Love is kind of a strong word.
Let’s just say that I’m affectionate for potatoes. Like the “Bubba-Gump” of potatoes: “boiled potatoes, baked potatoes, fried potatoes, potato salad, American fries, raw fries, even instant potatoes in a pinch.” French fries of course, of all kinds and styles are a much needed compliment to any burger or fish fry.
Then there are potato chips, the salty greasy kind, never baked.
Our collective love affair goes way back. Potatoes have always been a staple in the mid-western diet, sent over from the South American Andes region via European explorers. As the story goes, feudal communities had to disguise the tubers as they were once thought to be poisonous. Thus, mashed potatoes were born.
The Irish of course, came here because they ran out.
The fresh cut asparagus simply looks on forlorn, while the medium grilled rib-eye is just a flash in the pan. Regardless of variety the potato, remains the apple of my eye.
There’s nothing like a baked in the skin russet to make me salivate like Pavlov’s dogs. Scoop out the pulp and spread some butter inside with a little salt and pepper. What a treat. Why, you could sell those in restaurants…..
Unfortunately, the target of my affection no longer likes me. Calories that used to just metabolize away, don’t anymore. A little pat of butter with bacon, cheese or sour cream goes right to my belt. The leather screams.
I had another affair with tobacco many years ago and ended that one without a hitch but the potato refuses to see the writing on the wall. This could be a messy breakup.
My sources tell me that one medium tuber of the nightshade family contains; 110 calories, 26 grams of carbohydrates and almost zero fat. Vitamins, minerals, fiber and pantothenic acid (whatever that is) are found in abundance, in a potato.
Sailors of old used to carry them on expeditions around the world to ward off scurvy with their reliable source of vitamin C.
Me-I just need to ward off a few pounds.
Most dieticians will tell you that it’s not the potato itself that poses the problem but all the extras: the bacon, cheese, sour cream, gravy, gravy and gravy.
I have since joined a support group. It’s called the “Potato Lover’s Club.” It’s working great. They offer a new recipe every week. I just dined on “mashed with a hint of garlic and oven browned on a cedar plank,” potatoes.
Did you know that the potato is naturally gluten free? That opens the door to a whole new array of uses. Potato pizza, tacos. Potato lasagna!
I suppose I could fall for a carrot, celery, or even fruit. Mashed carrots and gravy? Celery skins? A navel orange stuffed with bacon bits and cheese?
I know. I’ll exercise. Go for a walk. Get a gym membership. No reason to end the relationship at all.
My wife doesn’t mind. We have an open kind of marriage that way. Why, she’ll even eat a salad right in front of me.