Not the potatoes. Not the salt, black pepper, vinegar or olive oil.
No. I grew the red cayenne pepper and a few thyme leaves. I didn't really even grow the thyme leaves; I just transplanted the source into dirt on my patio. It's mine, OK?
What a lousy harvest this year. We had a terribly late start to any kind of sun. It's reliably sunny now, but there's not a lot of food coming in from the backyard. One cucumber. Three tomatoes. That cayenne pepper.
Some plants are stunted and confused; the pattypan squash is producing only male blossoms, and is only six inches tall. The tomatillo is covered with blossoms, but I'm having a hard time detecting any other development.
Anyway. Not really complaining. I knew it was going to be weird this year.
I saw that red cayenne, and decided to honor it, to showcase it. I made it the centerpiece of a potato salad (not counting the potatoes). I wanted it to be a wicked, dark, Transylvanian potato salad, so I left out Hello Kitty Hard-Cooked Eggs and Flopsy Bunny Mayonnaise.
Therefore: excellent oil and vinegar, large clods of cracked black pepper, minced cayenne and thyme leaves. Topped with flakes of Maldon salt.
I guess that sounds ordinary, but it was evil and nasty and fantastic, just the way I wanted it.