When I was a kid I recall going out to my friends Dacha with my drunken uncles. Potato cooking seemed so simple then. First you get properly pissed then you wrap the spuds in tinfoil and toss them in a fire by the river.
Gone are those halcyon days of gilded simplicity… as is my memory of how to cook a potato… so I did a search for it.
Apparently they explode…
Glorious Glory in a Glorious Land of Glory Which is Glorious – Not The Politburo
That my decadent western friends is the 1337 hacker’s version of a summer cottage. I remember launching my first DOS attack from the turnip patch. Off to do some squats….
I nicked that photo from here: http://holesinmysoles.blogspot.com/2011/03/travel-photo-thursday-mar-31st-dacha.html