Happiness is a Warm Mashed Potato

Is there anything in this world more splendid than a good batch of mashed potatoes? The pillowy softness, the gritty skin between teeth, a combination so heavenly even the pickiest eaters can’t refuse. They’re a holiday must-have, yet a cook-for-one rarity. But why not? Today is a perfectly good day as any to serve the potato mashed, I’d say.

As a recovering carbophobe, I haven’t had many starches that didn’t also come with the caveat of a long run the next morning. For four years, that’s been my rule: you can have a bowl of pasta the night before anything over six miles. If you’re not running, you don’t need carbs.

Listen, I’m not a doctor, but this is FAKE SCIENCE. This rule comes from mindless scrolling and countless hours of “what I eat in a day videos”. It’s staying up late googling “what’s the healthiest breakfast”. It’s buying expensive protein powders and calorie counter app subscriptions in a small effort to attain an impossible body type invented by a patriarchal, capitalist society. It’s a restrictive, judgemental, all-consuming way to live. And yet. I can hardly resist.

It happens so fast sometimes I don’t even notice. I get hungry, so ridiculously hungry that it conquers me, and I panic. I worry that I haven’t eaten enough today, or that I’ve eaten too much, and I can’t think about what to eat now because I’m too hungry to think and I won’t make a good decision, so I might as well just eat all the day-old pastries in the kitchen at work but all that’s left is crusty plain croissants, so before I know it I’m in the protein bar aisle at H-E-B yet again, looking for something, ANYTHING, that vaguely reminds me of raw chocolate chip cookie dough, which is all I ever want anyway.

All that being said, I am getting better. I’m working on it. I really don’t want to be a diet culture crony anymore. It’s boring and outdated. Anyone who’s anyone eats sourdough bread these days, and besides, I would rather invoke my consciousness to be more expansive, compassionate, and accepting of all bodies, including (especially) my own. A crucial part of that process is reintroducing foods that used to scare me. Like potatoes.

Today, I boil them. I usually chop my sweet potatoes into quarter-sized pieces and drown them in bubbling salted water until they’re penetrable with a salad fork. Then I strain them and eat them plain - no extra salt, no oil, no spices.

I’m not proud of this. I read enough New York Times Cooking to know this is a truly pathetic expression of the culinary arts. Humans are doing unthinkable things with potatoes, but not me. I’m still just flirting with the potato, trying to figure out if we can make things work again, playing it safe until I feel safe again.

Mashed potato was a classic in my house growing up, a popular side to chicken breast and canned corn, which was the quintessential Haney meal. Sometimes my mom used Hungry Jack packets, but more often she’d fire up the hand mixer, the burnt smell of the winding (from overuse) mingling with Land O’Lakes and 2% milk. I matured into strong opinions about the cafeteria mashed potatoes, even stronger opinions about which relative should make them for Thanksgiving. The superior version, I believe, is skin-on and chunky, served as a large mound with a crater in the center, a slice of salted butter melting down and in.

When I get a hit of potato now it’s like magic. I’m instantly elevated, energized, focused. I feel all juiced up, like myself on steroids. I can’t believe potatoes are legal, that’s how good I feel. It’s like anything you used to do as a kid but won’t let yourself do anymore for whatever silly adult reasons you made up in order to have another boring, conforming, carbless life. And you know what? Potatoes ARE good for you! They have like a gazillion nutrients! Eat the damn potato! And better yet, MASH IT. Why the hell not? I dare you to make a single mashed potato for yourself and I double dog dare you to like it.

Every good mashed potato starts with butter and milk, but why not ghee and yogurt, if that’s what you have? Furthermore, why not olive oil and oat milk? Experiment. Go wild. It’s just one potato. You can always try again tomorrow.

I really let my creative spirit drive the ship on this one and I encourage you to do the same. Something about the beauty of a boiled Japanese sweet potato sent me soaring into pure flow state, BAM-ing things like Emeril Lagasse into my T.J. Maxx saucepan. I want that for you, too.

*A note from the chef: This recipe includes some hard-to-find ingredients that can easily be substituted. Any potato, any oil, and any vinegar should work perfectly fine. Sometimes I do this thing where I get really stoned and go to Whole Foods as self-care. That’s how I ended up with a Japanese sweet potato, ghee, and champagne vinegar. I will say if you can somehow get your hands on those things, it’s game over. I can 100% vouch for this version and these products because the synergy shocked and delighted me with its depth of flavor. I mean, it inspired me to write an entire blog post about mashed potatoes. Like, c’mon. Just try it if you can.

P.S. I am not sponsored by any of the links, so literally no pressure

Ingredients

1 Japanese sweet potato

1 tbsp ghee

lil lemon zest

1 garlic clove, minced

splash of champagne vinegar

lil bit of whole milk yogurt (i am addicted to this bulgarian yogurt)

coriander or other bitter-ish herb

salt

pepper

Directions

In a pot or saucepan, bring water with a pinch of salt to a boil over high heat.
Cut the potato into quarter-size pieces (leave skin ON for added nutrients, duh).
Once the water is boiling, add potato and cook for 10-ish minutes, checking tenderness every so often with a fork.
When potatoes are tender, use the lid of the saucepan to carefully dump out the water but not the potatoes (if you have a colander, do that, it’s probably easier).
Roll the potatoes around in the saucepan to dry them, then lightly mash with a fork. Enjoy this. It’s gonna take a while but it is really satisfying. Don’t worry about mashing all the pieces right now, you’ll get ‘em later.
Add ghee, yogurt, zest, and a splash of vinegar to the pot.
Stir to incorporate and do some more mashin’.
Taste and add things! I added salt and pepper, more vinegar, and coriander because it was the most bitter spice in my cabinet. Also could see some fresh herbs working well in this, plus you get to enjoy those gorgeous flecks of green.
Scoop out with an ice cream scoop and put on a plate. Create a divet in the center and top with ghee, butter, or gravy if you like that sorta thing. I don’t have a good recipe for that, but I trust you.