Rye fries

A crunchy, garlicky, waste-reducing snack from Karaway Bakery

Growing up, the sight of those dark, deep fried, garlicky crisp-bready things in bowls on our parents’ coffee tables meant only one thing: guests were coming. Dinner guests, for whom the usual snacking fare of slightly stale ready salted crisps could never, and would never, do. It meant the table cloth was coming out. It meant nice wine in nicer bottles than the standard plonk, served in non-chipped glasses. We knew something special was happening, even as we sipped sourly on orange juice and got sent inevitably to our rooms.

For years this memory has lain dormant, overlaid by today’s fancy canapes and posh crisps fashioned from vegetables and quinoa, until here, now, at Karaway Bakery. The stall’s new rye chips might look a little different—they’re in chip form, rather than rough circles, and they’re dusted with parmesan, a welcome addition—but in flavour and fun they are more than a little reminiscent.

Crunchy and garlicy
In fact, they’re way better. By using unsold rye bread that has gone stale, Karaway Bakery is reducing the amount of waste it generates, and encouraging customers to do likewise. “We hope to show our customers that they can easily fry bread that has gone stale and reduce their food waste,” explains Doma, who is working on the stall. “They are a traditional snack in Lithuania. They are crunchy and garlicky, lightly fried in sunflower oil, and we have them, often on picnics, with beers or sparkling wine.”

They pack a powerful allium punch. There’ll be no kissing after these bad boys, unless your intended also gets stuck in—but they are worth every bit of that lingering aroma. They’re the perfect foil to sharp, dry wine or bitter beer. They are a blessing for bubbles, the contrast between crunch and gentle fizzing creating a mazurka for the mouth and making every bite a celebration—something your parents could only have aspired to when serving up those pale, mass-produced imitations back when you were small.