Have I revealed my potato addition in this blog? I think I've alluded to my love of baked potatos, but I'm now quite sure it's a serious addiction. Almost every night, and I mean almost EVERY night, I microwave a potato for four minutes, sometimes four and a half. Then I dress it with butter, blue cheese dressing, salt, and pepper. I usually accompany it with a nice red, a Hess cabernet or a Bella zinfandel.
I have all the telltale signs of addiction. During the last mile of my drive home, no matter what the time, I speed down Normandale, anxious to get in the house and scrub the spud. While it's in the microwave, I can't resist a couple of half-teaspoons of dressing. I even dig around in the jar to get a chunk of blue cheese. I barely put the pepper shaker down and with my other hand I dig in.
When I'm finished with the simple, totally comforting potato, I actually lick my plate. Do you think I need treatment?
Did I mention I made it through day 4? Ahhh. Thank you Mr. Potato Head.
Another sign: do you obsess over your supply? Do you have potatoes hidden around the house in case you 'run out'? Are you on a first name basis with your green grocer?
ReplyDeleteEvery nuance is true.
ReplyDeleteEgg noodles? They usually end up so sippery and too tender to the tooth.
Oh no. No hidden potatos, they go bad on you in the dark. And they kind of creep you out sitting silently under your bed or at the back of the linen closet. They have eyes in the backs of their heads you know?
There's no tempting me to kick the potato habit. Nothing can compare with the soft, sweet fleshy inside or the earthy bite of the spade-marked exterior of the potato. Almost perfection.