In Anne Tyler’s book Accidental Tourist, there’s a scene where three people live in the same house, one sister and two brothers. They’re at the table eating baked potatoes for supper, prepared to precise perfection, the way they enjoyed them during their shared childhood. (I think it was with salt, and a pat of butter, if I remember correctly.) Though a little ornery, they are healthy, fairly functional people. They survive just fine eating baked potatoes for supper.

Sometimes I eat mashed potatoes for supper, with salt and margarine. If I’m feeling energetic, maybe hash browns with onion and ketchup.