And His Bucket of Parts...

I never had a Mr. Potato Head. Although I always wanted one. Call it an early fixation with food, or maybe it was that I always had an appreciation for polymorphous objects, but I admired that tuber. I guess it can be simply put-- I love oddly shaped fruits and vegetables.

Last week, I squealed with glee when I spotted this baby at the farmers market. "Look," I exclaimed to Brian, "it's better than a potato-head! It's a potato-man!" It was weighed by the vendor (and it was a weighty starch), and I put it in my satchel. There it sat on the kitchen counter, offering me company, and a smile (mine, not the potato's) whenever I was in the kitchen.

But alas, the potato was consumed. It's limbs were lopped off and I made a rosti, or a large, shredded potato cake later that week. It was delicious, crisp and golden-brown, with just the right amount of chewiness. I said the Kaddish, then ate up! Just kidding...

In other news: You might notice a little something new, on the right-hand side of this site. It's a picture, and a link to my upcoming book. Lately, there has been a bevy of manuscripts, emails, and a healthy dose of me pulling at my already cropped locks. But this week I sent the final proofs back to my editor. I can hardly believe the whole process is winding down. And that whooshing sound that you just heard? Oh, that was just me breathing a huge sigh of relief.