Kickin' it back to my roots

I made this weird potato pancake-like thing that Tom loves for dinner tonight. It's shredded potatoes, flour, salt and pepper, stirred into a paste and fried to a crisp in a pan of canola oil. Basically, the anti-Atkins meal. I always feel like I'm channeling my Irish ancestors when I eat that starchy goodness. I swear, I practically speak with my great-great-grandmother's brogue as I fry up all those glorious potatoes with salt and pepper, the only seasonings in an Irish spice rack. We'll see how many pimples I have tomorrow after spending an hour over all that grease tonight. Ugh, my tummy doesn't feel so great...