Potato scoring method: When I was a little girl I LOVED MASHED POTATOES. Mom made them all rich and lumpy with lots of cream and butter. Sometimes the potatoes came from Grandma Lizzy’s cellar. It smelled musty and hosted its resident black snake, but that didn’t diminish the cellar’s importance.
The lumpiness of the potatoes—made possible from a hand potato masher–only added to the glorious mystique that accompanied the warm fuzzy feeling I got upon consuming. To me the lumps equaled little islands of satisfaction amidst a sea of potato goodness. Complete contentment.
So, intelligence reasons that FIVE POTATOES would represent near perfection in movies and books. Or close.