A Real Potato

The news this week is not that Oregon's first licensed manufacturer of psilocybin edibles began production in the Ostrich's humble hometown. The news is that Vera Maraschino, our grudging food reporter, promised me a column that would "knock my snocks off," and then arrived at my office to deliver not one printed word, but a single raw potato. Which she placed on my desk, solemn as an acolyte.

Publisher: Um, what's this?

Vera: Life, my friend. That is life.

Publisher: I believe it's a potato.

Vera: Your belief—is justified.

Publisher: I have an awful premonition that you didn't write your column.

Vera: No, I harvested it!

Publisher: This is your column? This potato?

Vera: Jesus, Tom, it has a name.

Publisher: The potato has a name?

Vera: Yukon Gold. Isn't that beautiful? The sun never sets in the Yukon. Never. Sets.

Publisher: I think it does, though.

Vera: Midnight sun. Which means Antarctica must have a—noon—moon.

Publisher: Vera, how are you doing?

Vera: Noon moon! Noon moon! Noooooon. Moooooon.

Publisher: Tell me about the potato.

Vera: Tell me about your dreams. No! Don't! Your dreams are nightmares, I know it. You have vampires. You have worms! You have mole rats. You have...

Publisher: The potato.

Vera: Yes! You have the potato. You have the life.

Publisher: How is the potato 'the life'?

Vera: All the vitamins. All them. Even C. You can't make C, but YGP can.

Publisher: —Its last name is 'Potato?'

Vera: Its last name is Love. With a silent p. Plove.

Publisher: It has all the vitamins? Is that true?

Vera: And the nutrients. Amino Acids. Antioxidants. Everything.

Publisher: Wow.

Vera: They shouldn't let bagels be called everything, when potatoes are the real everything.

Publisher: Can I get you a glass of water, maybe?

Vera: If they put all the stuff from an everything bagel on a potato, it would be double everything. Infinite everything.

Publisher: They have that. It's called a baked potato.

Vera: [Stares at the potato, wide-eyed, for three silent minutes.]

Publisher: Here's that glass of water.

Vera: [whispers] Ev-ry-thing.

Publisher: Vera, your column has the front page this week. What should I do about your article?

Vera: Send them the potato!

Publisher: You want me to transmit the potato?

Vera: I bet nobody's article was a potato before, not a real potato.

Publisher: I bet you're right.

Vera: We're gonna win a Pulitzer.

Publisher: That's one possibility.

Vera: You can't cook potatoes wrong. Boil 'em: delicious. Mash 'em: delicious. Bake 'em: delicious. Roast 'em: delicious. Throw 'em in a fire: delicious. Even on a diet, the diet people say, 'No starches,' and you're like, 'No potatoes?' And they go, 'Sure, you have have potatoes. Potato it up. But not chips.' Oh, chips! I forgot. Fry 'em: delicious. Can you believe hash browns and french fries and tater tots all come from the same vegetable? Like, when the devil made pork, God must have said, 'I'll show you. Bam! Here's a potato.'

Publisher: You should write that down.

Vera: [crying] I can't write a potato. I tried. I'm begging you, just give them the real thing.