TATER TALKPosted: January 22, 2014
As most of my fans and readers are aware by now, I hail from Idaho–the
“Famous Potato” state. Our license plates, twice awarded “Plate of the Year” by the National Association of License Plate Collectors, read “Famous Potatoes”. As I recall there was a period of time when Idaho-uns decided this state motto was hokey and sought to change it to something more sophisticated and classy. They lost.
Sure, Maine grows fine potatoes but they have a silly motto: “Dirigo”, which is Latin for “I Direct”. What kind of motto is this? A dumb one, if you were to ask me. And no one did.
I am not trying to impress you, but my cousin Corrie’s grandfather—that would be my father’s sister’s father, invented the TATER TOT. I am serious. The man, Henry Chase, along with the Grigg brothers, came up with the idea to form potato scraps into small turds, freeze them, sell them to Ore-Ida and make a small fortune. With this extra cash he bought billions of acres of land around the Cascade Lake in central Idaho, where my family now owns a rickety yet cozy cabin. Cousin Corrie, on the other hand, enjoys a lodge-like mansion just down the dusty road from ours. Her’s overlooks “Henry’s Pond” which is nothing more than a big puddle of murky water housing thousands of mosquitoes each summer.
Corrie also has batts in her belfry. Literally. I am petrified when she invites us over for some of her fabulous cooking, as I know little black mammals are watching us from the rafters. Any moment one could swoop down and get in my ponytail. Sometimes there are so many winged creatures in her attic her husband Jim has to get out a baseball bat. And then it gets ugly. A bat and too many batts.
But my point is we have great potatoes out in Idaho, and are proud of them. This is probably why I married a man by the name of BAKER…