At UCLA, an endless deluge of class work is the least of our
problems. We have to earn money, scour Westwood for parking, pay
bills, take out the trash, and ““ horror! ““ feed
ourselves.
While this last requirement can lead to a steady diet of ramen
noodles and frozen pizzas, food can be better.
For example, today I’m making mashed potatoes. Start with
three medium potatoes and remove the skins with a … uh-oh.
Something’s missing.
Another challenge we face is the need to get along with a
roommate, which would be a lot easier for me if the idiot
didn’t keep taking my ““ where’s the potato
peeler?
If your roommate has been using the peeler to scrape calluses
off the bottoms of his feet, you can just use a paring knife
instead.
Actually, since that takes about twice as long, you can make
your roommate do it for you. A suggestion? Be sure he washes his
hands first.
While he peels the potatoes and dices them into 1-inch cubes,
you should put 5 inches of water into a pot, cover it, and turn the
stove up to high.
By the time you’ve found the offending peeler in his room
and thrown it away, your roommate should have finished chopping the
potatoes and the water should be boiling.
Have him carefully pour the potato cubes into the water. Oh, no,
he’s holding the plate too high. It’s going to splash.
Carefully, I said!
Apply first aid cream or a bag of frozen peas to the burns on
your roommate’s face and hands. Boil the potatoes until
tender, about 10 minutes. It would probably be best if you drained
the hot water from the pot yourself.
If you don’t have any first aid cream handy and want to
avoid the possibility of disfiguring burn blisters, you can cook
whole, unpeeled potatoes in the microwave for about five minutes
instead of boiling them. Stab them a few times so they don’t
explode. Nuke until soft, wait until cool, and scoop out the
insides.
After making sure he uses a clean fork, allow your roommate to
pulverize the cooked potato cubes. He will love this part, and
it’s okay if he does a terrible job ““ lumps are all
right.
Over low heat, stir half a cup of heavy whipping cream into the
potatoes. Cream is very important to the process, and the
measurement doesn’t have to be exact, just keep adding until
it looks right to you. Um, I thought I had the carton of cream
right … oh.
Wipe the luxuriously thick milk mustache off from under your
roommate’s nose. No matter what he says, a quart of cream
does not “do a body good.”
Fight the urge to squirt lemon juice into his eyes: If you keep
your cool, you can substitute a half cup of milk and a tablespoon
of butter for the cream.
After turning the heat off, add salt and pepper to taste.
Hmm, it looks like there’s already some pepper in here. I
don’t know how that happened.
Hey, roommate of mine? Did you somehow add the pepper
already?
Think hard about why there are black flakes in the mashed
potatoes if he denies having added any pepper.
Recall that you forgot to wash the pot before using it.
Recall that the last time you saw the pot, it was filled with
the charred remains of your roommate’s D+ lab report.
Offer your roommate some mashed potatoes.
Mine says they’re very good.
For a printable recipe card without all the antics, e-mail
Raab at lraab@media.ucla.edu.