Beneath the lighthearted teasing about “real” versus “fake” mashed potatoes, there’s a deeper question: what does cooking mean in a life that’s already overflowing? Fresh potatoes can feel like a love letter to tradition—time, care, and a texture that’s almost impossible to fake. Instant potatoes, meanwhile, can feel like a quiet act of self-preservation, a way to put something warm and comforting on the table when you’re running on fumes.
The truth is, this isn’t a moral test. It’s a spectrum. Some people reserve fresh mash for holidays and lean on instant for busy nights. Others doctor up instant with butter, cream, roasted garlic, or even a few boiled potatoes mixed in, blurring the line entirely. What matters most isn’t whether the potatoes came from a sack or a box, but whether the people eating them feel nourished, seen, and together.
