Irish Potatoes Candy

Cold snap by SD standards — fifty-two overnight. Caleb had baseball practice Tuesday and Thursday. I drove.

Caleb, 8, wants to be a firefighter still. Has not deviated. Hazel, 4, chaos incarnate. Put a peanut butter sandwich in the DVD player Wednesday. Showed zero remorse.

Shepherd's pie Sunday. Ground beef and frozen peas and instant mashed potatoes because I am a woman who knows her limits.

The freezer is the secret. The freezer was full this week.

I made a casserole for a neighbor whose husband is deployed. I dropped it off. She cried. I told her, eat the casserole, baby. The food is the saying. The casserole was a mostly-frozen tater-tot situation that took fifteen minutes of effort and six months of practice to perfect.

Caleb watched the firefighters at a school visit Wednesday and came home buzzing. He is going to be one. I have known this since he was four. Some kids tell you who they are early.

Ryan went to his counselor Wednesday. He always comes home calmer. I am calm too, just from him being calm. The man Torres was killed with — Ryan calls his wife twice a year on Torres's birthday and the anniversary. The military widows are their own community.

I went to the commissary Saturday morning. Got the grocery haul under sixty bucks for the week, which is a small victory. The cashier knows me. We talked about her grandkids while she scanned the chicken thighs and the family-size box of pasta. Small-town energy on a Marine base in California.

The PCS rumors are starting again. The official orders will come in a few months. We could move. We could stay. The waiting is the worst part. Three years here and I have learned to not put down deep roots in any military town. Nineteen-year-old me would not have believed how good I have gotten at packing.

The military spouses' Facebook group had a small drama this week. Two women fighting over the playgroup schedule. I muted notifications and cooked dinner. Some weeks the group is the lifeline. Some weeks it is the source of unnecessary stress. The skill is knowing which week you're in.

Wednesday morning meal prep — Sunday afternoon, hours of containers. The freezer is full. The future-me thanks present-me. Donna taught me this routine. Donna's freezer was always full. Donna saved her sanity with quart bags labeled in Sharpie.

I went for a walk Sunday morning before the kids got up. Half an hour. The fog was burning off. I needed it. Some weeks I get the walk in. Some weeks I don't. The week tells me which.

The Friday before-school morning was chaos. Three kids, two backpacks, one missing shoe. We all made it to the bus. I drank cold coffee at nine AM because that's when I sat down. Standard.

Base housing is base housing. Beige walls, beige carpet, beige expectations. The dryer venting is in a stupid place. The kitchen has no dishwasher. We make it work.

Hazel and I had a hard moment Tuesday at homework time. She is in a season of testing limits. We worked through it. We always do. She is mine.

I unpacked another box from storage Tuesday afternoon. Three years on this base and I am still finding things I packed in Twentynine Palms. Military-wife archeology — every box is a layer of geological history. I found a ceramic dish from Lejeune still wrapped in newspaper from 2020.

Donna sent a recipe card in the mail this week. She has been doing this for years. The recipes go in the binder. The binder is full. The newest one is for a green bean casserole that uses fresh green beans and fried shallots and which I will absolutely make for the next holiday.

Shepherd’s pie Sunday with instant mashed potatoes felt exactly right — and once the casserole was dropped off next door and the freezer was restocked, I still had that potato theme stuck in my head in the best possible way. These Irish Potatoes Candy showed up in my recipe binder years ago (thanks, Donna — obviously), and they are the kind of thing you make when you want something sweet that requires almost zero effort and uses things you already have. No oven, no dishwasher required, which is good because we don’t have one.

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 0 min | Total Time: 20 min + 1 hr chilling | Servings: 40 pieces

Ingredients

4 oz cream cheese, softened
1/4 cup unsalted butter, softened
1 tsp vanilla extract
4 cups powdered sugar, sifted
2 1/2 cups sweetened shredded coconut
2 tsp ground cinnamon (for rolling)

Instructions

Cream the base. In a large bowl, beat the softened cream cheese and butter together until smooth and fluffy, about 2 minutes.
Add vanilla and sugar. Mix in the vanilla extract, then gradually add the powdered sugar one cup at a time, beating until fully combined and a thick dough forms.
Fold in coconut. Stir in the shredded coconut until evenly distributed throughout the dough. The mixture will be thick and slightly sticky.
Chill the dough. Cover the bowl and refrigerate for 30 minutes so the dough firms up and is easier to handle.
Shape the potatoes. Spread the cinnamon on a small plate. Scoop out about 1 tablespoon of dough and roll it between your palms into a small oval or rounded oblong shape — like a little potato.
Roll in cinnamon. Roll each piece in the ground cinnamon until coated on all sides, then set on a parchment-lined baking sheet or plate.
Final chill. Refrigerate the finished candies for at least 30 minutes before serving. Store covered in the refrigerator for up to one week.

Nutrition (per serving)

Irish Potatoes Candy — The Sweet Side of a Shepherd’s Pie Kind of Week