I’m really digging on the idea of knowing where my food comes from. One particular instance is the sweet potatoes I cooked up for supper tonight. My husband (hereby known by as “the man”) was gifted by his papaw a big bucket of sweet ‘taters the other day. They have been sitting in the cabinet for a couple of weeks now, but that is perfectly fine for ‘taters, long as they are in a cool dry place. They don’t mind a bit.
These potatoes still had the dirt of Northeast Louisiana on them. I don’t know about you, and your level of food snobbery, but I think that is pretty cool. These weren’t from Africa or the Dominican or even from Texas (yes, Texas sometimes fits in that group), these were from Oak Grove, baby. An hour down the road. I like that, a lot.
Anyway, I was looking at these potatoes, and I realized one of them was looking back at me.
Do you see her yet? Hear, I’ll give you a better look.
The Sweet Potato Queen. Do you see her? She’s even smiling at you. Dirty little pig queen.
Anyway, back to my point. Look at all that dirt. I love it! It’s real, and I like real food. And it’s just dirt, you have to wash them up anyway. Here’s the Queen all spiffed up…
Funny thing about local foods is that your food starts taking on a character, like Queenie up there. Or this guy, who amused me after a long day at work…
After I was done amusing myself, I peeled and sliced these guys up, tossed ’em in some olive oil and tony’s, and put in the oven at 400 degrees for about 30 minutes.
And just cause I felt like experimenting, I sliced some up with a mandolin and tried baking some chips for the first time. They came out pretty good, and I look forward to fine tuning the baking times and flavorings. I sprinkled these with Tony’s and Cinnamon. Tasty. I had to bat the man’s hand away.
We paired these ‘taters with some grilled chicken breast and some leftover butter beans. A yummy supper, if I do say so myself. The only thing I didn’t like was during all that cutting and baking, the sun went down, so I missed my road run this evening. Headed to bed soon to wake up and go to the gym before school tomorrow. ‘Night y’all.