P.S. I Love You Potato

Rebel inherited many traits and interests from her grandmother, not the least of which is her love of potatoes, just about any way they are cooked. When she was a kid, she was all about loaded potato skins. Then the lactose free thing disrupted her from ordering those – and pretty much disrupted her life (#truestory). That’s why this recipe for Mini Loaded Potatoes was such a hit. She enjoyed a few, and then a few more. We had a laugh over what a true portion recommendation for the recipe should be. 

My mom loved, loved, loved a baked potato, especially one with a browned and crispy skin. Before microwave ovens, this was always how baked potatoes were served because they were slathered in shortening and baked in ovens.

I learned early that when Mom put a half of a potato on my plate, steaming, I had to move fast to get it all melty: make crosscuts and add margarine, mash and mix it all just right, and then add sour cream so that there was still a hot potato underneath with the cool sour cream on top. Mom thought it such a tragedy if any of us kids didn’t want to eat the skin, which for her was the best part.

I remember a time when we were on a trip with teenagers in our handbell choir. (Yep, handbells. Google it.) My parents always drove and chaperoned these trips where we traveled to a YMCA camp in the Colorado Rockies or to college campuses in Utah, Arizona or, this particular time, in Tacoma, Washington, so that we could play handbells with hundreds of other kids.

After one such trip and a week of eating in the dorms, our group had a celebration dinner at a restaurant before heading home. Mom had mentioned for days the lack of baked potatoes in the dining hall. I don’t know if I’d ever seen her express a craving like this. She was looking forward to dinner out because she would at last get that baked potato.

The waitress started around the table and finally came to Mom for her order. After taking the other 20-plus orders, the waitress informed Mom that, for the last two or three of us at the end of the table, they were now out of baked potatoes. Several of the kids offered up their potato, but true to form, Mom wouldn’t have it. The following night, after our family had split off from the group to go on our big Canadian adventure, she got her potato.

~ Lee