I have been to many a social gathering that has ended in the adult version of a loot bag. While I like receiving gifts as much as the next person, do I really need another salt-and-pepper shaker set? Not really.

This only makes my purple potato that much more special. Let me tell you a story.

A recent dinner outing with a group of some of the most lovely young ladies around ended when one of these young ladies handed out one purple potato to all of the other young ladies in the group.

This tremendous act of generosity was punctuated by the fact that said purple potatoes came from her own small stash of purple potatoes, taken from the contents of her weekly CSA box (how she came to have the contents of her CSA box whilst at dinner at a very posh Toronto restaurant is a story for another blog post …).

Needless to say it was a most enchanting end to a beautiful, late-summer dinner.

I was instantly smitten with my purple potato. I placed it carefully in my purse and cradled it all the way home.

In time, I came to love my purple potato deeply. I loved it’s deep purpliness. I marvelled at its smooth-yet textured exterior. I carefully explored the surface of my purple potato, memorizing every groove, every line and every mark.

After awhile, though, I began to experience some mild anxiety over my purple potato. I worried that we would be accidentally separated or worse, that my purple potato would be lost.

I fretted that someone might try to steal my purple potato. I became possessive; refusing to show my purple potato to anyone.

One day, in a grocery store, I became terrified that my purple potato would be taken from me. I worried that the store owners might think that I had stolen it. I calmed down when I realized that my purple potato was so unique that everyone would know that it had come from a special place where purple potatoes grace the land like stars in the sky (not the grocery store). The other potatoes in the grocery store hated my potato. I could tell (be jealous, bitches).

The defining moment in our relationship, however, came when I nearly dropped my purse. Realizing that my potato could have been irreparably bruised or even crushed, I knew that it was time for us to take the next step.

It was time for me to eat my purple potato.


After sharing one last quiet moment with my purple potato, I took out my mandoline (no regular knife would do) and transformed my love into a pile of beautiful purple potato slices.

I carefully transferred the slices to a pan of hot oil and fried them until crisp.

After draining the slices, I showered my purple potato with sea salt. I sat down to eat my purple potato with a bowl of garlic and basil yogurt (one of my favourite accompaniments). I used full-fat yogurt and basil from my garden. Only the best for my purple potato.


It was a bittersweet ending to my love story. While it ended the way it should, I do miss my purple potato.

My one and only.


Garlic and Basil Yogurt
Makes 1 cup

Note: This is perfect as a dip or even as a dressing for potato salads. It’ll keep in a sealed container in the refrigerator for several days.

1 cup plain yogurt
1/2 teaspon sea salt
1 garlic clove, minced
4 or 5 basil leaves, torn

Combine all the ingredients in a bowl and refrigerate until ready to use.