One of my favorite day dreams is of opening a little caf� in Paris. Instead of steak frite or boeuf bourguignon I would serve American food. I'm not talking about Alice Water's California food either, I'm talking about real American Food. One of the main courses might be Frito Pie. To prepare this Texas delicacy, split a smallish bag of Fritos lengthwise down the back of the bag. Then spoon some chili and cheese on top (maybe some green onions too). Enjoy.

I would also serve the infamous tater tot cheese casserole, corndogs and maybe even swanky frankies (bacon wrapped, cheese coated hotdogs). Perhaps my caf� (called something like "Chrissy's Eats") would create a buzz or even a national trend towards American trash food. The French would flock to my kitchen with a mix of excitement and apprehension. They would love me for smashing down their tired, old shelter of shallots and tarragon. They would revere me for introducing them to the pasteurized cheese food product�

My sister is quick to point out the motivations for this daydream. Basically, I resent the French. You see, "haute cuisine" as it is known actually bounced around Europe for most of the last millennia. Many dishes that we think of as French actually originated in England (yes, England), Russia or Spain. Depending on a country's economic situation, the culinary culture either flourished or fizzled. The industrial revolution did a lot for England, but didn't help the food. In the end, France was left holding the bag. In a sneaky game of gustatory musical chairs, France stole the show. They now bask in the glory that should rightly belong to all of, or at least most of Europe. France is the much more attractive little sister of Europe that isn't too smart but is adored by everyone regardless. And France deserves to eat a heapin' helpin' of Frito Pie.