The warehouse was easily the size of an airplane hangar, and there in the middle of it rose a dusty brown pyramid of Russet Burbank potatoes as big as, well, one of the pyramids. It was a most impressive pile of potatoes. When I asked the farmer why he stored his potatoes here rather than take them directly to market, he explained that, at harvest, the spuds are so full of systemic pesticides that they can’t be eaten right away. You have to wait six weeks for them to off-gas all the chemicals. Sort of like a new carpet. Only then can they be safely turned into French fries.
