Sympathy Spuds

I've never thought I was a bad cook, necessarily. But since moving in with this family, it's been all kinds of bad. My successes were only things that are real "American", which happens to be synonymous with "has a lot of sugar" and/or "from Mexico". So while I have continued to make good pancakes, and pulled off these Salted Caramel and Chocolate Chip Cookie Bars, and made some decent burritos, one time..., there's little else I've done really well.

And it's painfully obvious that the family knows it too.

How do I know they know? Glad you asked.

You know how people tend to delegate work to others depending on how capable that person is of accomplishing the work? For example, "Oh over-achieving Orloff, you're perfect for the lead role" versus "I know you want to help with the school play, always-eats-glue Ansel, so why don't youuu stand in the back and hold the free-standing mirror for people!?" (Note: italics emphasize the "sympathy" tone.) In my case, every day recently I've been left a note, or received a call saying "So Sarah, do you think you could make the potatoes tonight...?" And every day, I make the side dish. Potatoes: Wash. Peel. Put in machine that cooks them. Set timer. Remove. Eat. (Other specialties include: microwaving potatoes from the night before, baking potatoes instead of steaming them, and cutting potatoes up into smaller pieces so they look like french fries but really, they are still just potatoes.)

I AM the potato girl.

But. Tomorrow night is my second chance. I've been practicing. Getting stronger. And tomorrow, after I watch this YouTube clip a few times, I'm putting my potatoey past behind me. (Of course I'm also making peanut butter cookies... You always have to have a good American backup.) Wish me luck.