Food takes me on spiritual journeys. Seriously. Last week I decided to let one restaurant know about the revolution it brought about in my life. I emailed them. People need to know when their efforts at food perfection are successful.

Dear Five Guys,

Thank you for your wonderful French fries made from real Idaho potatoes and fresh-cooked to perfection in a huge fryer every time I order.

Your fries are the nonpareil of starchy indulgence because of the immense pleasure they bring me, no matter what kind of day it is. Whenever I’m feeling down, I head to my local Lynchburg, Va., Five Guys restaurant for a delicious, salty, flavorful pick-me-up. The other day I was happily reunited with an old friend, and we celebrated at Five Guys, splitting a large bag of fries generously between us in an act of tongue-tingling excitement and camaraderie.

I wanted to let you all know you do a great job on selecting your potatoes, slicing them commendably, frying them just right, and then dumping them, cupful at a time, into loving brown paper bags for an edible enjoyment experience that leaves my fingers greasy, my lips salty and smiling, and my soul wholesomely nourished.

Thanks for all the good times.


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