Dear Potatoes
An homage to your starchy goodness
Bataka. Papa. Aloo. Tater.
It doesn’t matter what each language calls you. You are universally loved. Your carbohydrate and micronutrient-rich composition nourishes the world — from the arid climates of Sub-Saharan Africa to the frigid locales of North America. People enjoy you in industrialized nations and developing countries alike. No matter how different we humans claim to be as a species, you are a point of proof that we’re one and the same.
As I look back on my life, you’ve been a constant. I smothered you in ketchup when you were served as hash browns from my local diner. I ate you with roti when my grandmother made shak out of you. I mixed you in with rice when you came in a steaming bowl of Thai curry. The memories I associate you with are priceless.
Now, imagine my delight when I discovered how many of you there are. Purple. Yukon. Sweet. Fingerling. And, of course, the classic Russet. I can’t think of a grocery list that hasn’t included you in some shape or form. Right there at the top, where you rightfully belong.
Your versatility is what I love about you the most. There’s your mashed form — a Thanksgiving staple. There’s your fried form — a not-so-guilty pleasure of millions globally. But there’s also your baked form — delicious with a dollop of…
