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Category: Utensils (Page 1 of 3)

Spud Sunday: Mashing Machine

In what might just have been the ultimate way to spend a Spud Sunday, I was, this past weekend, in far West Kerry, immersed in Féile an Phráta and An Spud-Off Mór (that’s the Festival of the Potato and the Big Spud-Off for those in need of a translation).

Competition spud

Judging spuds: one of many Kerry spuds to come under scrutiny this weekend

A full report will follow in due course on my spud adventuring (though not before I take off again next weekend for a packed few days at the London Food Blogger Connect conference, where, the programme reminds me, that I’ll be speaking on Friday afternoon and again on Sunday morning on blogging, writing and – in all likelihood – on spuds; it’s a subject I find hard to avoid).

Indeed, were it not for my prior foreign engagement, I’d be tempted to stay in Kerry where, hot on the heels of this weekend’s festivities, are the Flavour of Kilorglin, taking place from 5th-7th July and the Kenmare Food Carnival from the 12th-14th – plenty to occupy those in a food festival frame of mind. In the meantime, while you await news of potato festival delights, herewith a little light reading on the latest bit of spud gadgetry to come my way.

Mash is like that little girl of nursery rhyme renown: when it is good, it is very, very good; when it is bad, it is horrid. A fellow festival goer this weekend reminded me of just how horrid that horrid can be, when she described the misery of her mother’s mash: overcooked, watery potatoes, added to a blender and made pourable with a large quantity of milk. A sad and sorry end for any self-respecting spud.

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Spud Sunday: Mushy Mushy

My non-stick pan, it transpires, is really nothing of the sort.

This I discovered today, when I used it to make a colcannon-inspired potato cake, fashioned from julienned potatoes and filled with a mix of cabbage and onion. The cake should have had a really rather appealing pattern of golden potato sticks top and bottom. Instead, having resolutely stuck to the not-so-non-stick pan, the result looked like mush. Very tasty mush, I might add, but mush nonetheless. Hmph.

I actually considered not posting about it. In the hotdog-eat-hotdog world of food porn, this dish didn’t exactly have those porn star good looks. But, as I surveyed the dinner plates that had all but been licked clean, I knew that what it lacked in the looks department, it more than made up for in the I-could-eat-a-mountain-of-this stakes. I mean, this was colcannon with crispy bits. I managed to dress what remained of the mush up for the cameras and got on with it.

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