My mother-in-law was the Best. Cook. Ever. Mashed potatoes were a staple at each meal. Creamy, fluffy, butter filled scrumptiousness. But try as I might I never could replicate the texture or flavor of her mashed potatoes. Epic fail. Every time.
One day when grocery shopping I dropped some Idahoan Mashed Potatoes into my grocery cart. I sneakily made them one night to accompany a roast.
My parents turned me on to olive oil years ago when my dad started using it to lower his cholesterol. But even though I knew it was healthier for us to use rather than butter in the frying pan, sometimes the flavor of it combined with what I was making just seemed off.
Thanksgiving dinner is about the only time I can get away with serving squash at the dinner table – I love it, but the rest of my family not so much.