Memory of New Potatoes

When I was about eight, my mother introduced me to something called new potatoes. My grandmother had recently sent us a box full of vegetables that she harvested from her vegetable garden, and among them were new potatoes.

“I’m going to make you a delicious snack with these,” said my mother, her voice dancing with excitement. “You are going to love it!”

I had no idea what could be so special about any potatoes, but my mother’s girlish excitement got me curious.

When the snack was ready, I went to the kitchen and eagerly received the bowl in my hand. It was a bowl of boiled potatoes, its steam carrying an incredibly enticing smell.

“What’s so special about boiled potatoes?” I asked my mother. Usually, potatoes were served with something else, never on their own. The view of steaming boiled potatoes occupying the entire bowl was new to me.

“You’ll see,” said my mother, her voice still full of excitement. She sprinkled a little bit of salt on the potatoes. “You can eat them now!”

Without much expectation, I picked one round steaming potato and took a bite. The most comforting fragrance of the potato spread in my mouth along with its heat and a delightful hint of salt. A happy sensation reached every part of my body.

“So delicious!!” I exclaimed as soon as I swallowed the potato. My eyes were watery due to the heat in my mouth. “I’ve never had such delicious potatoes in my life!”

“Told you so,” said my mother, grinning. She also picked up a potato and took a bite. We were both standing by the kitchen sink, indulging in the comfort of the boiled new potatoes and admiring their taste.

Then my mother told me to sit and enjoy the snack, which I did. From that day on, boiled new potatoes became one of my favourite snacks. For a few weeks, my mother made them almost daily for my snack after school, and sometimes, even my friends tasted them when they came to my house. My mother’s boiled new potatoes acquired quite a reputation that year.