Raw Potatoes

I grew up peeling them for mashed,
cubing them for fried, or mustard salads
which I didn't even like that much,
but always, I would munch a few
uncooked, the texture and the taste
so different. The crunch, the marriage
of the moisture and the fibrous solid,
antithesis to mushy mound of what
would come from cooking, which I
loved with lots of salt and butter,
and still do, although I add a little
sour cream as well, which neither
parent thought was worthy of instruction.
So much we learn as children can be
taken as the gospel as we grow to be
adults, and yet there's room to add
our flavoring, more to our liking,
homage to the person we've become.
We did it, and our children after us,
and still, the basics stay the same.
No matter how it's fixed, potatoes
are potatoes are potatoes, and no
matter how we differ, the DNA
that each of us now houses
shares a common strand.


(c) Ellen Gillette, 2015