I explore the very boundaries of laziness. My utter sloth and lack of application mocks the purpose of human existence itself. Never have I been suspected of possessing a work ethic. Never have my fingers been worked even close to a bone. I am bone idle. I set the poorest of examples to my children. I am ashamed always but such is my torpor, nothing is done. Little is achieved! The novel lies unfinished! The records incomplete! The belly only quarter vanquished in the gymnasium! The root pruned but the orbs still grown over!……

I loathe peeling potatoes. I used to watch my Nan peeling muddy Herefordian spuds in a sink of muddy water. Blessed with the maternal skill of paring vegetables safely towards their thumb without gouges. My Ma can do it too and my wife. She’s not quite in possession of itamae-san (super-badass sushi chef) knife skills, but she can do the maternal paring towards the thumb thing. When I try, I try it only in front of the electric doors of the local A and E department. It’s like giving a flickknife to a dolphin, with a mangy flipper.

Due to my inability to do the memory-stirring thumb-paring thing, and my Olympian slackerdom, I hack potatoes into cubes. Slice off each side and then the ends. You lose probably about thirty percent of the potato in the process, but then you have more time to read or sleep or write blogs about potato peeling. Also you have pro looking blocks of potato. Tuber-dice, spud-Cubes from ‘Terrahawks’.

Here are the Cubes from ‘Terrahawks’ winning at Naughts and Crosses. 


They were not made of potato. If they were Doctor Tiger Ninestein would have done in Zelda too easily for a serial to have been made about them and then this post would never have become real and now somehow we have found ourselves in a mess of tenses, tubers, retro-television shows that idiots on Channel Four list-shows could giggle about, and the awful bracken and bramble disaster that is my memory.

I have felt guilty about wasting all that potato for years so the other night I did this to them. They were lush and the dip with them tastes like what I imagine Americans eat while watching sport. In all, these things are win-win food. You get awesome blocks of potato to do whatever with and you get these snack things to get fat on while you work out what exactly to do with the spud-lego or while you look up further episodes of old television shows you used to watch before life happened and age and decrepitude started lurking down the foot of your bed like a sarcastic, grey, reaper wraith.

“You are so old and miserable Sam” says the reaper-wraith spectre sort who lives at the foot of my marital bed.

“I’ve woken up with dip in my beard” says I.


Lazy Potato Things: (I know, the photos are getting worse. I’m working (lazily) on it.



however many potatoes (big ones) you want to use for your proper meal.

garlic powder

smoked Salt

black pepper

grapeseed oil

Do the lazy routine on the potatoes. Chop off one long side so the spud sits flat on a board then remove all the other three round sides and the two round ends. Put the resultant rectangle cubes to one side.

Toss the skins you just removed lightly in the oil.

Dust ’em with garlic powder, smoked salt and grind over a decent amount of pepper.

Put them on a baking tray in a pre-heated 140c oven for twenty minutes then ramp it up to 200/220c until they crisp up. Probably another twenty minutes but for all I know you put them in a box on a bonfire or in your kid’s EazyBake Kitchenette ToasterOven. Look for crispy, then take them out.

Eat them with the dip that follows or some other trashy sauce you have….like the BBQ sauce from last time we danced this foul blog chat jive! You remember! Don’t be shy! The sauce recipe from last time? You don’t remember? What? You have never even visited this place before? Really? Oh God. I am talking to no one. Mum?


Spicy Buttermilk Dip:

buttermilk, 1 cup

sriracha chilli sauce, 1/4 cup

lemon, juice of half


Mix it all up and make it taste good to you. My palate is pretty dumb so mine is pretty hot. My Ma is super into citrus so hers would taste like spicy lemon curd. At the end of the day it’s lush but trashy as, so go forth and make like a low-rent stripper, go gaudy, loud and bad for your arteries. You deserve it, you made potatoes look futuristic and square.


This entry was posted in Recipe.

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