Potatoes and I are a lot alike. Oh sure my skin may be a bit thicker and my eyes are a tad glassier but otherwise white starchy spuds and bulky buds like myself have always been the best of friends. I know I should focus on less caloric carbs and eat more greens, but when you cater to taters of that particular sheen, they can inspire unexpected ill thrills for the gills and wet public scenes.
So with my predisposition to tasty tubers I guess I need to look for a more acceptable color in my favorite ‘booty-building’ rooty foodie ? Maybe a cool shade of red, gold, or if recent restaurant reconnaissance is to be trusted, a fake canned tan Orange, like something rusted. Yes, why so suddenly does the lowly sweet potato get to show its bronzed complexion on the front of every menu, yet its ashen cousins are thrown back in the mud under the dud-spud truck.
Sometimes I think these eatery geniuses all steal the same ideas and rush to shove the same exact stuff down my gullet all at the same time. Why must all of my tots, chips, n’ fries be spawned from a Yam daddy to insight ‘sighs’, but the poor old Yukon, red skin, and russets among us face turned up noses and get cussed at. If only there were a way to eat the sweets with all their fiber and healthy vitamins A through E without the endless 'benefit' campaign haranguing me.
Yes I guess when I eat out and graze, I’m a little sensitive about facing the tater terrors and being ‘saved’ by half-baked nutritional potato heads at every turn of the laminated menu. I’m not bitter against the sweet potato itself just the uber tuber fanatics who want to boil me in butter if I potato-pamper myself to a spud of any other color but orange. A truce is in order to this civil war since my issue is more about delivery than what yam I can ram into my fam. So I turn my big mouth South and set beady eyes towards mashed surrender and compromise, with food of true-blue orange hue and healthy ties – a double oven dose of Sweet Potato PIES!