The potatoes, for some reason of their own, kept slipping out of my hand, flying across the counter. Being left handed, I have an odd way of peeling - more scraping away from my hand, but the one, more serious cut, was toward me, a nice long slice with a deep hole. The other was at the tip, can't figure out how I did it. Needless to say, we did not have latkes last night. My darling husband did what all good Jews do when their wives can't cook - he went for Chinese take-out. Ah, you may ask, didn't you go out for Chinese the night before? Yes, indeed we did - we love Chinese food. I will leave you with this little joke, a favorite of ours:
A Chinese man and a Jewish man are sitting and chatting. The Chinese man makes the statement that his culture has existed for five thousand years. The Jewish man says, well, the Jewish culture has existed for six thousand years. The Chinese man ponders this for a moment and then says, "So, what did you guys eat for a thousand years?"
And that my friends is the end of my story. Tonight, latkes, grated in the food processor. I'll just leave it at that and make no promises about anything!
A photo of the victim, culprit and supporting cast!