Locked and Loaded 

• Alex Springer

Lately, I've started to wonder about the role of spectacle in the food we eat. I mean, it's always been there—from the complicated composition of the Swedish princess torte to the debauched excess of the overstuffed turducken, there is something universally appealing about food that takes its visual cues from arena rock concerts.

Culinary spectacle is catnip in the age of social media, where the experience of going out to eat often dwarfs the food itself, which is why locals have already started flocking to Mr. Fries Man (multiple locations, mrfriesman.com). My question going into this review was simple—is Mr. Fries Man just another style-over-substance import? Or do their cyclopean food piles actually cut the mustard?

Mr. Fries Man began as a backyard operation for Los Angeles residents Craig and Dorothy Batiste back in 2016. Essentially, the Batistes were looking to push the boundaries of traditional cheese fries by adding toppings like steak, shrimp and fried chicken. Their monstrous concoctions soon became famous on social media, creating enough demand to support several brick-and-mortar locations in the Los Angeles area. In 2020, Mr. Fries Man started to develop out-of-state franchises, and this year they have set their sights on Utah, with a location in West Jordan (3778 Center View Way, Ste. 150, 385-281-2878) and one in Herriman (13338 S. Rosecrest Road, Ste. D, 385-787-1954). Since loaded fries are something I'd put on the food pyramid of Utah dining, we were a safe bet for the Mr. Fries Man concept.

The menu includes several signature plates like the chicken bacon parmesan ($17.85) and the chili cheese ($10.25), along with a build-your-own plate option that offers a wide variety of proteins—including plant-based—and sauces. As it was my inaugural visit, I opted for the Fry Box ($54.85), which comes with a fixed quartet of BBQ bacon ranch chicken, buffalo chicken, lemon garlic shrimp and honey garlic shrimp with steak.

If, like me, you did a spit take when you saw the prices, I have to agree that the place is a bit pricey. Sure, they have toppings like shrimp, crab and steak, but prices like these tend to make me a bit more critical—especially if we're talking about obscenely loaded cheese fries.

When I cracked open the Fry Box—essentially a 14-inch pizza box full of fries and toppings—I was impressed at how uniform each of the quadrants looked. Regardless of the meaty wonders contained within, I decided to start with the naked fries, as they are the foundational element of the entire restaurant. They're medium cut russets with a bit of brown crispy skin on the tips. They've been fried to the point where they have enough structural integrity to maintain a pleasant texture when soaked in sauce, and have a solid potato flavor. I was worried they'd be overly salted, which would threaten to put the saline level of the whole plate into dangerous territory, but any seasoning was mild at best. Overall, these are good workhorses for the Mr. Fries Man concept, but they're not the greatest fries of all time—that title staunchly remains with Bruges Waffles and Frites.

Of the four toppings that come in the Fry Box, the honey garlic shrimp with steak was my favorite. A bit of surf-and-turf on top of some golden fries can't really go south, after all. I couldn't find any fault with the toppings here. The shrimp was plump and not rubbery, and the steak was tender and well-seasoned. I know shrimp and melted cheese isn't a widely utilized combo, but it works on pizza, and by damn, it works on fries too. I thought the same thing about the lemon garlic shrimp, and it makes me want to try the crab out as well

For the chicken options, you get the choice between grilled and fried chicken. I went with fried because I was planning to double down on debauchery, but it's the wrong move. The fried chicken comes in nugget form, which isn't inherently bad, but it did have a very problematic texture. It's the kind of gravelly breading that overpowers the chicken with its aggressively crenulated girth. Plus, I think ours was a tad on the burnt side. At the end of the day, both the BBQ bacon ranch chicken and buffalo chicken would have been much improved with grilled chicken instead of fried.

As far as spectacle goes, Mr. Fries Man has it in spades. It's hard to resist looking at one of their heaping plates of loaded fries and not post it on Instagram. In the substance area, this place is good, but not great, and a big part of that judgement comes from the prices. Mr. Fries Man is tasty, and I'd say most normal humans could split one plate between two people, so maybe I'm getting a bit too bent out of shape about spending 20 to 50 bucks on piles of fries. Regardless, our local ardor for loaded fries will make this place a welcome addition to the scene.