Mashed, not whipped!

Mashed potatoes are one of the limited number of dishes I am truly comfortable making.

This wasn't always the case.

It always looked so easy when mom made them. Zip, splash, mash. They came out right every time.

The first time I made mashed potatoes for my extended family, I ended up in tears. It was Thanksgiving and I had been married for only a few months. I had made them a few times for Squeeze, but never on such a large scale.

I got cocky. It's true, though I'm ashamed to admit it. I ended up splashing too much milk into the pan. The result was more like buttery potato soup than mashed potatoes. I was devastated.

I've had nearly a quarter century of experience since then, and it has definitely become easier to get them right.

When I was discussing what I might bring to the office holiday potluck the other day, I jokingly suggested that I could bring mashed potatoes. I was surprised at the enthusiastic response my coworkers gave the suggestion.

I watched, bemused, as they decided that I should definitely bring gravy with the mashed potatoes. They didn't care what type, or that I planned to buy it canned, as long as they had the chance to pour it over homemade spuds.

To my knowledge, I have never made this dish for them. They had no idea whether I could make it competently. In fact, they had every reason to suspect a disaster considering how often I complain that I hate to cook, that I'm not good at it, and that I avoid cooking whenever possible. They were unreasonably excited about having this at the potluck.

It was hard to deny such enthusiasm, and I found myself agreeing to make them.

While Squeeze and Chill made dinner for us last night, I washed, peeled, cubed, salted and boiled. I made enough to fill a three-quart slow cooker to the top and still had leftovers. I don't normally make such large batches, so, remembering my Thanksgiving fiasco, I was very cautious when adding the salt, butter, and milk. I mashed and tasted, adjusted, mashed, and tasted again until I was, well, not exactly ecstatic, but happy enough with the result that I was willing to serve it to my friends, and eat it myself.

I admit that I was a little nervous. I'm much more confident about my baking than my cooking.

They turned out fine. The potluck was great.

As I was planning to leave for the day, three different coworkers asked if I would leave the leftovers for tomorrow. I agreed that I would.

“Your mashed potatoes were really good.”

Thank you.

“They were so fluffy. What did you do to make them fluffy?”

Nothing special. I just mashed them.

“They were so flavorful. What was in them? Did you use chicken broth?”

No. Just potatoes, milk, butter and salt.

“So how did you get them so fluffy?”

I just mashed them.

“But they were so light and smooth. You didn't do it by hand, did you?”

Yes, I did them by hand.

“Didn't that make your arm feel like it was going to fall off?”

A little.

“And you didn't use a mixer?”

No! You don't use a mixer on mashed potatoes! That's just wrong! It makes them all gluey and stiff.

It turns out that I have strong opinions about my mashed potatoes.

I stopped right then and told them exactly how I make them. Just in case you are interested, I'll tell you too.

Everyday Mashed Potatoes

one medium russet potato per person

butter

milk

salt

pepper (optional)

Wash and peel the potatoes. I once scared my father-in-law within an inch of his life when he saw me peeling potatoes with a knife and cutting them in my hand instead of using a vegetable peeler and a cutting board.

I do it the way I was taught. You should probably use safer methods.

Cube the peeled potatoes as preferred. I use 1-2 inch pieces. The smaller the pieces, the faster they'll mash. Place the cubed potatoes in a pot that gives you at least half an inch of space after you cover the potatoes with cold water. My mother always gives the potatoes an extra rinse before cooking. I finally asked her why, and she said that she can't stand the look of the ones that have been exposed to the air too long, and that rinsing them makes her feel better.

Scatter salt over the water-covered potatoes. I never measure this. I just shake the big cannister until the amount feels right. I think the potatoes taste better when they are salted before cooking. (Less is better if you're new to this. You can always add more once they are cooked until you feel able to gauge it to your liking.)

Boil the salted potatoes until they break apart when you stir them. The water should be littered with potato bits.

Remove from the burner and drain the water from the pot. You can use a strainer for this, but it's quicker to just tip the lid a bit and hold it in place to catch the potatoes while you dump the water. If you're new to this, you might want some hot mitts to protect you from the steam, and if you wear glasses, don't expect to be able to see what you're doing if you lean over the draining pot.

If you haven't tipped them all into the sink, you are now ready to mash.

Forget those zig-zag wire mashers. Use a potato ricer. These have a sturdy handle attached to a perforated plate, through which you must pass your carbohydrate treat.

I always add butter before I start mashing. It lubricates things and makes the mashing easier. Plus, it makes them taste good. Go ahead and add some. More than that. A little more. Oh, just dump in a big wad and get it over with!

That's better. Now mash the butter into the potatoes. You don't want to be able to see the shape of the original cubed pieces. The mixture will be stiff at this point.

It's time to splash in some milk. Pour a little over the top - not too much – and mash again. Make sure that the milk gets evenly incorporated.

Monitor the texture as you mash. As long as they don't get too soupy you can add more butter or milk to adjust. Taste them to see how you've done. Add salt and pepper to taste. Eventually you will find the combination that works best for your taste.

Congratulations! You have achieved mashed potatoes. Eat and enjoy.