Disco Fever

Baby Burn, Disco In-Fry-no | Courtesy of Little Rituals Why disco fries are taking over the menu “So, no blonde fries,” says chef David Viana of the platonic ideal of disco fries. “It can’t be mushy. The gravy has to slap. And some people say you can’t have too much cheese, but if it gets too heavy, it actually makes it stick together too much.” As a self-described “Jersey boy,” Viana takes his disco fries seriously. If you grew up outside of the northeast, you may have no idea what he’s talking about. While loaded fries or cheese fries are common enough, disco fries — fries topped with brown gravy and shredded cheese — are specific enough to New Jersey that growing up, I barely saw them on diner menus across the river in New York. But when so many hot new restaurants appear to be riffs on the old school diner or luncheonette (recession indicator??), and when people just want food they can lol at, disco fries have been given a new life, serving as a canvas for the flavors of nearly every cuisine. Finally, they’re listening to us, and discoing the fries. The Tick Tock diner in Clifton, New Jersey, takes credit for inventing disco fries, though given their similarity to poutine, it’s likely they weren’t the only diner to think of topping fries with cheese and gravy. They got their name, supposedly, in the ’70s, when hungry people coming back from the disco would stop into 24/7 diners for a snack. But now, disco fries are available at all times of day, and in endless variations. Perhaps it began with Thai Diner, whose Thai disco fries slathered in massaman curry and peanuts are a perennial menu hit. Golden HOF in New York serves jjajang disco fries with black bean and pork gravy, and Chica & the Don have “Latin” disco fries with chorizo and salsa. But it’s not just in the northeast that disco fries have been showing up. Samosa Shop in Denver serves its masala fries “disco style,” doused with cheese, tikka masala sauce, and chutney. Little Rituals in Phoenix has disco fries topped with brisket, pho gravy, and sambal aioli. King BBQ in Charleston makes them with five spice and chicken gravy, while elsewhere in the city, Da Toscano Fugazzi does an Italian riff with garlic fries, vodka sauce, and mozzarella cheese. Courtesy of Chica & The Don Chica & the Don serves “Latin” disco fries with chorizo and salsa. At Viana’s La Otra in Aberdeen Township, New Jersey, the speakeasy bar next to his Iberian restaurant Lita, disco fries get inspiration from Portuguese carne porco al alentejana, a dish of pork and clams with potatoes. “I was like, ‘Oh actually, all these elements are really there for a disco fry version of this dish,’” he says, and Jersey diners would be familiar, given both the history of disco fries and the large Portuguese population in the state. But they also work where disco fries are unfamiliar. Initially, “there were definitely people at the beginning who were like, What are disco fries? What is that?,” says Michael Toscano, chef at Da Toscano Fugazzi, but soon enough, they were on “literally every table.” Loaded fries may be for dinner with the family, but disco fries are a party with the outcast, degenerate people you love enough to spend the strangest hours of the day with. Disco fry riffs work because of their obviousness. “It’s a baseline for a lot of different cuisines,” says Toscano. There’s Canadian poutine, but also what are patatas bravas but fried potatoes with both savory and creamy toppings? What of Chilean chorillana fries or Irish curry spice bag? To speak of universality is a bit of a cop out, but the potato has successfully colonized basically every cuisine on earth, and everyone loves a sauce. This is fat and carbs, the core of our caveman cravings, the kind of food that calms the part of our brain worried about surviving the winter. Disco fries of course live under the larger umbrella of loaded fries, which may still be a more common name for these heaps of international fusion. But the increased naming of disco fries is a hat tip to their origins. Disco fries evoke booths filled at 3 a.m. with sequins and smeared makeup, head ringing from booming speakers. Loaded fries may be for dinner with the family, but disco fries are a party with the outcast, degenerate people you love enough to spend the strangest hours of the day with. Disco fries nourish misfit joy. That’s a history worth celebrating.

Apr 24, 2025 - 18:36
 0
Disco Fever
A bowl of disco fries on a table, with a blue drink in the background
Baby Burn, Disco In-Fry-no | Courtesy of Little Rituals

Why disco fries are taking over the menu

“So, no blonde fries,” says chef David Viana of the platonic ideal of disco fries. “It can’t be mushy. The gravy has to slap. And some people say you can’t have too much cheese, but if it gets too heavy, it actually makes it stick together too much.” As a self-described “Jersey boy,” Viana takes his disco fries seriously.

If you grew up outside of the northeast, you may have no idea what he’s talking about. While loaded fries or cheese fries are common enough, disco fries — fries topped with brown gravy and shredded cheese — are specific enough to New Jersey that growing up, I barely saw them on diner menus across the river in New York. But when so many hot new restaurants appear to be riffs on the old school diner or luncheonette (recession indicator??), and when people just want food they can lol at, disco fries have been given a new life, serving as a canvas for the flavors of nearly every cuisine. Finally, they’re listening to us, and discoing the fries.

The Tick Tock diner in Clifton, New Jersey, takes credit for inventing disco fries, though given their similarity to poutine, it’s likely they weren’t the only diner to think of topping fries with cheese and gravy. They got their name, supposedly, in the ’70s, when hungry people coming back from the disco would stop into 24/7 diners for a snack.

But now, disco fries are available at all times of day, and in endless variations. Perhaps it began with Thai Diner, whose Thai disco fries slathered in massaman curry and peanuts are a perennial menu hit. Golden HOF in New York serves jjajang disco fries with black bean and pork gravy, and Chica & the Don have “Latin” disco fries with chorizo and salsa. But it’s not just in the northeast that disco fries have been showing up. Samosa Shop in Denver serves its masala fries “disco style,” doused with cheese, tikka masala sauce, and chutney. Little Rituals in Phoenix has disco fries topped with brisket, pho gravy, and sambal aioli. King BBQ in Charleston makes them with five spice and chicken gravy, while elsewhere in the city, Da Toscano Fugazzi does an Italian riff with garlic fries, vodka sauce, and mozzarella cheese.

And image of disco fries. Courtesy of Chica & The Don
Chica & the Don serves “Latin” disco fries with chorizo and salsa.

At Viana’s La Otra in Aberdeen Township, New Jersey, the speakeasy bar next to his Iberian restaurant Lita, disco fries get inspiration from Portuguese carne porco al alentejana, a dish of pork and clams with potatoes. “I was like, ‘Oh actually, all these elements are really there for a disco fry version of this dish,’” he says, and Jersey diners would be familiar, given both the history of disco fries and the large Portuguese population in the state.

But they also work where disco fries are unfamiliar. Initially, “there were definitely people at the beginning who were like, What are disco fries? What is that?,” says Michael Toscano, chef at Da Toscano Fugazzi, but soon enough, they were on “literally every table.”

Disco fry riffs work because of their obviousness. “It’s a baseline for a lot of different cuisines,” says Toscano. There’s Canadian poutine, but also what are patatas bravas but fried potatoes with both savory and creamy toppings? What of Chilean chorillana fries or Irish curry spice bag? To speak of universality is a bit of a cop out, but the potato has successfully colonized basically every cuisine on earth, and everyone loves a sauce. This is fat and carbs, the core of our caveman cravings, the kind of food that calms the part of our brain worried about surviving the winter.

Disco fries of course live under the larger umbrella of loaded fries, which may still be a more common name for these heaps of international fusion. But the increased naming of disco fries is a hat tip to their origins. Disco fries evoke booths filled at 3 a.m. with sequins and smeared makeup, head ringing from booming speakers. Loaded fries may be for dinner with the family, but disco fries are a party with the outcast, degenerate people you love enough to spend the strangest hours of the day with. Disco fries nourish misfit joy. That’s a history worth celebrating.