It all started when the church I attend was planning an after-service dinner. Someone came up with the ingenious idea of preparing large pans with labels in them. One was labeled "green beans", another "gravy", etc. That way each person who wishes to help by bringing in a dish can do so without duplicates or something missing. Great plan!
Well, I like to cook, and I have no problem pitching in to help, so I checked out the selections...rather, selection. When I got to the table where the pans were, there was one left. "Mashed Potatoes". I'm no genius, but I knew exactly why that pan was left after everyone had gone. I stood there gazing at the huge...VERY huge...pan, and my mind went back to my youth, when I would scrub, peel, cut up and rinse spuds for my mom when she was preparing a family meal. That was usually about six or eight potatoes for the four of us. This was going to take at least ten pounds.
As it turns out, it took fifteen pounds of whipped russets to fill that 13" X 16" oval pan! Two sticks of butter and a quart of milk added to the weight, also. I picked up the pan. I'm not afraid of tackling a tough job, even one no one else wants to do. Besides, it would be sad if everyone got to the dinner and found no one had made the mashed potatoes.
So I started with a 10lb. bag of potatoes, got them all prepared and boiled, and then went to get my mixer out of the pantry. Ah! There is was! Beaters...beaters...beaters?! Where were my beaters? I went through ever drawer and over every shelf in the house. No beaters! Had I accidentally thrown them away? Well, it's 4:00 am. I don't have time to waste. I made a quick run to Walmart, picked up a cheap ($7.00) mixer and another bag of potatoes. By then it was pretty obvious the first bag wasn't enough. Back home, whipped the potatoes I had cooked and began preparing the next batch. I figured five more pounds would cover it, and it did, even though not completely to the top of the pan.
While peeling and cutting the second batch I nicked my thumb. Aaaggghh! No blood! I cannot, will not, have any such contamination in my food! So I tossed that potato I was working on, thoroughly washed my thumb and the entire area, put pressure on to stop the little bit of bleeding, and found a band-aid. Glove...I would use a glove. No chances!
So now I'm back at work. The potatoes cooked, I added the butter, milk, and some salt, and whipped them up. Then I added to the pan and stirred everything up.
There are a few minor lumps left, but that just proves to everyone that I didn't just open ten boxes of instant potatoes. Then there's the clean-up! I don't care how neat a cook you are in the kitchen, mashed potatoes are a messy business - especially THAT many mashed potatoes.
When it comes to my turn in line, I am not certain, but I'm pretty sure I'll pass the potatoes by. I'm a taster while I cook...so I think I've had my share. Besides...I think I saw an eye that I missed in the pan staring at me.
Next dinner, I will try to get to the pan labeled "rolls." How hard can that be?
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