As it happens, I’ve never been a massive fan of potatoes. Shock horror. I blame my childhood. Endless evenings watching mum peeling and boiling spuds – the floury kind that stuck to the roof of your mouth. The worst kind being the “first earlies” that would be steamed and eaten in their skins with only butter making them palletable.
Mashed spuds were never really quite right, bereft as they were of any kind of milk or butter to make them creamy and I detested jacket spuds (I’m still not a fan to this day unless they are finished off on a barbeque…how utterly middle class of me). Chips were great because they were always freshly hand cut, but they were a once-a-week treat on a Saturday. How I looked forward to that.
