Because then life would be simple and we cannot have life being simple.
Yum! I bought some sweet potatoes yesterday. Some will be candied just because I need a sweet treat. The rest will be roasted and sprinkled with herbs from my garden. (Can’t do sodium anymore.)
Growing up we usually had potatoes 6 times a week…
mashed potato ,potatoes in their jackets baked,scolleped potatoes,roast potatoes with pumpkins around the roast of meat,
left over mashed potato used for potato cakes cooked on the stove top …with butter…
When in Ireland,one of the families I stayed with said the more flourier the potato the better.
Marshmallows. Now there’s the ticket.
Better them than us.
Oh great, another homo-supremicist (human supremacist). Just what the world needs.
There are sweet potatoes and yams. Many think they’re the same thing. What a shock it was to discover they aren’t.
Yes, it is a shock. I discovered the difference when I moved to the South. I still do not like either one. Do you like either of them?
That looks like it might be really close. Thank you!
All this talk about sweet potatoes and marshmallows reminds me of a dish I’ve seen which involves sweet potato chunks (or mashed) in a shallow casserole topped with marshmallows, baked until the marshmallows start browning. I never liked it – I prefer the sweet potato’s natural sweetness – but here you go:
Once I wanted a pumpkin pie but carelessly bought a sweet potato pie instead. Imagine my disappointment
That’s actually how I started to like sweet potato pie! I wanted an Entenmann’s pumpikin, but grabbed sweet potato instead. I got home and thought “what the heck, I’ll give it a try”.
Maybe it’s unfair, but the poor potato is just one letter short of a palindrome.
I prefer sweet potatoes to yams. I was stunned to see the sweet potatoes in the store yesterday. Usually, we don’t have them til Autumn which is why I decided to grow my own this year.
To a Sinister Potato
O vast earth-apple, waiting to be fried,
Of all life’s starers the most many-eyed,
What furtive purpose hatched you long ago
In Indiana or in Idaho?In Indiana and in Idaho
Snug underground, the great potatoes grow,
Puffed up with secret paranoias unguessed
By all the duped and starch-fed Middle West.Like coiled-up springs or like a will-to-power,
The fat and earthy lurkers bide their hour,
The silent watchers of our raucous show
In Indiana or in Idaho.”They think us dull, a food and not a flower.
Wait! We’ll outshine all roses in our hour.
Not wholesomeness by mania swells us so
In Indiana and in Idaho.”In each Kiwanis Club on every plate,
So bland and health exuding do we wait
That Indiana never, never knows
How much we envy stars and hate the rose.”Some doom will strike (as all potatoes know)
When-once too often mashed in Idaho-
From its cocoon the drabbest of earth’s powers
Rises and is a star.
-By Peter Viereck
That poem just made this thread worthwhile.
I knew it needed something.
Ah, yes. It brings back memories from basic training… The old Hot Potato Drill…