Mashed Potatoes Cartoon Novels & Stories

She couldn’t look at him, but she replied, “I used the potato masher. Mom tried to use the mixer, but I stopped her just in time.” Her heart fluttered when she saw his face split into a wide smile. “So you were listening. Excellent. I’m sure there’s not a lump to be found.” She blushed, then blushed harder because Jaime had said her mashed potatoes were lump-less and it was the best compliment she’d received in ages. “I have to get the rest of the food,” she mumbled as she scurried back into the kitchen. Jaime had been right: the mashed potatoes had no lumps to be found. Grace felt inordinately proud of that fact.

We worked for a couple minutes, with only the sound of Bonnie’s knife scraping against the plate and the disgusting plop of potatoes filling the silence. “So, Tierney.” I jumped, the spoon clattering to the counter. “Yes. Hi. Yes?” Bonnie’s pale brows lifted, judgment lighting her eyes. “Potatoes in the bowl, not on the counter,” she said, handing me a towel. “Sorry.” As I cleaned up the mess, I sent help me vibes to Jack, willing him to come to my rescue. No luck. “I remembered you don’t like mashed potatoes, so there are tater tots in the oven.”

I say, looking at the plate that has been adorned with steaks, creamy mashed potatoes, grilled vegetables with southern fried chicken served with buttery corn bread by the side. “It looks good” I compliment and the waitress grins and walks away “What are you waiting for? Dig in” Stewart says as he takes a spoonful of each ingredient on the plate and smiles with satisfaction. “Hmmm” I hum with utmost satisfaction after taking a bite off the plate too, “how could they have made mashed potatoes taste this good?” I ask after swallowing and taking a mouthful of food in. “You must really love mashed potatoes” “Of course I do” I say while eating and grinning from ear to ear

Realizing I forgot to flip the pork steaks, I grabbed a fork and turned them over. They looked a little charred, but they looked edible. Going back to my search in finding something to mash the potatoes with, I found what I was looking for. I didn’t know what it was called, but I remember watching Zach use it to mash potatoes in the past. As I was smashing the potatoes, I heard the green beans start to sizzle. Taking a spatula out of the drawer, I stirred the green beans up but saw that some of them were sticking to the bottom of the pan. Okay, maybe it was a little harder than I thought it was going to be.

“I knew it wouldn’t live up.” “She is wise,” Frankie murmurs, reaching for a the mashed potatoes. I smack his hand and he pulls it back with a dramatic hiss. “What!?” he asks, “is all the food just for show?”

I'm kind of exaggerated but who cares! Alex looked at me like I was a criminal; like it was a crime to hate marshmallows. “How… how… oh my God. How can you say marshmallows are disgusting? They’re divine…” Okay, this guy was just being dramatic. Did marshmallows save his life or something? I chuckled, amused that it was bothering him this much. "Okay, okay. I’ve heard you. Can we drop this and focus on what we’re here to do?" Alex furrowed his eyebrows and pouted like a kid who just got scolded by his mum. "I guess we can."

I remember I started a water fight, I got my a*s beat after that. A server came by and placed food before them. Jessie danced after seeing the garlic bread and stuffed baked potatoes with bacon, cheese, and green onions. Jessie reached for the plate of potatoes, but Christian gently pushed her hand away. "No, no, no. The potatoes are mine, the garlic bread is yours.'' Jessie pouted a little. "We can share.'' Jessie gave a laugh, does another little dance which caused Christian to smile. "So food makes the human happy, good to know.''

"What did you make?" Placing his hand on the middle of my back, he guides me to one of the chairs, pulling it out so I can sit. "Potato and mushroom Stroganoff." Inhaling the steam drifting off the food, I let out a gentle moan. "It smells amazing." Plucking up a fork, I stab one of the circular potatoes. It's clear he's made this dish before. The potato is thin enough that I can hold it to the light and see through its transparent surface. When I pop it into my mouth, chewing experimentally, a rush of flavor coats my tongue. It's mild but delicious; saltiness enhances the gentleness of the potatoes without overwhelming them. "Oh my God," I manage, before scooping up a bigger mouthful, wanti

And I hate it. “It smells amazing,” Carrot’s voice breaks through my reverie. She sits cross-legged on the floor near me, rocking slightly as she sniffs the air with a theatrical sigh. A smile touches my lips but it does not last. Still, Carrot beams anyway, satisfied with even that. My father leans over the pot, squinting. “Potatoes go in last,” he remakrs. “If you put them in too early, they get mushy.” Gimli glances at him sideways. “You say that every time. They still get mushy every time.”

"With that dreamy look on your face, I can tell it was indeed awesome. But aren't you going to give me the details? Like how it started, did it start from the parlor, and in no time you found yourself in the room? Did you—" "Mum, rest assured. I'm not giving you any details, you won't even be able to purge that out of me for all I know. Never." Marina chuckled checking the potatoes and they were already soft and ready to be mashed. "Can I ask what we're making with mashed potatoes and chicken?" Marina raised a brow. "Oh no, the potatoes are for a whole different dish." Her mum stated and stood up, grabbed a spoon, and checked if the potatoes were ready to be mashed just as Marina had said.