I'd always attributed that aphorism to Benjamin Franklin, the great American patriot and polymath. Looking further, the phrase predates him considerably, to the 16th Century, though not so succinctly put. Regardless, I've always agreed with it, especially when considering the garden produce that I work so hard to provide. Nothing bothers me more than having my crops get wasted, because they can't be used in time.
It came to mind this week, when The Kitchen Goddess dispatched me to the "stores," to fetch some potatoes for a dish she was making. The spuds had been harvested in early September, and were being kept in a cool, dark room. Alas, I found that every remaining one had sprouted. I was going to throw the lot out, but we reconsidered, and decided we could use them anyway, even if they were a little soft.
I peeled them and put them in cold water while she was out.
|Peeled 'Kennebec' potatoes|
She did her typical magic, and took some to make gnocchi, by adding flour and egg to make a sort of dough. Then she rolled it into cylinders, sliced them, and pressed a fork onto them. Finally she dusted with corn meal. Here's the result.
The remaining potatoes were shredded. These can be used for potato pancakes, or that uniquely American dish, "hash browns." They were also put into the freezer.