I bought blue potatoes at the farmers market last week. The potato seller has a bushy dark beard, a big smile and a rainbow colored hand knit hat. He always recognizes me and we chat about the 17 different kinds of potatoes he grows and what each is best for. When I steamed a variety that he had said was best for frying he said, well duh. I never did take direction well, as you know.
The blue potatoes perhaps shouldn't have been mashed but I couldn't resist. They looked weird but tasted great.
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