There is a fabulous barbecue joint near our house that is one of the ways the Southern husband keeps his Southernness intact. They have every kind of barbecue that you can think of, but the Southern husband is a faithful guy, and he never deviates from his one order. To the point that when the waiter comes over and asks for his order, the Southern daughter and I say in unison with him, "burnt end sandwich with smashed and coleslaw!" And by smashed he means their scrumptious, slightly chunky, totally delicious version of mashed potatoes. So one day in an attempt to recreate them at home, I got me a bunch of small red-skinned potatoes and got to work.

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