Spuds with new buds: Why Koreans are meeting strangers for french fries

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Spuds with new buds: Why Koreans are meeting strangers for french fries

Published: 24 Feb. 2026, 07:00

CHO JUNG-WOO
[email protected]

Audio report: written by reporters, read by AI

A pile of french fries and curly fries this reporter shared and ate during a spontaneous gathering at a McDonald’s branch in Gangnam District, southern Seoul, on Feb. 11 [CHO JUNG-WOO]

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How many french fries can you eat in one sitting?

I was asked this question by a man about 10 minutes after meeting him. It wasn't something I had ever considered.

The conversation took place at a french fry gathering, one of a growing number of casual meetups spreading across Korea. Arranged individually through Karrot, a neighborhood-based secondhand marketplace app, they invite strangers to fast-food chains for a shared plate of fries and a brief conversation. Curious about why strangers were meeting for nothing more than fried potatoes, I decided to go to one myself.

On a recent Wednesday, just before 4 p.m., I arrived at a McDonald’s branch in Daechi-dong, a neighborhood dense with cram schools in Gangnam District, southern Seoul.

Unsure whether I was early, I ordered an iced tea and waited for a group of people I had never met, at a fast-food restaurant I rarely visited anymore.

I couldn’t remember the last time I had physically sat inside a fast-food chain. Probably during university, when I would go eat chicken wings after long study sessions at the library.

I was awkwardly sipping my iced tea near the entrance when my phone buzzed.

“I just arrived. Has anyone arrived yet?” someone wrote in a group chat on Karrot.

“I’m here. Where are you?” I typed back, scanning the area. A young woman in casual clothes was also looking around. I approached her and asked quietly, “Are you here for french fries?”

“Yes,” she said, smiling, as if I had just given her the right password.

We found a large table and waited. The woman, a part-time worker in her 20s, said it was her first time attending one of these gatherings. She looked genuinely excited.

“I skipped lunch for this,” she said.

How it works

Empty french fry sleeves stacked during a spontaneous gathering at a McDonald’s branch in Gangnam District, southern Seoul, on Feb. 11 [CHO JUNG-WOO]

Signing up was simple. With a Karrot account set for my neighborhood, I searched “french fries” in the community tab. Dozens of group chats appeared, many named after locations: “Jongno french fry gathering,” “Gangnam french fries.”

I joined two of the largest chats, each with more than 1,000 participants. One was considered the original group that started the trend, and the other focused specifically on McDonald’s fries.

Inside the chats, people debated texture. A poll asked whether people preferred soggy fries or freshly fried, crisp ones. Others posted photos and short reviews of past gatherings.

Anyone can host a meeting. You set a time and place, write a casual description and wait. McDonald’s, Lotteria and Five Guys are popular venues. Photos of fries poured into a single tray seemed to be a ritual in reviews of each gathering. People usually split the bill.

I scrolled through the scheduled meetups and joined one that fit my calendar. Without filling out anything else, I was added to a separate group chat for that specific gathering.

A screenshot of previous french fry gathering posted on Karrot [SCREEN CAPTURE]

At the table

There were no formal announcements. People asked basic questions: exactly where to gather and how long the meeting would last. The answer to the latter came quickly.

“Until we finish eating french fries,” someone replied.

Fourteen people joined the chat. In reality, far fewer showed up.

After the woman and I sat down, a man in his 40s walked in. Without hesitation, he asked if we were there for french fries and took a seat when we said yes. It was his third time attending one of these gatherings.

After about 10 minutes, he suggested we order. He asked how much we could eat and went to the kiosk. Minutes later, two large fries and two orders of curly fries were set down in front of us. As tradition dictated, we poured them all into one tray.

The curly fries were new to me.

“I don’t think I’ve tried these before,” I said.

“They’re seasonal,” he replied. “They taste kind of like Popeyes,” the woman added, already reaching for another.

Despite my worries about the low turnout and the age gap, the conversation flowed easily. We talked about movies, hobbies and trips we had enjoyed. The topics jumped around. I kept eating. At one point, the section of the tray in front of the woman and me was empty, while the man’s remained mostly untouched.

Another attendee soon joined us, carrying a large backpack. She was a high school senior, fresh out of cram school.

“What are your Karrot nicknames?” she asked as she sat down. “You’re all adults, right?” she added, explaining that she thought she might be the oldest one there.

Most groups on Karrot don’t come with age rules. The only real limit is how many people fit in a chat, set by the host. This is why some hosts make their preferences clear upfront, such as women in their 20s only or students welcome, but the french fry group I joined came with no labels.

A screencapture shows a pile of french fries shared by participants at a gathering held this month. [SCREEN CAPTURE]

It was her first time, too.

The conversation shifted to the relentless routine of high school seniors in Daechi-dong.

“I have to go to another academy after this,” she said. She mentioned she had just over 280 days left until the College Scholastic Ability Test.

Listening to her, the woman beside me and I found ourselves reminiscing about our own high school days.

We stayed for nearly two hours. As dinner time approached, the restaurant filled up and we decided it was time to leave.

A temporary bond

“I think I might do this again,” the student said as we left.

The experience had been unexpectedly pleasant. We promised to meet again at another gathering and went our separate ways.

I walked toward the subway with the part-time worker. I didn’t know her name or her exact age, but the conversation felt easy. When we said goodbye on the platform, she waved instead of bowing, which somehow felt more personal.

I felt drained, having spent what felt like all my extrovert energy. Still, it was a memorable experience, even for someone whose job already involves meeting strangers.

Eating nothing but greasy french fries was new to me, too, and I was surprised to find myself reaching for them nonstop. The taste lingered longer than expected — probably because I had eaten far more than I should have. In the end, I skipped dinner that night and ended up taking digestive medicine the next day. For first-timers, pacing yourself might be wise.

A screenshot shows a Karrot review from a french fry gathering participant saying everyone was nice and they had a lot of fun. [SCREEN CAPTURE]

The appeal of these gatherings, experts say, lies in their casualness.

“As society becomes more individualistic, these gatherings may serve as a way to overcome loneliness,” said Lee Eun-hee, a professor emeritus of consumer science at Inha University.

“Relationships with people we know, like family, friends and colleagues, can be stressful. That's why people are often drawn to lighter encounters centered on something they enjoy — like french fries.”

I’m not a devoted french fry fan, but I found myself nodding. In a society where forming new relationships can feel daunting, eating fries with strangers turned out to be an unexpectedly gentle way in.

After waving goodbye, I got on Line No. 9, squeezed into a crowded subway car during rush hour and opened Karrot again. I uploaded a photo of the fries and typed slowly — I really had a nice time. Hope everyone gets home safely.

Minutes later, the three others from the gathering tapped the like button.

BY CHO JUNG-WOO [[email protected]]