“Fat potatoes, round potatoes,
oddly shaped and sound potatoes
Peppered and buttered by the pound potatoes
A bowl of comfort found potatoes.”
This was probably my first rhyme about mashed potatoes, I have loved mashed potatoes always! Probably because it was my mom’s way of telling me I was her favourite kid! You see, I belong to a punjabi family and it is a ritual to eat Aloo paranthas (spicy potato pancakes) for brunch every sunday in my pompous punjabi household.
Amidst the hustle bustle of the kitchen I’d walk in grumpy from sleep and hungry as a dog and my lovely mother would smother me with a generous helping of mashed potatoes seasoned with pepper and salt and topped with butter. She would keep some extra for me while she made the stuffing for the paranthas and no one was allowed to have that one bowl of mashed potatoes.
As I grew up mashed potatoes became a kind of symbol for home, whenever I miss my mother I boil some potatoes and try and make the same bowl she used to make for me, I never come close to it.
Perhaps love is actually an ingredient that can make food mysteriously sumptuous. Believe me I have had a lot of food! from fancy cuisines to horribly quirky but surprisingly yummy experiments.
But nothing matches up to Mashed potatoes!
Now as a weekend chef I can tell you one thing, You either love the food you’re making or the people you’re making it for, only then can you make magic even with mashed potatoes.
*sigh* I love you ma