Things Your Mother Never Told You: Potatoes and Cheese

Last night Shawn and I were cooking dinner. Shawn was going to steam some cauliflower and broccoli, and fry some Italian sausages. I got the fabulous idea to make twice baked potatoes. Just thinking of them now makes me drool. I had never made them before, but thought I could figure it out.I sat down at the table and pulled out 4 potatoes. I sliced each in half and, using a metal spoon, began carving out the innards and placing them in a bowl.

"This is much harder than I thought it would be," I said to Shawn who was busy at the stove. "I wonder how I get the outsides softer, or if they just soften when I put them in to bake.." I put aside the thought, and hallowed out 4 of the 8 halves. It was at this point, when my arm was about ready to give way, that I decided to call my mom.

"Do I have to boil the potatoes before I cut them in half to make twice baked potatoes?" I asked.

"No, you bake them," she said matter of fact. "That's why they are called TWICE baked potatoes. You bake them twice."

I was silent.

"Why? What have you done so far?" she asked.

"Cut them all in half, and emptied the innards out of half of them," I replied.

"Wasn't that hard?" she replied laughing.

"Well, yea, but I just figured they would soften after I baked them."

It was at this point that she informed me there was no way to continue on the beautiful road leading to twice baked potatoes. Instead, she suggested I chop all of them up and make mashed potatoes.

My dreams were crushed. My hopes were dashed. My glorious potatoes were not going to materialize. I angrily chopped up the potatoes, recalling my conversation with my mom to Shawn.

"They'll still be good, baby. You make awesome mashed potatoes," he said, trying to perk my spirits.

He was right. I do make some B.A. mashed taters, but it was the fact of the matter.

I boiled my potatoes, angrily.
I mashed my potatoes, with a whisk mind you, angrily.
I seasoned and mixed my potatoes, angrily.

Finally, I thought to myself, I'm gonna make these good. They will be BETTER than the glorious twice baked potatoes, and will take less time. Now, usually, I broil cheddar cheese on the top of my taters. We didn't have any cheddar. Instead, I found American cheese squares. I tiled them onto the potatoes, and tossed them in the broiler.

Cheddar cheese, and American cheese squares do NOT melt the same. Nor do they broil to the beautiful crispy golden brown in the same way. American cheese squares burn. They didn't burst into flames, but they might as well have done so. They were black. Charred. Very un-glorious. These potatoes were going to be the death of me.

"You don't have to eat them," I said to Shawn, very disheartened.

"They'll be good!" He said giving me a kiss on the cheek.

That boy piled his plate with my ugly potatoes. We sat down at the table and looked at our plates. Then we looked at each other. The pressure was on of who was going to taste test the hideous mound of mashed dreams that was resting on the white and black plastic dishware. He took a bite.

"Oh-ho my God, baby," he said laughing, "These are delicious!"

I took a bite. He was right. These potatoes were great. They didn't burn, the cheese had just crisped to a different color. And the American Cheese gave an amazing creaminess to the potatoes that Cheddar isn't able to provide.

Although I still want to make proper twice baked potatoes, I'm glad I made this mistake to learn this delicious lesson.