It's a cool, dreary day here in Tampa. I've been spending the day reading and working on Lauderdale, and taking periodic breaks to work on my culinary masterpiece of the day, lentil soup. The broth has been on since about noon. Around three I added the leeks, potatoes, and parsnips.
The potatoes interested me. I purchased a bag of yellow potatoes at the commissary and didn't think much of it, but when I pulled the bag from the fridge I happened to see written on it: "Same-size potatoes." It's in small print on the front. Same-size potatoes.
They are. It's weird. I mean, it's such a small thing. When I want to put in another potato, I don't have to dig for one the right size. They're all the same size.
I've never bought a bag of potatoes that were all the same size before. How convenient. I wonder how much more it costs in production terms, because I assume they either pay somebody or installed some machine to make sure every bag contains potatoes the same size. And I thought there'd been no real innovations in produce since the honeycrisp apple.