Potato Salad Days

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My favorite, favorite wine is a Sauvignon Blanc out of New Zealand under the White Haven label. I have a longtime friend who lives with his family in New Zealand right now, and despite the distance between us, he’s well aware that this wine is my go to, because I’ve sent him pictures from locations equally exotic like Orange Beach, Alabama that look like this:

59296367242__41499502-FAAC-47D1-8799-9597DA4D74DA

In return, when he and his family went on a trip made up exclusively of locations where he could indulge in some day drinking he sent me a picture like this:

WhitehavenGlass

How completely thoughtful is that?

Might it have been more thoughtful had he not added the comment, “They say it tastes better here” and instead asked his hosts to send me a case of same said wine from the winery while he was there? Perhaps. But it’s the thought the counts, right? He is very thoughtful, this guy. He’s a friend from my salad days when we were both oh so young and thought we were oh so grown up. And I love that we’re friends still.

I re-read a book recently and these words spoke again to me:

Anything I've lost

The author was referring to Aparigraha, or non-attachment, which is the last Yama in the Patanjali’s Eight Limbs of Yoga. In this strange world we live in today, never has this principle resonated more. I don’t think I’m the only person who took this slower time, this quiet, to reflect on what I find to be most important to me. In the end, don’t those things and ideas that we’ve clung to so tightly also become like so much noise? Sometimes the things on which we place value are not things but people and relationships. I try to remember to hold loosely to those, not because they don’t mean something to me. At times they mean more than almost everything. No, I hold loosely because everything in life comes to us on loan.

Keys, money, pets, a broken vase, a loved one, an earring, one sock inexplicably lost in the dryer, a job, a good friend, my mind, a band of gold, a memory, naïveté, a car in the mall parking lot in December, 457 pounds (cumulatively), a bad habit, an identity, a plan, a hat, my heart.

Here’s what I’ve found to be true: Each time I’ve lost something, I’ve gained something, too. 

I lost my grandmother not too long ago, and when I came across an article written by a woman who claimed her grandmother had the best potato salad recipe ever. I thought to myself, challenge accepted, which made me realize that what I gained from that loss is a fiercely competitive streak. You’d understand had you ever had the pleasure of meeting my grandmother.

My apologies for not having the link to this other woman’s potato salad recipe for comparison’s sake, not that you’ll need it, but I submit to you MY grandmother’s potato salad recipe. It’s New York-style and it is so stinking good that it doubles as her macaroni salad recipe. So efficient that woman. And it’s so delish, so simple, so very minimalist. This is the perfect season for a potato salad, so go give it a whirl. Report back how much you love it, too.

Grandma’s BEST Potato Salad

6 potatoes, large (not Idaho)
1 C Hellman’s Real Mayonnaise
1/4 C vinegar plus 1/4 Cup water
1/4 C chopped onions
1/2 C chopped celery
1 tsp salt
1/2 tsp pepper
pinch garlic powder

BOIL potatoes in skins until tender.

POUR off water and let potatoes cool and dry in their skins.

PEEL and slice into mixture of other ingredients, tossing occasionally as you add the slices. If too dry, add lemon and water (half and half), one tablespoon at a time.

CHILL before serving.

Variations: Decorate with fresh or chopped parsley or make it vegan by subbing in your favorite vegan mayo. If you’d like to try out Grandma’s BEST Macaroni Salad, just sub in your favorite elbow macaroni for the potatoes. So, so good!!!

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