There’s a lot going on in the world. The Far East is bad. The Middle East is worse. The political landscape of this country is like a post-apocalyptic Cormac McCarthy novel. Thus, in these very serious times, Beyond Reason will now consider potato salad.
We will consider potato salad for three reasons. 1) The word “potato” is funny. “Potato”, the word, is fun to say. “Potato”, the word, pops off the tongue. Unlike, potato, the food, which, for the tongue, is just kind of meh. 2) Potato salad is a summer staple. Counterpoint: Should potato salad be a summer staple? 3) If we did not consider potato salad, we would need to consider more serious problems in this world and no one wants that.
I won’t delve deep into the history of potatoes because I have but one life to lead and I’m not going to squander it delving deep into the history of potatoes. Thus, I offer you: A Truncated, Cursory History of the Potato. Potatoes were first cultivated by the Incas in Peru around 6000 BCE. In the late 16th century, Spanish conquistadors brought the potato back to Spain. Early in the 17th century, Germany got a hold of the potato and pretty much ruined everything. By the 18th century, Germans gave the world potato salad! In the 19th century, Germans brought potato salad to America and German Americans made potato salad worse.
Before we move on, our extremely breezy consideration of the potato should mention the Irish potato famine. Ordinarily I don’t do a lot of jokes about famine. It’s hard to land a joke about famine. (You know what’s hilarious? Famine!) But the degree of difficulty kind of makes it fun. Also, everyone likes jokes about blight. Finally, a potato famine is a unique kind of famine because “potato famine” is almost an oxymoron. Is there really such a thing as too few potatoes?
Now back to making fun of Germans. The original potato salad was primarily made with oil, vinaigrettes, and herbs. When, early in the 20th century, the potato salad reached the good ol’ US of A, another German (notice a trend here?) named Richard Hellmann started mass producing mayonnaise. Some German person made potato salad with mayonnaise and the rest, as they say, is potato salad history.
Today the mayonnaise-forward potato salad is now a common sight at many events. From picnics to barbecues, from potlucks to family reunions, from church basements to tailgating. But personally, I think potato salad really shines at a funeral. There’s something about the proximity to death that really puts potato salad in a helpful, I-guess-it-could-be-worse kind of context.
I believe it was Aristotle who first asked, “Is potato salad good?”
I know of people who are said to be “famous” for their potato salad. But if you’re famous, are you good? In this country the answer is an unequivocal “Yes!”. So that answers that.
As a counterpoint, I offer this story. Recently we went to our cabin and brought a cooler full of food. In our haste, we inadvertently left our cooler on the porch overnight. In the morning we watched our security camera footage of a large, mama bear completely devouring or, in the parlance of the young, “smashing” almost everything inside. She “smashed” the fruits and nuts and lettuce and tofu and eggs. She “smashed” three cartons of soy milk. Finally, that mama bear briefly considered the potato salad and conspicuously left it alone, entirely unsmashed.
Let’s give Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong the final word on the subject. They say: You like potato. I like poh-tah-to. Let’s call the whole thing off. To which a nitpicker might cry: “No one actually says ‘poh-tah-to’”. Which, technically, is true. So… let’s call the calling off off. In fact, we better call the calling off off.