As a child, it took me a while to realize that the “Arsh taters” often served at home were actually called Irish potatoes.

They are not really Irish at all.

Originating in South America, they were taken back to Europe as an easy-to-grow food source. Ireland, having a climate favorable to these tubers, grew to depend upon them.

The dependence proved a bit too much, as the Great Famine taught us.

By 1800, the potato was the most important food in Ireland. When the potato blight struck, blackening plants overnight, famine ensued. A million died, and two million emigrated.

Countless Americans owe to this blight our Irish roots.

In its native Peru, it has been a staple crop for 8,000 years, and an astounding 4,000 varieties are still grown there. “The time it takes to cook a potato” was a standard measure of Peruvian time.

Initially, Spanish colonists were suspicious of its misshapen underground tubers because they were ever fearful of anything associated with the devil. Their suspicions were confirmed when Bauhin, a Swiss botanist, classed it with the Solanaceae family, which includes deadly nightshade, henbane and tobacco. These had long been associated with poisons, narcotics and magic.

Its reputation was somewhat rescued in 1710 by William Salmon, who claimed it could “ … increase seed and provoke lust, causing fruitfulness in both sexes.” Because of this unfounded claim, a pound of potatoes once fetched 300 British pounds sterling as an aphrodisiac.

This claim joined others: a peeled potato in the pocket cured toothache; a dried potato pendant cured rheumatism; and potato juice made warts disappear.

Legend has it that when Sir Walter Raleigh presented some to Elizabeth I, her cook threw away the tubers and cooked the tops.

In America, they gained popularity after Thomas Jefferson went to France and learned to love their cooking, especially “pommes frites.” He even served them at White House dinners.

Our national love affair with the French fry had begun.

The potato chip was invented by George Crum in 1853, when a diner in his restaurant sent back the fried potatoes because they weren’t crunchy enough.

“I’ll show him,” Crum thought.

In the Ozarks, the 100th day of the year is the right one to plant.

In Devon, England:

“When you hear the cuckoo shout,

‘Tis time to plant your tatties out.”

In Ireland, the perfect planting day belongs to St. Patrick. Planting potatoes on Good Friday with sprouts facing the rising sun hedged bets between Christianity and Paganism.

The humble potato – Irish-American, like so many of us.

– A reference librarian, Lisa Karen Miller has been gardening and researching plant lore for many years. Have plant lore to share? Email lisalisa13131313@gmail.com.