When I got my Nima in the mail, my first thought was of French fries. Specifically, Shake Shack's French fries. Not because they're the best (everyone is entitled to their own opinion on where to get the best fries, even though mine is the correct one: Pommes Frites on Macdougal Street), but because I've watched my friends eat them countless times. The thing about watching someone eat fries right in front of you is that you can smell them. They're starchy and steaming and they permeate the air with a delicious oily scent that cannot be shaken from your nostrils. But most places that serve fries also serve battered foods, like onion rings, and cook both in the same oil. Previously, I had no way of knowing how much cross contamination might occur in that frying process. I hated the not knowing. I can't under any circumstances eat a normal piece of bread, so that's not even worth thinking about. But eating French fries fresh from the boiling hot basket was a possibility so tantalizing it made me salivate at the very thought.