She was listening to a Uruguayan writer and musician while making her lunch, "Tigrillo de Plátano", a succulent Ecuadorian meal. They had given her the recipe and she made it to the letter; They recommended adding pork rinds and that he did, it was a sumptuous lunch. She was very full, she leaned back in a hammock to digest and couldn't help falling asleep.

"Potato chips, potato chips" said the song, in his dream that chorus was repeated many times. She saw the French fries dancing everywhere, repeating the lyrics: "French fry, fried potato", she saw them in all sizes.

Finally, she woke up drenched in sweat, she firmly promised herself not to eat that dish any more, at least not in the same way, next time she would only eat half because it really was good, "fried potato, fried potato."