Sunday night blues: I got ’em. The days are getting ever so slightly longer, but sometimes the weekends feel like they fly by. We had such a great weekend, and getting back into the weekday grind with a week full of meetings makes me feel kind of blergh. We already binge-watched the rest of Season 4 of Downton Abbey on amazon prime’s streaming service, and so our usual Monday night entertainment is over (we usually watch it after it airs on PBS). We’ve run out of steam to go out to eat, and I felt compelled to make something of the turkey from Friday night.
Enter: truffled mashed potatoes (from Foolproof). Because while they seem like they’d be excellent special occasion food (and I’m sure they are), sometimes you need something special to elevate the everyday.
First of all, I finally didn’t royally screw up an Ina mashed potato recipe!! Here’s the secret: don’t use all the liquid. She practically admits that she calls for too much liquid in this recipe, when she says that if you have leftover truffle cream, you should save it for reheating potatoes later. Um, extra truffle cream? Excuse me, your contessa-ness? This explains why I’ve had so much difficulty with other mashed potato recipes of hers. Too much liquid = potato soup. Dole it out carefully, use your senses and your good judgment, and I promise I won’t look if you drink that extra liquid with a straw.
This recipe more than turned out. It might be my favorite Barefoot Contessa recipe to date. I made it while my husband was at church, doing the evening service. I greeted him at the door and practically shoved some in his mouth. “Are you food drunk?” he asked me. Later, he admitted that he thought I was exaggerating. I might be, um, prone to hyperbole. But he admitted that they were every bit as good as I promised they would be. He thought he detected a hint of mustard, and if I hadn’t made them myself, I would have sworn there was garlic in them. All of those complex flavors came from the truffles. I regret not making these for our guests when we made the turkey on Friday night, but it might have been better that we ate them unobserved. I wouldn’t want anyone to see how my eyes rolled back in my head a little bit every time I took a bite.