Sunday, September 20, 2009

Say It Again

I’m taking a cue from one of my favorite blogbuds Chrissy over at I Shoulda Been a Stripper. She had the brilliant idea of reposting some of her earlier posts on Sundays…and since I do believe they’re totally worth a second look, I’m following suit. Hope you enjoy!

Mashed Potato Pants (originally published 10.26.08)

My brother was supposedly relocating for work. Temporarily. No-one was sure of exactly when...or where…but the announcement made its way down the pipeline and the troops were mobilized.

As is the case in any Italian family, food therefore must be consumed in an orderly (or disorderly…it really makes no difference) fashion to commemorate the possible relocation of one said brother…and to cover the possibility of a vacant seat at the Thanksgiving table, which is just downright sad.

“Come to my house Sunday at 1:00,” came the announcement from my sister, Laura.

“Okay,” I say…never one to turn down an afternoon of food, drink and merriment.

“What are you bringing?” she then asks.

“Uh,” I respond.

“What about bread?” she asks…stating the obvious.

“Oh, sure…and how about garlic mashed potatoes?” I add, wincing the second the words leave my mouth.

For I do not know how to make garlic mashed potatoes.

But, how hard can it be?

I awoke extra early to combine the ingredients necessary to accommodate the bread maker…as it required a whopping 3 hours and 40 minutes to create “Rustic Italian bread”.“Geez. Why so long?” I say to the dog, who is the only one listening...and even he seems bored. (How spoiled am I? This machine mixes, kneads, times and allows it to rise and then bakes the bread all on its own and I’ve still got da nerve to whine….yes, I do.)

And so, with a heavy sigh I push “start” and walk out of the room.

I am so impressed with my planned gastronomic contribution that I text Jack to share:

K: “JACK! I m goig 2 sisters 4 foud cuking breed & garl c mashd pots!”

A few seconds later, I hear the chime of his reply:

J: “What?”

K: “makg garlc mas shd potaatoos & braded.”

Ding!

J: “What a surprise. You’re making bread.”

K: “NOTFUNY. Ho doou makit !Hury.”

At this, my cell starts to ring.

Jack: “You are the WORST texter EVER.”

Me: “Thank you. How do I make garlic mashed potatoes?”

J: “You’re kidding, right?”

K: “Do I sound like I’m kidding? I have no time for this. I’ve been baking the potatoes in foil at three hundred and seventy-five degrees for almost an hour now and I think they’re almost done and I’ve got the bread baking and I’m extremely stressed here and just tell me what to do.”

J: “How many?”

K: “How many what?”

J: “How many potatoes did you make? And why did you bake them?”

K: “What?! You’re starting to freak me out. What difference does it make how many there are? How many come in a bag? That’s how many I made. And what do you mean ‘why did I bake them’? I don’t know any other way to make them! Are you gonna help me or not?!”

J: “Kathryn, this is not a nuclear crisis. Just add some cream and butter and you’re done.”

K: “What? Cream?! Does it have to be cream? Can’t I use milk?”

J: “Yeah…sure…milk…whatever. Just eyeball it. You can do this.”

I was not as confident in my capabilities, but decided to plow ahead anyway, as Jack seemed done with me. So, with Metro parked precariously underfoot (no doubt in hopes of catching any stray potato pieces) I began unwrapping boiling hot potatoes from foil. With masterfully-surgical-precision, I then initiated the process of removing the skins from many (nay, possibly hundreds) of potatoes. I then did some serious smushing, (I know “Word” says this is not a word…but it is one if I say it’s one)…and added milk and nuked butter…all the while, trying not to turn it into a replay of my last attempt where I wound up with lukewarm mashed potato soup.

It wasn’t until I proclaimed us incredibly late but ready to head out the door that I realized that I’d completely forgotten about adding the garlic. In my haste to smush, mix, dice and expertly fold said garlic into said potatoes, I may have errantly lost my grip on the extra-large-jumbo-sized spoon…

…and THAT, your honor, is how I became Miss Mashed Potato Pants.

Chrissy said...

How funny!

Don't feel bad, Miss Mashed Potato Pants. When I go places, I "make" my famous pasta salad that coincidentally tastes just like the pasta salad at the local grocer. He must have stolen my recipe!

Kathryn said...

Chrissy: You're right. That DOES make me feel better. But...do you subsequently WEAR any of said pasta salad to the event? That's how you gain credibility, I'm sure...

Ron said...

Bwhahahahahahahahaha!!!!

Oh dear god...I'm reading this post thinking, "No wonder I love Kathryn."

A) she's Italian like me.

As is the case in any Italian family, food therefore must be consumed in an orderly (or disorderly…it really makes no difference) fashion!

Yes...I totally know what you mean.

B)I'd have the same reaction.

I’ve got the bread baking and I’m extremely stressed here and just tell me what to do.

I hear ya!

Great post, Miss Mashed Potato Pants!

P.S. the little film clip looks so cute on your sidebar. X

JD at I Do Things said...

"How many come in a bag? That’s how many I made."

HAHAHAHAHA!

That's pretty much how I cook, too.

At least you tried something new. I bet they were delicious. And "smushed" is definitely a word, but only when referring to the process of mashing potatoes.

(Why DID you bake them?)

Kathryn said...

Ron: Yet ANOTHER thing we have in common (Italian). Why does this not surprise me? So, how come I didn't get the automatically-generated-genetic-Italian cooking gene? Does it skip a generation?? I ♥ you too!
JD: Actually, my nieces said they were the best they ever had....and I've yet to replicate that batch. I know, I know...I shud've boiled 'em. BUT. I've since been told that baking 'em might have given them that unique flavor that has so captivated my many admirers...
Hey. Ya never know.

Jen said...

Your texting killed me! As for the spuds next time try to boil the potatoes with skins on and then smush them. Roast a whole bulb of garlic in the oven and then smush the part that comes out like toothpaste, butter, salt and milk or cream and smush away. Good to go. I can't help with the bread I mess it up in the break maker, don't know why some things just don't work for me. Must be the altitude here in Minnesota.

Kathryn said...

Jen: Yeah, my texting is pretty crappy....everybody says so. I'll def give that potato recipe a try! You have altitude in Minnesota? Or is it attitude??
Thanks for commenting!

Leah Rubin said...

Hilarious! And it's so good for me to know that there's at least one person in the world who texts worse than I do. What's that? You've improved since then? Great. I'm officially the worst...

Kathryn said...

Leah: Don't worry....you and I are still neck-in-neck for the award for worst texter. The only time I really attempt at a perfect text is if I'm tweeting....'cause I don't wanna look ya know, stupid. I may be the only gal on the planet over the age of 20 who doesn't have a bberry.

Millions Of Atoms Man said...

Congrats on Blogs of Note! And you really are a pretty horrible texter... How do you do with Tweeting? How about WiFi? How about FiFiFoFum and other abbreviations?

Kathryn said...

Millions of Atoms Man: Okay. You lost me after tweeting, which I'm great at...but only 'cause I work off TweetDeck (my computer). Having to press my cell button 4 whole times to make an "s" exhausts me. Thanks for commenting!

Kelly Muys Wood said...

Too funny. I may have been known to screw up mashed potatos once in the past. Okay, if you count the beef boullion incident twice. But who's counting? :)

Kelly
http://tearinguphouses.blogspot.com

Kathryn said...

Kelly: Your secret is safe with me. Oh, and about 1000 others, according to my sitemeter, which is threatening to combust from all this wonderful traffic!
Wait. Is the beef buillion related to the mashed or separate? (You'd think I'd know this, but I do not....'cause I'm THAT BAD of a cook.) Thanks for commenting-I'll be sure to stop by!

Kathryn said...

Anonymous: I shall translate this to read: "God, you are FABULOUS! Blogger should name you Blog of Note every day for the rest of the year! What did we do WITHOUT YOU?"
Gee (blushing)...you're such a dear...

Just How Stupid Are People said...

hello
got a minute check out my BLOG

Stupid People and Things

Kathryn said...

Just How Stupid Are People: I just did!

Susan F said...

Too funny!

Kathryn said...

Susan F: Thanks, sweetie!

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