When I lived in San Francisco years ago, I would often cook dinner with a good friend of mine who was also my roommate’s girlfriend. On one occasion (or perhaps even several) we made some sort of stoner-like concoction of potato, beans, tomato and cheese that we dubbed “potato gnarl.” While tasty, filling, cheap and easy, it was not nice on the eyes and certainly nothing you’d prepare on purpose with any intent on serving anyone other than yourself, your child who didn’t know better or a pile of teenagers. And thus “gnarl” became any shapeless wad of ingredients, often … Continue reading →