The Enemy in the Kitchen

Don't be fooled by the attractive handle

There's so much fuss about politics. The TV reports are ridiculously repetitious and hardly fair and balanced. My AM radio got so heated with hateful talk show language it popped out of the dashboard and landed on the floor of my truck.
Don't try looking for a house to buy. You can't see past the political lawn signs! I know a guy who was squinting to find a For Sale sign on a lawn, and  drove his car right into a living room. The homeowner made him a great deal on the place.
The noisiest political protesters like to scare people. They warn of terrorists sharing your closet with the Boogie Man and the danger of outsourcing our jobs and the worst of all, raising anyone's taxes. How dare they? We need that money for a new TV. We still have one room in the house without one.
I see a different threat. There is something lurking out there that could bring down our whole society. It is so insidious, so innocent in appearance, that even our best security screenings cannot detect it. The thing of which I speak is THE CHINESE POTATO PEELER.
Please understand, I have no beef with the Chinese potato. I'm sure they're delicious, although I don't recall seeing one at the Chinese Buffet. No, I speak of the Chinese potato peeler, made to look exactly like the American one your mother used in 1977, but even more alluringly accented with a bright red handle. This peeler is nicely packaged and sold at my favorite boutique, the dollar store. I had to get a new peeler because my stupid cousin Connie threw my really good one in the garbage. She thought it was a hair curler. Does that tell you anything about Connie's cooking?
One look at the photo will tell you what happened to my Chinese potato peeler. Right smack-dab in the middle of an Idaho beauty it snapped in two. All the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't have fixed it. Neither could they peel the seven fully dressed potatoes I had left to peel. The only tool I could find was a paring knife, and spent the next 34 minutes de-skinning my spuds like they did on the wagon trains crossing the country.
My Potatoes Au Gratin had so much skin left it looked like someone with dirty combat boots had been walking in them. That would be the end of the story, except I noticed some leftover broccoli in the fridge, and tossed it on top of the Au Gratin before baking. If you're having any democrats over for dinner, I can tell you how to make BLUE Potatoes Au Gratin.