So I'm checking the fridge for dinner fixin's, and it's pretty grim. Mother Hubbardsville, as my father would say. I have a few potatoes, some seriously decrepit broccoli, and the tail end of a pint of sour cream that Eamon bought because the store was out of whipping cream.
How did I know that I could cook the potatoes in just enough water to cover plus a few teaspoons of chicken boullion?
Why did I think to throw a few cloves of garlic in as well, and a handful of dried tarragon?
How is it possible I thought to steam the broccoli, then add it after the potatoes were soft? And then to whirl it all together with my fantastic immersion blender?
And what on earth possessed me to temper the sour cream by adding a bit of the hot puree and mixing before adding the mixture to the pot, to avoid curdling?
The salt and pepper to taste? Well, that was obvious. But the rest? It is futile to ponder the source of genius.
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