Potatoes without a-peel?
Mashed Potatoes
© Frank Ford, 2001; Photos by FF
I have no direct memory of my uncle Preston, who died in Europe during
the last days of World War II. But every Thanksgiving my grandmother would remind
me what a world-class potato masher he was, as she set me on that task, probably
to keep me from running around the house with my brother. Now, I'll never expected to become a real culinary artist like my grandmother, although she did set me that goal, "You can learn to make mashed potatoes as good as your Uncle Preston's." She always said the key to his success was that he used a fork to finish them off, and never an electric mixer, because that would make them gummy. Not too long ago, I read a little piece in the food section of the daily paper giving corroborating evidence, saying that an electric mixer breaks down the cellulose structure and releases gluten, or something like that. Speaking of gluten, I have a neighbor whose mashed potatoes could be used to adhere classical guitar bridges. But enough of all that, let's get cooking. |
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And, here's the last minute secret ingredient that make's everything right. If the potatoes have a slightly bitter taste, I'll make an adjustment with a tiny bit of sugar. It's amazing what that can do! I don't use enough to be noticeable, of course. |
Ah, this picture is making me hungry right now. The mashed potatoes land on the plate looking like a fluffy cloud, not like a lump of plaster. Sure, it takes a bit of care, but making the best mashed potatoes takes no more time than the worst. Really good mashed potatoes like these will stand a day or two in the refrigerator, and come out quite passable as leftovers. |
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Lately, I've met a number of folks who don't know what a potato ricer is. Suffice
it to say, that if you don't have one, you should get one. It's fun to play with,
and it turns a boiled russet into something that looks a lot like steamed rice. Using a potato ricer assures me of a completely lump-free product, so I don't have to work up a sweat as Uncle Preston did. (He was a water polo star in high school, so I suspect he enjoyed that sort of thing.) |
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