Befand - Found

I was shocked and disturbed last week when I found a lump. In my mashed potatoes. As a guy, besides in porridge or on your balls, there are few worse places you can unexpectedly discover a lump. One on your head, for example, would be an expected consequence of nutting a brick wall or Mike Tyson. You’d know it‘s on its way. Similarly, it’d come as no surprise to find Jerry Lumpe in a collection of 1950’s New York Yankees baseball cards, or the best-of album Lump in amongst the illegal downloads of any true Presidents of the United States of America fan. However, testicular cancer is no joke, unless of course the afflicted ball belongs to comedian. In that case the tumour is born of laughing stock and so is inherently at least a little bit funny - funnier still (for cathartic reasons) if it belongs to Dane Cook or Adam Sandler. As for porridge: it simply shouldn’t be lumpy. It comes in the form of dry, separated oats that’ll smoothly bind together provided there’s adequate milk, it’s stirred once in a while and you’re not a complete cretin. Lumps are therefore most unexpected and most unpleasant.

Now, with mash you are in complete control. If you’re happy doing a half-arsed job, you can reasonably anticipate the odd or (even) frequent lumpy bit. I, however, spend an average of five to ten minutes decimating my potatoes, not before adding an abundance of milk and Olivio spread. (If you’re wondering, New Zealanders voted a resounding NO! in last year’s Olivio to Bertolli referendum. An important victory indeed for the Keep New Zealand A 90’s Great Britain party.) This combination creates the lushest, creamiest, (non-sexual) goop you’ll ever taste. In my mash I believed there was zero possibility of any chunky bits slipping through to the dinner plate. Until last week. After the initial panic, I had decided to just ignore it. Keep it a secret - what harm could such a small lump do? Fear for loss of mashing reputation clouded my judgement and brought about a full-blown denial. But luckily, and inexplicably (as I’m running out of time) after a few days I came to my senses and sought professional advice. Within minutes, the reanimated corpse of Keith Floyd had some good news. Being soft and squishy, the lump turned out to be benign - apparently it’s the hard (undercooked) ones that can cause the serious problems. Phew. Bottom line: always check your mash, and food-based cancer parodies aren’t funny.