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What Type Of Potatoes Make The Best Mashed Potatoes

Alright, gather ‘round, carb enthusiasts and gravy lovers. Let’s tackle a question more divisive than pineapple on pizza: what potato makes the best mashed potatoes? I’ve spent years elbow-deep in starch, testing, mashing, and buttering my way to the truth. It’s a messy job, but someone’s got to do it.

The Great Potato Personality Test

Potatoes, like people, have distinct personalities. You cannot use just any spud and expect creamy, fluffy perfection. Using the wrong potato is like bringing a salad to a barbecue—technically food, but deeply disappointing.

Let’s start with the villain of our story: waxy potatoes. Think red bliss, fingerlings, or new potatoes. They’re firm, low in starch, and hold their shape like stubborn toddlers. Mash them, and you get a gluey, gummy paste that’s more sad wallpaper paste than side dish.

I once served such a disaster to my in-laws. My mother-in-law smiled and said, “Oh, look… rustic.” That’s code for “I think you used the wrong potato.” Learn from my shame.

The Hero: Russet Potatoes

For the fluffiest mashed potatoes on God’s green earth, you need a russet potato. These brown, dusty, vaguely alien-looking tubers are starch bombs. They have a high starch content and very little moisture. When you mash them, they absorb butter and cream like a fluffy, delicious sponge.

Fun fact: a russet potato is about 80% water and 20% solid, but that solid is almost entirely amylose and amylopectin, the starch twin team. When you cook them, the cell walls swell and separate easily. That’s why you get clouds, not glue.

I call russets the “golden retriever” of potatoes—eager to please, soft, and always up for a good cuddle with some warm cream. They’re the standard. The John Wick. The One.

But Wait, There’s a Contender

Don’t throw out the Yukon Gold just yet. These yellow-fleshed beauties are the compromise candidate in a divided world. Yukon Golds have medium starch and a naturally buttery flavor. They’re like the friend who gets along with everyone at the party.

The catch? They have a waxier texture than russets. If you overwork them, they go from “creamy” to “potato glue stick” faster than you can say “whoops.” But if you’re gentle, they produce a luxurious, silky mash that russets can’t match.

So here’s the real secret: use a 50/50 mix of russets and Yukon Golds. The russets bring the fluff; the Yukons bring the richness. It’s the potato equivalent of a superhero fusion dance. You get the cloud and the silk.

Absolute No-Gos: Red Potatoes and Fingerlings

I need to be blunt: don’t do it. I know they’re pretty. I know they’re trendy. But mashing a red potato is like trying to make a salad from a block of cheese. It’s just the wrong tool for the job. You’ll end up with a tough, waxy lump that repels butter like a waterproof jacket.

The BEST Mashed Potatoes Recipe (Creamy, Buttery + A Simple Umami Boost)The BEST Mashed Potatoes Recipe (Creamy, Buttery + A Simple Umami Boost)

If you see a recipe that says “use red potatoes for creamy mash,” that person is either a liar or works for Big Waxy Potato. Run away.

The Surprising Science of Starch

Here’s a wild fact: potatoes are technically modified stems, not roots. So when you mash them, you’re actually beating up a plant’s storage organ. That’s fine—it’s delicious. The starch inside is made up of two molecules: amylose and amylopectin. Russets have more amylose, which breaks down easily and absorbs liquid. Waxy potatoes have more amylopectin, which forms glue.

In other words: starch determines destiny. Choose wisely.

And never, ever use a food processor. That thing will turn your mashed potatoes into wallpaper paste in three seconds flat. I’ve seen it happen. I’ve cried over it. Use a potato masher, a ricer, or a fork if you’re emotionally stable. Whisks work too, but you’ll get a cardio workout.

The Final Verdict (And a Hot Take)

For the absolute best mashed potatoes, buy russets. Dry them out after boiling (steam them for a minute in the pot). Warm your cream and butter before adding—cold dairy is the enemy. Mash gently, and add salt like you mean it.

But if you want to flex at dinner parties, use Yukon Golds and finish with a splash of warmed buttermilk. The tang cuts through the richness and makes people ask, “Did you use something special?” You can smirk and say, “Just potatoes, darling.”

One last tip: never, ever peel the potatoes if you want a rustic, “I’m a farm-to-table influencer” vibe. But if you want smooth perfection, peel them like your grandmother would—with a sharp peeler and a judgmental look. Your guests will thank you.

Now go forth and mash. May your butter be melty, your lumps nonexistent, and your potato choices eternally wise. And if someone asks for red-skinned mash, just pretend you didn’t hear them.