I don't know beans about what makes a seed potato. Last spring I was gifted with a generous handful of them. When I went to purchase more at my local farm store, I was curious about what process was used to create a "seed" potato. The fellow who helped my was more in the dark than I. I went away wondering if it was all just a hoax. If any of you readers want to comment with enlightening information on this subject, I'll certainly read it.
My technique for creating seed potatoes is to gather whatever is in the vegetable bin that has sprouted and plant it. I've read that that doesn't work--that once it has long, white tendril sprouts, it won't grow a potato. Maybe for others it doesn't. But my mother, grandmother and great-grandmother did it. So I wasn't shy about telling my daughter last summer that she could plant those ugly, sprouted knobs and something would come of it. We tilled up a nice chunk of her lawn, piled on the compost she had been cooking for a year and mixed it in. Even with only first-time-potato-planting skills, she looked like a pro.
|Part of the harvest|
A crisp, fall day was the moment when the mystery of the earth would be revealed. Digging potatoes is a treasure hunt and magic show all wrapped into one. Putting ones shovel into the earth and exposing shiny, ruby-colored food is definitely magic. I heard by phone it was a great show.