Frisbees Review: Lord Of The Fries

Have you ever bitten into a hamburger, closed your eyes and felt something incomprehensible; the feeling of being one with the universe, the feeling of true serenity, the feeling of having all your problems melt away before you with every single bite, with every single delightful whiff of the multitude of mystical aromas? I have. But this story isn’t about one of those times. This is about a burger joint called Frisbees that just so happens to make some of the nicest French Fries we’ve had so far.

If you ever find yourself wandering the streets of Chimbai village, Bandra which I absolutely suggest you do (it’s a strangely exhilarating mix of old and dilapidated, and quaint and pinterest-y) you will come across something that sticks out of the surrounding fish market and old bungalows like a sore thumb. That sore thumb is Frisbees.

frisbees-adam-priime-alpine

Frisbees is only slightly more spacious than a Toyota Innova, but that’s still a hell of a lot better than Imbiss, whose seating space is rivalled by the backseat of most auto-rickshaws.  Still, the seating arrangements are pretty uncomfortable and there’s a 50% chance you’ll fall over backwards because someone had the bright idea of using picnic benches instead of chairs. They also have these cool little capsules that expand into napkins when you dip them in water. It has absolutely nothing to do with the food, but it’s worth a mention.

frisbees-tissue-priime-alpine

TBR Insight: Don’t try and eat the little capsules on the table, they aren’t mints, they’re napkins.

Now let’s talk about things you can eat; we went to Frisbees to check out their fish burgers (which we heard were awesome) but they got our order wrong and served us a chicken one instead. My first instinct would have been to throw a fit and blame my problems on immigrants and minorities, but I only realised that I was eating a chicken burger when I was already three quarters of the way through. While it did make me question my prowess as a fake food critic and was way too embarrassing to take up with the staff, it did give me the opportunity to revaluate my feelings towards chicken.

Crunchy Chicken Burger

Price: Rs.250

frisbees-burger-priime-alpine

The Crunchy Chicken Burger has an unnecessary amount of lettuce on it, which I as a grown man wasted eight minutes of my life trying to unsuccessfully remove. The patty was mostly bland, and while I did like the bread, its structural integrity bothered me. All of Frisbees burgers are extremely sloppy and it’s impossible to even pick them up without some part falling apart. Some people like that, but I don’t because it’s disgusting. The beetroot-mayo sauce, which is what sounds like the least appetising condiment in existence was actually really good; but what I enjoyed most about the meal, wasn’t the burger at all. It was the complementary French fries, which were as delicious as they were spicy.

Mix Herbed Fries

Price: Rs.90

frisbees-fries-priime-alpine

Frisbees fries are extremely underrated. The fries could literally be the only thing they serve there and I’d still consider going. The mixed herb fries were giant slabs of potato, not stingy slivers like you’d expect at a burger joint, and were crisp to the point of being brittle. They kept bits of the potato skin on the fries, which didn’t just make them taste better, but also acted as a not so subtle reminder that they make their own fries, not just pop some McCain’s into the fryer.

If I told you to go to Frisbees because of their exceptional hamburgers, I’d be lying to a degree that would make Zee News blush. But if I told you to go to Frisbees because they had exceptional fries, that would be a truth bomb worthy only of The Bombay Report. But seriously, try the fries.

Comments
Share
Tags from the story
,