.

“What was the name of that place on Sunrise Highway in Lynbrook, with the tiny cheeseburgers?” she asked.

I imagine this had to be, for my father, the absolute best direction a lunch date with his mother could have gone. He asked her if she meant White Castle, and indeed she did. She had The Crave. So they went.

A week later, my father went back to take her out again, and eagerly asked her if she wanted to go to White Castle again.

“Oh no,” she said. “That’s the type of thing you only want once every 40 years.”