If potatoes are my father, then apples are my mother.
And no, smarty pants, that does not mean that I am some misbegotten product of genetic engineering (the papple? the aptato?), I mean that there is no food I associate more with my Da than boiled potatoes and no greater sweetness than the Mammy’s apple tart or crumble.
Separate and individual, vegetable and fruit, they can, like parents, be happy cohabitants. Think potato pancakes and apple sauce.
So, too, with these potato-apple parcels. Lofty apples wrapped in earthy potato pastry.
Together, like all the best couples, they seem like they were meant to be. Continue reading