Something We Can Agree Upon

In this time of political incivility and divisive civics I’m often caught expressing my want of an alien invasion so we can all just be humans. But as a farmer, even I cannot escape innate behaviors for specific groups to separate and at times, clash.Recently I spoke at a conference about the profitability of small ruminants, explaining that sheep and goats can be kept together, but they’ll separate into groups of their own species barely tolerating each other. Humans don’t have a corner on the market when it comes to partisan politics.I’ve had customers decry the death of democracy and roar over the fallacy of impeachment, but most are becoming ambivalent to the constant sniping on either side of the isle. Like the sheep and goats who keep in separate areas of the pasture, market patrons just want to eat. In these frustrating times, I see many turning to comfort foods. The one that keeps cropping up:Mashed PotatoesWith Thanksgiving and Christmas in our rearview mirrors and temperatures reaching the 60’s, one would think mashed potato season is over—wrong. Potatoes are winter staples due to their extended storage capabilities. There are Russets, Yukon Golds, and Peruvian Purples {my personal favorite} from which to choose. When feelings of despair start creeping in, it’s time to whip up a batch of Market Mashed Potatoes using my grandma’s old-fashioned hand masher to take out my aggressions. Forget butter and cream—go straight for the crème fraîche with a splash of hot beef stock, preferably with some melted tallow to crank up the silky texture. Any week now green garlic should be showing up at the markets, too. Garlicky mashed potatoes…mmmmmm, but for now I’ll have to make do with the green shoots from the red onions I’ve overwintered from Spiral Path Farm.If that’s not enough to chase away the doldrums, add cheese…lots of cheese. A few tablespoons of fresh ricotta, a half a log of chèvre, a cup of grated Gruyere—it doesn’t matter as long as the gooey goodness lulls you into starch, fat and flavor coma drowning out the talking heads debating only their point of view.Similar to our government’s two-party system, yes, potatoes come in two affiliations; don’t forget the sweet potatoes. Have you seen those two-pound honkers showing up as the market season goes on? They’re often referred to as number twos since they are so huge and appear as the premium tubers (number ones) dwindle in supply.Sure, you can make savory mashed potatoes out of them, but in more than just name they beg to be sweet. I prefer those mashed potatoes to be mixed with maple syrup (of which the season is almost upon us), a few eggs, cinnamon, nutmeg a splash of bourbon in lieu of vanilla and baked in a pie shell, preferably one made with rendered lard.If that’s not enough to alleviate my fears for the future, there’s only one thing that can top my mashed potatoes. No, not a ladle of gravy or a dollop of whipped cream. It’s time to pull out all the stops and go snuggle with the baby lambs.