Not the French fries!
If you know me even very remotely, then you must know by now I don’t cook. Furthermore, cooking is so big, such a big deal, than most probably when I am cooking I will be referring to it as “making food”.So today I have cooked. That would be French potatoes - no, not to be mistaken for French fries. And what, may I ask, were the reactions I got?!?My mom asked me “Are you short for cash?”, my boyfriend said “Are you going to die after you eat them potatoes” (he is the wonder cook between the two of us, but the potatoes have been lying around for a very long while), and my best friend said “…but I don’t like French potatoes” and that was as he was confessing he’d like to eat something and I invited him over.Oh, well.For the record, I like French potatoes, they are part of the nice memories. Dating back to dark communist times, I remember getting home from school and getting notes from my parents: ” There’s a pot, stick it in the oven, leave it for 20 minutes and eat”. And let me tell you, that sour cream was hard to come by during those times!So guess what am I having as we speak? 
