Potato Candy

Potato candy

I tasted potato candy for the first time last week at Watoga State Park, located in the mountains of Pocahontas County near Marlington, West Virginia. Before this trip, I never knew that this sweet confection even existed.

My Uncle Mike, Aunt Tawee, sister Mary, her family and I drove from Kansas City to Watoga for the Wagner family reunion. Mike and his siblings hail from Longacre, West Virginia, a small coal-mining town. This year, the reunion was held at a beautiful, peaceful state park where we saw black bear, deer and other wildlife, but that’s another story.

Shortly after we arrived at the park and unloaded, we made our way to a large cabin that served as the central gathering spot. I saw Wagner family members that I hadn’t visited in 20 years. Everyone exchanged greetings, hugs and handshakes. We dined on Al burgers. Again, that’s another story. Eventually, someone revealed that a stash of potato candy was in the refrigerator. I had no idea what this candy looked or tasted like. It sounded weird.

Potato candy is made from four ingredients: potato, peanut butter, confectioners sugar and, if desired, food coloring. I couldn’t find any source for the origin of this sweet, but it is found throughout the South, East Coast and even New England, derived most likely from West European recipes. It’s a handy way to use up leftover mashed potatoes.

 

Potato candy stash
Potato candy Mike stash

Potato candy Mike shares
Potato candy tastes sweet (not surprisingly) like fudge. Uncle Mike begrudgingly shared a piece with the rest of his immediate and extended family. I enjoyed a bite of one piece but stayed away from the rest of the batch. A few pieces would prompt instant diabetes or a sugar coma. This part of the country was the Land of Sweet Tea. Sugar is a staple ingredient and almost required ingredient in many recipes.

Uncle Mike did share the stash of potato candy throughout the week like a king passing out bags of gold. He hid the box deep in the crowded refrigerator to protect his stash. Of course, pieces went missing from time to time but it wasn’t me gobbling them.

Here’s a recipe for potato candy with vanilla extract added.

Grating Coconut for Sticky Rice Dessert

coconut 1

It’s been years since I used a Thai “rabbit” grater. I brought mine out storage to grate fresh coconut for a sticky rice dessert that I prepared for a four-course Thai meal at Julian in March.

The grater is referred to as “rabbit” because the elaborate versions of the tool were once carved into that animal’s shape. Today, the wooden stool with a serrated blade extending from the neck is still referred to as a rabbit (gkra-dtai in Thai). A rabbit image is embossed on the thin blade. 

 

rabbit 2

coconut 2

 

The dessert uses steamed sticky rice topped with a blend of sweet corn, sugar, salt, coconut juice and shredded coconut meat. Preparation involves rinsing the rice repeatedly to remove excess starch before steaming. I use a woven basket filled with a quantity of rice that is suspended over a pot of boiling water for about 20-30 minutes until the rice is done. Sticky rice differs from long-grain jasmine rice because it is glutinous (glue-like and sticky, not gluten) when cooked. Other types of rice cannot be substituted for sticky rice and achieve the same result.

The other time-consuming dessert preparation involves shredding fresh coconut. Thai chef Kasma Loha-unchit writes in great detail about shredding coconut using a rabbit. Here’s a quick primer.

First, purchase coconuts that feel heavier than others. A heavy coconut contains more meat and juice inside. You should be able to shake the coconut and hear juice sloshing inside. The shell should have no obvious exterior cracks.

coconut 7

coconut 6

 

Before opening the coconut, set out a large bowl or pot. Take the back of a heavy chef’s knife or kitchen mallet. Hold the coconut in the palm of your weaker hand and whack the shell several times with the back of the knife (carefully!) or mallet until the shell cracks. Pry the shell open and let the juice drain out. Continue to pry the shell apart until it splits. Reserve the juice.

Whenever my Mom split coconut in this fashion, my sister, brothers and I vied for a taste of the fresh juice. That intense pure flavor reminds me of childhood and Thailand. It was always disappointing when a rare coconut yield sour juice, indicating it was spoiled. After tasting the juice, Mom usually enlisted us to grate the coconut on the rabbit.

 

coconut 3

coconut 4

coconut 5

 

The method involves sitting down on the stool with legs straddled on both sides. Using one or both hands, you push the coconut’s interior against the serrated blade to grate the meat. The shredded coconut is captured on a plate or tray below. Ideally, you develop a rhythm as you steadily grind the meat, rotating the shell and as blade works it way down. You don’t want to grind all the way to the shell’s interior or you’ll grate hard bits of the brown shell into the meat. If you’re paying attention, you’ll notice if brown specks show up on the plate. Whenever we thought we were done, Mom would inspect the shell and point out that there was more to grate. After one half was complete, we grated the other half of the shell. As kids, it seemed like it took forever.

When I cracked the shell, drained the juice and grated a pair of coconuts, the entire process only took about 20 minutes. Out of practice, I found myself picking out tiny bits of brown shell from the white shredded coconut.

To finish the dessert, I strained the juice to remove any unwanted strands of husk and shell. I added a little bit of juice to the steamed rice for flavor. Too much juice only makes the rice mushy. I sprinkled a mixture of cooked, cooled corn kernels, shredded coconut, salt, and sugar over the rice. The only step left is to grab a spoon and dig in.