Potatoes

Those little fingerlings are good to eat about now, with the cold weather here, and the desire for more carbs. It's December and the ground isn't frozen yet, so this means go out and dig the rest of the spuds. I love how crispy root vegetables are in the fall. We always ate sliced potatoes with a bit of salt. Dad would do the peeling for dinner and that's when we got the treat. We thought it was a treat, anyway. I'm thinking that any carrots and potatoes that you eat this time of year have more moisture in them, that's what makes them so crunchy and delish.

When I lived in North Carolina for a couple of months in the early 70s, the potatoes the neighbors grew where as big as bakers you buy at the grocers. I grew disappointing potatoes this year. They are small and gnarly, but it's so rewarding digging them anyway. I've heard from many folks that the gardens did the worst ever this year, so no worries, right? There's always next year.

And now I must tell you about the fabulous sunrises and sunsets we've been having lately. And great walking days. Huh, did someone push the scramble button on the weather, or something. Yes, 50 degree days and sun. Lovely weather to sit on a hunk of sandstone by the bay. If we can get our vitamin D in the winter, this is good. I take it daily, but getting out in the rays is even better.

So back to potatoes, they come in many varieties. I like the yellow fin. Very sweet and good baked or mashed. Also the regular russet is good. And red potatoes are nice in the spring. You can plant peas early, early and cook them with potatoes. I even think you can plant peas in the fall for a spring crop. They could rot, though. Experiment.

And one of my favorite cookbooks Yummy Potatoes: 65 Downright Delicious Recipes has a great potato, onion, and tomato dish. Try it.

Ciao! Flower

Potatoes

I love to dig potatoes in the fall, turning over the soil on a sunny day, gleaning from the rich darkness the white or red jewels. Oh, so poetic. But it is like finding treasure, those yellow fin and reds and you know of course how to find the new potatoes to cook with your peas in the spring? You find the flowering plants and reach carefully beneath, sort of like reaching beneath a hen for a newly laid egg. I've done that, the egg is warm, the hen cackles a bit--and the potato plant has all these tiny potatoes growing along the roots, they can be snapped off and the plant will continue to grow. New potatoes are the size of a plum and when cooked with new peas, ah, what a treat. I used to make a sauce of cornstarch and water and salt and blend it in with the cooking water--always I use a minimal amount as to not waste vitamins--and when creamy, salt and pepper to taste. I could eat that now, new potatoes and peas for breakfast, add an egg, viola, I'm in Heaven.

Soon,

Flower

Quilts & Potatoes

I always thought the Palouse looked like a giant quilt, all those plowed fields, fallow dirt next to squares of spring wheat. A patchwork of greens and browns and the little strips of unfarmable land, sagebrush covered—a lovely sage green. The community garden is a patchwork, too. Not as lovely from a distance, in fact somewhat homely with the netting and posts and garden art, a garage sale of plants. But up close, it is beautiful. The colors and scents delicious. Once an art teacher said to me, paint dead leaves. I was painting all these swirling, twisting leaves at the time. So I tried it, sketching the curled and dried leaves of the tomato plants, the twists of corn silk on the aging ears of corn, the sunflowers, with their huge leaves browning and curling. The airbrush painting ended up printed in a herb magazine. To me it looks like tobacco hanging to dry in a North Carolina barn.

I lived in North Carolina for a couple of months. Ended up in Boone where I worked as a key-punch operator in a college computer office. All that big equipment that took up several rooms we now have stored in little boxes, laptops, etc. Amazing. Anyway, the neighbors had a garden in the yard between our rental house and their home. One day the used the pitchfork and pulled out spuds the size of grapefruit. It was amazing to see. I remember those potatoes like it was yesterday. Mashing them, making the little mound on the plate with the spoon indentation, a lake for gravy. All those delicious potatoes.

If you grow potatoes, it will be time to dig them and let them air dry. Clean off the dirt with a brush or rag and store them in a bag in the cupboard or basement. They need to be dry and dark. Light makes them sprout and also makes them turn green. I've grown many different varieties of potatoes—yellow fin, red potatoes, and the regular Idaho Spud. My mother once said she picked potatoes when she was a kid. I said you don't pick potatoes, you dig them. She looked at me very indignantly, she had a way of doing that, we picked them she said—off the ground, they'd been turned up by the tractor. Oh, I see. I imagine the field and my mother and her sister and brothers, picking potatoes in the hot fall sun.

I'm thinking of potato salad, potato pancakes, baked potatoes, French fries, potato puffels, potato soufflé. hash browns. Here's a book of spud recipes that looks interesting- More Than Mashed

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