Erin's Recipes for People Who Can't Cook: Potato Salad Interlude

My dad once infuriated—infuriated—E3 by announcing that no matter what she did, he would never like something she had made as well as he would like the same dish made by my mother. This is not to say that E3 is bad in the kitchen—in fact, all four of the E's have decent, if wildly divergent, culinary skills.

In some ways, however, this gastroxenophoboic comment is not a surprising sentiment from SB; he's always been extremely loyal to my mother, particularly when it comes to food. He turns up his nose at anybody else's pumpkin pie, which is, admittedly, discerning of him, as my mother is a crust wizard. Many people who claim to despise crust will happily eat the crust on Mom's pie. I, sadly, did not inherit the crust gene (on a different chromosome than the gravy gene, apparently), but that is a story for another day.

Dad has the same attitude about potato salad: no matter who makes it, it cannot possibly be as good as Mom's.

Potato salad is a tricky thing—mustard or mayo, relish or no, what kind of potatos and how many hard-boiled eggs? My mother (and grandmother, as well) both make pretty kick-ass potato salad. Having been invited to an Independence Day barbeque/potluck, I called my mother last night to get the recipe. I discovered immediately why nobody can can make it like Mom.

"Well...the first thing is...you know there's not really a recipe, right?" Great. So here's the directions I got from Mom, for the best potato salad ever. Good luck, and don't try to feed it to SB.

Best Potato Salad Ever
Cut your potatoes in sort of length-wisey strips, to facilitate cubing later. Boil potatoes and cube. Put in bowl. Add "some" diced hard-boiled eggs, "some salad dressing as a binder," and some kind of onions "if you want." Some pickle relish, salt, pepper, and a little paprika. Garnish with slices of hard-boiled egg and radish.