Hey Mr Katsu here’s a little poem for a Thanksgiving favorite!
Oh lonely potato you REALLY are so loved.
At holiday time, on a fork you are shoved.
You grow in the dirt with water and sun.
Then off to market stacked one-by-one.
The pile is high and shoppers soon circle in,
They pick, toss and grab you until none in the bin.
Baked, mashed or fried, all cooking ways to enjoy,
Thanks for your vitamins and delicious goodness, oh boy!