August 20th, 2012
08:00 AM ET
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World-renowned chef, author and Emmy winning television personality Anthony Bourdain visits Colombia in the next episode of "Anthony Bourdain: Parts Unknown," airing Sunday, April 28, at 9 p.m. ET. Follow the show on Twitter and Facebook.

In the days counting down to my trip to Colombia, I daydreamed about the culinary delights to come. It was my first time traveling to South America and nothing excited me more than the food: exotic fruits fresh off the tree, full-bodied coffee from the richest beans in the world, and succulent steaks in a country known for its beef production.

I traveled with my boyfriend, who was born in Pereira, one of the three main cities making up Colombia’s “coffee axis.” I begged him to give me an idea of what to expect on my plate. In the past, he had regaled me with stories of eating cow’s tongue for Christmas dinner and drinking juice from tropical citrus fruits whose names I could hardly pronounce. What foods would I be bragging about when I arrived back home to the States?

“Well,” he said, thinking a moment. He shrugged. “Colombia is pretty famous for its potatoes.”

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Filed under: Colombian • Content Partner • Cuisines • Food Holidays • Make • Parts Unknown • Potatoes • Recipes • South American • Vegetables

Notes from Zone 6b - Tubers on the roof
June 22nd, 2011
10:00 AM ET
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Eatocracy's Managing Editor Kat Kinsman attempts to vegetable garden on a roof deck in Brooklyn, NY in USDA Hardiness Zone 6b. Feel free to taunt, advise or encourage her efforts as this series progresses.

This may seem like small potatoes to you, but I managed to grow some spuds on my own at home. On a roof deck. In Brooklyn.

I know I shouldn't be admitting this in public, but I'd honestly had no idea how potatoes...happen. Sure, I'd seen seed potatoes at the garden center and had a vague memory of an elementary school project involving sprouting eyes. I pieced together that they need the soil scrubbed from their skin, and that there's some sort of blight-prone leaf, but the mechanics of tater gestation had somehow escaped me.

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