French-Fry Potato Salad

Not just a salad, a way of life. Wouldn’t my snarky Irish ancestors be super proud?

FYI, my family fled the Irish potato famine when I was only 7 years old and just getting into it, learning to make lemons out of lemonade, as the Irish often will, turning bad luck and misfortune backwards and into something twisty and perverse.

To this day, there is no bad situation that, with a little extra effort, I can’t screw up even more.

Which is why it’s important for all of us to keep a supple heart. Who knows what life may bring?

I remind you of that as I share with you now, my much-anticipated recipe for potato salad made with store-bought frozen fries, crisped in the oven. Or even that bag of takeout fries, three days in the fridge.

Wouldn’t my snarky Irish ancestors be proud? I can just hear the great chefs of the world, thinking, “Dang, wish I’d thought of that!”

Now maybe you’ll understand why I’ve become an important “influencer?”

Here’s the thing about influencers: They are often incredibly beautiful, like me and Martha Stewart. Influencers are often paid huge sums for endorsing products they don’t really care about in the first place.

That is decidedly not me, though I’m not above that. You have to “seize opportunity at every opportunity.” I learned that at Harvard.

Hence, I have yet to be paid, though when Ore-Ida, or one of the other makers of frozen fries, gets wind of this culture-changing dish, the dollars and restraining orders may finally begin to flow.

Heads-up: This dish is almost a Canadian poutine; it’s also very close to being a sonnet or a poem.

When you first taste this, you’re going to wish Longfellow were alive, just to capture the deep emotions summoned by this white-trash potato salad.

As it is, a book deal and a major motion picture are already in the works. The animated Minions franchise would be a natural fit, since Minions are yellow, like fries, and some of our finest working thespians.

Granted, I recently vowed never to see another Minions movie. The minions are cute, I’ll grant you that. But so are certain vermin. Honestly, I’d rather be slowly consumed by crabs than watch another Minions movie.

So, we may end up passing on “Minions VIII,” the one in which Gru opens a diner and begins pouring Minions into the deep fryer by mistake (can’t you just hear them bumper-car running around and chattering with unfounded fear?).

Remember, Americans latch onto a lot of simple stuff, that’s our main contribution to global culture.

Seriously, remember all the fuss about ranch dressing during the recent World Cup, how visitors discovered and loved a common dressing that we’d always taken for granted?

I expect french-fry potato salad will ride that same wave of what I call “a mystifying illogic” . . . the kind that leads to incredible success for stuff that makes no sense. Like K-Pop Demon Hunters, for instance. Or mushroom coffee.

One last note before my final note: There is probably nothing as beloved as french fries. I often order fries with a side of fries. It’s probably the closest I will ever get to a threesome.

Like many, I prefer steak fries — you know those big fat honkers the size of a canoe. I also, as you know, have a weak spot for actresses of a certain age, 65 to 110.

Specialists have traced this predilection — fries and aging actresses — to the same genetic trigger that makes me bark and sing opera after a second gin.

I’m also prone to launching into limericks and theories about the Irish economy. Trust me: It’s fun from a distance.

Unfortunately, there is no cure for this. You must learn to live with it.

That’s what I’ve done with all my shortcomings, which are vast and mostly unconquerable.

Without further ado, here’s the recipe for frozen french-fry potato salad, which really needs no introduction, no elaborate stream-of-consciousness explanation whatsoever, as you’ll soon see.

In the end, I’d like to be remembered, not for my contributions to science, or the humor arts, or the seven Nobel Prizes, but for this simple recipe:

FRENCH-FRY POTATO SALAD

—Bunch of frozen fries, baked crisp in the oven.

—Add diced dill pickle, red onion, mayo, Dijon and salt and pepper to taste.

— Add a smidgen of Worcestershire sauce.

—Add a pixel, a K-Pop, of horseradish.

—Cram it all together in a bowl and tilt-a-whirl it around a few times.

— Sprinkle with paprika.

—Serve chilled.

Your world may never be the same.

Coming next: Boats, Babies, puppies and so much more.

Suzanne’s new pup doesn’t yet have a name. Contenders are Sneakers, Cinder, Pixel, Fred, Milly, Bosco and George Nicolette Rothchild III.

—Excerpt from next column