The Soderborgs came to town to visit this week. They knew about a certain delicacy even we hadn’t heard about yet and were on a mission to find it here in Singapore. They had been told that the 7-11s have mashed potato dispensers. They were not disappointed. We were at East Coast Beach today and saw a 7-11 so we couldn’t possibly pass by without checking it out. Sure enough. We found a mashed potato dispenser! How cool is that?!?!
I was determined to try it, but Carl’s Junior was in the next building over. We decided to grab lunch then return for slurpee desert for everyone else and mashed potato for me. Before we left I wanted to snap a picture. It didn’t disappoint. What do you think Brent? First we take you for dinner at the local chicken rice place. You translated the restaurant name, Loy Kee, into Thai and tell us it means “floating poo”. Now the mashed potato machine ACTUALLY SAYS IN ENGLISH “poo” and “flush”. Maybe I don’t want to try it. We’ll have to wait for another day to find out if I have the stomach for it. I had forgotten how B-I-G a Carl’s Junior burger can be. All five of us were absolutely stuffed and had to pass on the 7-11 stop after lunch. Next time…well…maybe…if the machine doesn’t say “poo” and “flush” it might help out mentally at least.
Random Childhood Memory: My family may think that blog post title refers to my ability to consume mashed potato. Boy could our family put those potatoes away! After Sunday dinner we used to scrap the pressure cooker clean of all mashed potato remnants. I even recall one warm summer evening getting tossed out of the kitchen with my two younger siblings. We were sent to the front porch with what amounted to a mashed potato ball. We used the spatula to scrape the pot clean and noticed it sort of stuck to itself if we shaped it with the spatula so being the bright children we were we made balls of the stuff to play with like play dough. We must have been having too much fun because we got booted, each of us with a mashed potato ball about the size of a racket ball. It was so much fun and we played as we nibbled because as much as we wanted to eat our potatoes we didn’t want to be the only kid without a mashed potato ball to play with and show off. Now as an adult it sounds a little gross. Where had my hands been? How many hours had it been since I washed? Yuck. Still, I might make mashed potato balls for my kids for dinner tomorrow. They’d love it!