Potayto, potahto

The salt-sea-air, the knights templar, the bay-windows-of-Valletta, winding rock walls, grass-trod-by every-colonizing-warfaring-power over centuries; was all this to taste in the Malta Potato? No, unfortunately. The potato was the juiciest I have ever cut into and was patterned – reminding me of white-on-white-silk fabric. Whether boiled in water on the stove top or roasted in the oven, the taste was a full-bodied potato with a crumbly texture. Likely a terrific candidate for mashed potatoes.