“These are really good” I said, politely after I had finished crunching on an under-cooked, over-salted potato. “Would love to get the recipe.”
“I don’t share my recipes” said the family member. “I consider them family secrets.”
I stopped, the next slice of potato half-way to my mouth. “Really? Boiled red potatoes, dried thyme, several pats of butter. Some salt. Anything I’m missing?”
The family relation sat there quietly, visibly upset that I had spilled their secret boiled potato recipe to the rest of the family members (all family members) gathered around the table.
I am not known for my diplomacy when it comes to family members, determining a recipe, or fools.