I see very good potential in the logo’s other mythic mainstay—the “legendary” french fries. Made with fresh-cut potatoes, they’re blanched in hot peanut oil, allowed to rest, and then recrisped in the oil. They really are vastly better than the kind of uniform tasteless sticks that so often masquerade as pommes frites. Two quibbles: Early on, each order of fries had an overabundance of too-small, blackened potato pieces—the effect was unsatisfying, not unlike a box of movie popcorn loaded with unpopped kernels. Dave’s people seemed to have improved on this score by my later visits. But they still need to work on texture—the potatoes are not always getting fully crisped on that second fry. I’d say that with a few tweaks, the fries, available in a generous single or obscene double portion, have the potential for greatness. I liked Dave’s thin crispy sweet-potato chips too, although using the “signature honey mustard dipping sauce” was like dunking your chips in cinnamon-maple syrup.
The menu also includes a few salads, among which I tried the Cobb, a mix of very fresh and clean greens, crisp bacon, and a surprisingly good balsamic vinaigrette dressing, although here again there’s a need for better cheese.
Although the business is geared to carryout, the headliner items did not travel well. The burgers dried up and the fries became irretrievably soggy by the time we got them home, a ten-minute drive.