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Years ago, one of you was aghast that I didn't have a store of pasta in the house for emergency dinners. This may explain why:

I come solidly from Potato Europe on both sides. Pasta is not a default. (I don't even like pasta that much.) Give me a potato, and I can produce dinner, give me pasta and I just go "meh."

I come solidly from Potato Europe on both sides. Pasta is not a default. (I don't even like pasta that much.) Give me a potato, and I can produce dinner, give me pasta and I just go "meh."

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As a kid my mom and I ate mostly TV dinners, so I don't have a strong "this was our go-to quick meal" association with pasta, potatoes, or rice. (Though if you count instant food, I ate more mac and cheese and chef boyardee than potatoes for sure...)
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I'll take your share of the pasta. You can have my share of the potatoes.
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I had a college friend whose family was Russian on one side and Italian on the other. Her immediate family's test for boyfriends brought home for the first time was to serve spaghetti and see if the guy ate it without a mess. If he didn't, he was not approved.
(I think the test turned out to be: do you care enough about the guy to teach him to eat spaghetti non-messily before you bring him home.)
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And for the rest of his life he was served potatoes with spaghetti.
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When I was a kid, one of my friends was a girl whose mother was Lao. She made sticky rice every morning and served it with every meal. I have memories of sitting around the table eating corn dogs and sticky rice, and Mom and I now joke that it's the only appropriate side for corn dogs.
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no really that's a thing, it's yummy
(My kitchen is a Japanese-Italian mix, which doesn't so much figure into this, but my red sauce does have mirin and shichimichi...)
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