Ah, that’s a great scene, Karen. I should have remembered that one. Sam has standards for his potatoes that little wild vermin like Gollum simply cannot understand. Thanks for posting it!
Lots to love here, starting w the exceptionally validating connection between love of potatoes and strength of character. Makes me feel GOOD. I have a lifelong love relationship w the P. Mom was particularly skilled w em, and though I knew they were vastly preferable to instant mash, I loved the mash too, also drew crop lines w my fork, but worked through the “field” as if I were a ruthless bulldozer.
My first job was picking tobacco at age 12, often next to potato farms and when nobody was looking I would steal a few, polishing them on my horrendously filthy pants and eating raw. Eventually I decided to plant a few and that became a long lasting tradition. I don’t need em fancied up, though I have egads of good tricks to elicit their playful side. In fact, breakfast was a killer hash using the last bit of Dt Patty’s corned beef and a handful of yellows that a gardener gave me when I met em on my walking commute. Mostly I have em around in the classroom, often cooking a bunch and handing around randomly in classes and the hallways, especially appreciated on cold days when the heaters aren’t working. I have converted thousands who previously thought they didn’t like potatoes, but now know to love the comfort aspect, the lack of packaging involved, the Whole Foods nature of a nutritional staple that doesn’t have to be purchased at Whole Wallet.
Nice job on the drawings!
Just got reminded of a blissful solution to nearly freezing to death one December in Amsterdam (no money for lodging and not much for food), spending hours gazing at Van Gogh’s The Potato Eaters, making a beautiful connection that led to a most memorable and lovely first and only one-night stand.
I can relate to the ocd way of eating mashed potatoes, the startling feeling of accidental foil mastication, and the soul warming sustenance of potatoes served up all ways through lean times.
You’ll know it’s me joining you in that home when a dollop of mashed potatoes smacks you center forehead.
https://youtube.com/shorts/nYHQK1Ltnh4?si=UhGwUgnP9rmE7qnI
Ah, that’s a great scene, Karen. I should have remembered that one. Sam has standards for his potatoes that little wild vermin like Gollum simply cannot understand. Thanks for posting it!
Lots to love here, starting w the exceptionally validating connection between love of potatoes and strength of character. Makes me feel GOOD. I have a lifelong love relationship w the P. Mom was particularly skilled w em, and though I knew they were vastly preferable to instant mash, I loved the mash too, also drew crop lines w my fork, but worked through the “field” as if I were a ruthless bulldozer.
My first job was picking tobacco at age 12, often next to potato farms and when nobody was looking I would steal a few, polishing them on my horrendously filthy pants and eating raw. Eventually I decided to plant a few and that became a long lasting tradition. I don’t need em fancied up, though I have egads of good tricks to elicit their playful side. In fact, breakfast was a killer hash using the last bit of Dt Patty’s corned beef and a handful of yellows that a gardener gave me when I met em on my walking commute. Mostly I have em around in the classroom, often cooking a bunch and handing around randomly in classes and the hallways, especially appreciated on cold days when the heaters aren’t working. I have converted thousands who previously thought they didn’t like potatoes, but now know to love the comfort aspect, the lack of packaging involved, the Whole Foods nature of a nutritional staple that doesn’t have to be purchased at Whole Wallet.
Nice job on the drawings!
Just got reminded of a blissful solution to nearly freezing to death one December in Amsterdam (no money for lodging and not much for food), spending hours gazing at Van Gogh’s The Potato Eaters, making a beautiful connection that led to a most memorable and lovely first and only one-night stand.
I can relate to the ocd way of eating mashed potatoes, the startling feeling of accidental foil mastication, and the soul warming sustenance of potatoes served up all ways through lean times.
You’ll know it’s me joining you in that home when a dollop of mashed potatoes smacks you center forehead.
Oh yeah my aim is true. 😇