we're all making our own sense of things
…it is not impossible to f*ck up mashed potato.
That’s not news to me, honey.
Nor to me. I can bugger up just about anything you care to name.
Lol. ’nuff said. You’re not alone.
no, not impossible. With me, highly likely.
It is possible to fuck up absolutely anything at all in the kitchen, I’ve found.
Lumps, that’s why I never make mashed potatoes. If people want them, well, they have a fork.
Mmmmmmmmmmmm – mashed potato.
Only Dad does that correctly around here . . .
Jill Dupleix’s smashed potatoes are a big hit around here.
You boil small potatoes until they’re reasonably soft, drain, pack together in a shallow baking dish and then press down on them with the potato masher, not to mash them completely but just so they kinda burst and sit even closer together.
You then drizzle a nice olive oil over the top and sprinkle some rock salt and rosemary, the incinerate it in the oven at 200 degrees or more (we’re talking Celsius here, US people) until the top goes a bit brown.
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