The Potato Masher

potato masherTomorrow is our “Giving Thanks Soup and Salad Luncheon” at school (past educating children, there are few things teachers like to do more than eat). I briefly considered making something other than my signature potato bacon soup, and then I saw a colleague at Fareway who threatened to punch me if I did anything of the sort. This all brings me to my strongly held beliefs about mashed potatoes….

I stole the pictured red-handled potato masher from my mother years ago. I cannot fathom the number of pounds of potatoes it has mashed since it’s inception (assumedly sometime in the 1970s). I’ve seen the modernized Pampered Chef version in the catalog and avoided it like the plague because it appeared flimsy and unworthy. Two weeks ago, I was drinking lemonade (haha) at the Beer, Food, and Wine Expo when I stumbled upon a Pampered Chef vendor. I was feeling quite magnanimous with my money, so ten minutes later, I walked away from the booth with four new utensils and a burning credit card.

Astoundingly, I wasn’t the least bit disappointed in the new potato masher. I was disappointed in myself though; I felt like I was breaking my own rules! Cheating on myself! Straying from my morals! Obviously, I’d feel even worse if I *gasp* used the electric mixer (sorry, Aunt Rachel, my quintessential kitchen mentor). I will probably need to mash potatoes again very soon to verify the efficacy of this new tool. 🙂


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