Retrieving some weeny-looking potatoes from the depths of the chilly root cellar this morning, it occurred to me how few of my spuds were grocery store- or Martha Stewart-perfect. I usually have to peel off a spot or two from the smaller ones before eating them. This is not terribly unusual: our clay soils are “heavy” and not the best for potatoes. The very same potatoes were grown in the sandy soils of the school’s garden and they achieved monster, spot-free proportions…it made me momentarily wistful for a looser growing medium. Momentarily, that is.
There’s a lesson in here somewhere. Not all you grow looks perfect. This is beyond okay: the taste is reason enough to do it. Taste, and a small smirk of satisfaction.
The school’s potatoes went mushy and sprouty at about twice the rate as the home-grown ones did: a lesson learned for the children (eat them quickly) and a lesson learned for me (stop whining about your clay).