One Potato, Two Potato
It’s Andy here today. Ann is spacing out over in OurLittleCorner .

The website Science recently posted an article about how scientists are exploring the viability of growing potatoes on the moon. The research is part of NASA’s long-range plan to establish a base on the moon for launching astronauts to Mars.
Why potatoes for our astronauts? They are calorie-dense and provide essential carbohydrates and nutrients. What particularly interested me was the claim that the versatility of potatoes may help prevent astronauts from getting “menu fatigue.” So rather than getting the same dish over and over on that long journey to Mars (which takes an estimated 6 to 9 months) astronauts plausibly can have their potatoes baked, boiled, mashed, smashed, hashed, roasted, scalloped, or fried.

While I am no expert on astronaut nutrition, I do know something about potatoes — I grew up with them. In the early 1950s my hometown Chino had fewer than 6,000 residents but about 4,000 acres of farmland devoted to potatoes. The Chino Champion, the local newspaper, reported that in 1951 a total of 1,434 rail cars full of potatoes were shipped from town.
I recall the corrugated metal “potato sheds” along the tracks which provided summer jobs for high-school-aged kids who would sort, wash, and bag potatoes for about a dollar an hour (which was big money in those days). Unfortunately, by the time I was old enough to take advantage of this potential financial windfall the potato industry was withering away, being replaced by a burgeoning dairy industry (which I wrote about in an earlier blog).

Even though I never got a job in a potato shed, I did get to accompany my mom to Dodge’s Grocery in downtown Chino where she would buy potatoes for the family. In those days grocers usually sold potatoes by the 10-pound bag. I don’t recall what we paid, but according to Infoplease.com the average price of a 10 pound bag of potatoes in 1950 was 46.1 cents. That sounds incredibly cheap — until you consider that one dollar in 1950 had the buying power of 13 dollars today, which means that a bag of potatoes cost the equivalent of about$5.85 (I figured this out using this handy inflation calculator).
The potatoes we brought home from the store were a mainstay for our evening meals. We truly were a meat and potatoes kind of family. Supper wasn’t supper if there were no potatoes on the table. And, with the exception of special occasions like holidays or birthdays, the potatoes always came to the table straight from our pressure cooker and were always peeled and quartered. Talk about menu fatigue.

Although I’m not sure if this counts as legitimate potato nostalgia, I have to mention something about the Mr. Potato Head toy I got for Christmas when I was a kid. For those not familiar with Mr. Potato Head, in 1952 Hasbro began marketing a toy kit consisting of plastic face and body parts with pushpins (including ears, eyes, shoes, hat, nose, mustache, and even a pipe) that could be pinned onto a potato. Wikipedia claims that a million of these kits were sold that first year, which was probably when I received mine. I got a kick out of creating all kinds of funny faces on our potatoes — that is, until my mom put the kibosh on “wasting” so many potatoes from our larder.

Mr. Potato Head enjoyed a resurgence of popularity in the 1990s after appearing as a main character in Disney’s animated feature filmToy Story (as well as in the four sequels to that movie). In the films Mr. Potato Head becomes friends with a fellow toy character named Buzz Lightyear — an astronaut or “Space Ranger.”

This got me to wondering if the NASA scientist who hatched the idea of raising potatoes for astronauts could have been a Toy Story fan as a kid. Although we will probably never know, I do know that if I were asked for my input on the potatoes-in-space program I would suggest that NASA astronauts be equipped with Mr. Potato Head kits. Then, if while on their 9-month journey to Mars the baked, boiled, mashed, smashed, hashed, roasted, scalloped, and fried options fail to stave off the dreaded “menu fatigue,” the astronauts could always make funny faces on the potatoes and let them float around in the gravity-free space craft. That would certainly bring a few laughs and raise morale.












