It is mid-September in Minnesota and I can already feel the fall air beginning to creep in. Even though I love, love, love summer and I wait for it all year round, I have to admit, Minnesota fall is my spirit animal. I crave the crisp air, the painted leaves, the wool sweaters, the boots, the bonfires, and of course the foods like Grandma’s hotdish, hot creamy soup or spicy chili, and steaming mugs of fresh apple cider – all the hallmarks of this beautiful and beloved season in the midwest.
I think I am Jewish. I don’t have 100% proof (other than my deep love for Jewish food and culture), but our ancestors DID flee from Russia to Germany and changed their name from Meyer to Mayer. Just saying. So I celebrate my potential Jewish heritage through cooking and appreciation for such a deep, historical religion and culture.
Is there really anything better than a big bowl of creamy, silky mashed potatoes? Maybe, but I really doubt it. I once worked with a gal who jokingly (sort of) said that if she could swim in a delicious vat of buttery, mashed potatoes – she would…..I agreed.