While waking up the children today, I asked Parker what I should make for dinner. The clever 3-year-old said, “Mashed pothathoes”. “Hmmm, what else?” I asked. “Milk.”
Well, Parker, we didn’t drink milk, but we did make mashed potatoes. This may not be a big deal to any of the rest of you, but I almost never, ever make them. To have potatoes you have to have gravy, and that requires a whole lotta steps. Tonight, though, we feasted like royalty! A tiny roast (hurried along in the process using the Spike Method), green beans, GRAVY and mashed potatoes. Yuh-um.
We’ve got a ricer, which is fun because you don’t have to peel the potatoes. Just chop, boil, smash, and the skins stay behind.
Thanks, Parker. This spud’s for you. (You saw that comin’, huh?)