mashed potato

My friend's mom says buhtayduh. From Boston, no less. Friend can't take it anymore so he goes, "Mom. How many b's in the word potato?"

behold the bigness of it all

roasted chicken
small russet-type potatoes

which lets me play with my 14th favoritemost tool -- the squisher.

With interchangeable squishing discs.

Actually, a ricer because squasher or smasher or crusher or squeezer, or extruder, press, cell structure denature-er, starch rupturer, all are insufficiently eloquent, but how they get ricer is beyond me, the resulting mash in no way resembles rice.

Must add, the layer of fat that forms on the top of liquid gold when it cools in the refrigerator makes a fine protective cap. For the liquid gold in the refrigerator, not you. It can be peeled off, heated, and used like bacon fat. Schmaltz. Considered a panacea world round. Heals wounds. Insect stings, flu, colds, hives, malaria, diphtheria, vapors and other bilious fevers, stomatitis, spotted fever, scrofula, rickets, and so forth, rub it on your chest like Vicks VapoRub™. Keeps off the werewolves, but attracts insects. Here, use instead of butter with flour for a roux, to have added liquid gold and milk to make gravy. That you can use the icky fat that by itself is gross, with the giggly marrow-laden liquid gold chicken broth, that could put you off gelatin products entirely, along with the burned-on bits of fond at the bottom of a scorched pan lifted off by fierce deglazing and have all that result in the best tasting gravy on earth, EVER!, is evidence the cosmos appreciates a joke. Positively accommodating, the chilled fat is, to separate and harden like that for your lifting off convenience.

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