Whatever you do, don’t try to order fries at this pub in Sydney’s eastern suburbs. And if you dare, expect to be chased by a rabid floor manger who will patronisingly tell you that it’s a ‘bit of a bogan thing to do’ to match fries with your Champagne. (It’s just that somebody forgot to tell the French that.)

My colleagues and I were enjoying a Christmas lunch on a sunny day downstairs at a busy beachside pub. We decided to finish with a drink on the rooftop and enjoy the weather. Our big mistake? We felt like fries. (I know, so 1989.) We perused the perfectly pleasant but plain bar menu – pita bread just didn’t cut it. We asked for the fries we had eaten downstairs only an hour earlier, and were told we would have to order them downstairs.

So we did, and brought them up, where we were chased and apprehended at our table. Only the handcuffs were missing. We were promptly ordered to eat our fries downstairs (commonly known as ‘the perp walk’). “If we let you eat fries, now everyone is going to want to order fries,” we were scolded. And? Isn’t that a good thing? We were a little baffled that fries were acceptable downstairs but not upstairs when it seems to be one big venue.

“The beautiful people of the eastern suburbs don’t want that,” sniffed the staff member. Of course, a glamorous eastern suburbs resident would never eat a fry from a communal Ikea bowl – Middle Eastern share plates from the fair trade range at Koskela are de rigueur – and fries aren’t, well, paleo. (They are, however, gluten and dairy-free.) Maybe the mere glimpse of a carbohydrate could induce cardiac arrest? Or cravings? Perhaps concerned local citizens had signed a petition against the French fry in fear that word could get out (read, their trainers found out)? The only problem was we were in a suburb home to famed pub meals, McDonalds, backpackers and… the Irish.

A quick look around told me the crowd wouldn’t mind us eating fries one bit. I saw more pairs or thongs and tank tops around me than I did in Surfers Paradise. The dress code, as far as I could see, was more ‘casual Friday bargain bikini’ than ‘beautiful people’.

Rockpool Bar & Grill does fries. Dinner by Heston in Melbourne does fries. Guillaume too. The French practically invented them. Some suggestions to elevate the humble fry would be thin cut with parmesan or truffle shavings, or thrice cooked. Or, if you want to stick to the current Middle Eastern theme, the delicious. food team suggests swapping out the aioli for sumac labne or crumble over some Persian feta. Even a spot of garlic yoghurt might be nice.

Fries aren’t bogan. They’re delicious. Just ask the seagulls.