I don't know how it started, but we name our potato plants every year. There's something about saying "hey, Spuds is growing!" that is strangely rewarding. Almost as rewarding as frying up Spuds in a cast iron skillet in a blob of lard over a campfire, but I'm getting ahead of myself...
So yeah, we eat our friends that we carefully plant in the flower bed every year.
This year we planted 10 potato plants, some red variety that I forgot to write down when I bought them. I carefully cut them into their sections, leaving at least 3 eyes to each piece for good measure, and we dug 10 little holes. Carefully putting the chunks in eye side up and covering them over with about 3-4 inches of dirt, we blissfully planted:
Pearl (Krabs' giant daughter-- the largest of the potatoes)
Karen (Plankton's computer wife, if you're not up to speed on the show)
I'm a little picky when it comes to eating seafood, but I'd bet my bottom Krabby Patty that these sea kritters will taste pretty darn good.
(Click here last year's column on potato planting.)
Bright lights, bright mornings…? - I’m not going to lie. I get really crabby in the winter. My family quietly urges me to seek sunlight, drink joyous teas, meditate, sing, eat, dance, and...