The seed packet said Vidalia Onions, but I think there was a mix up. Strangely enough, my potatoes also came out miniature. Honestly though, when I dumped out that 5 gallon bucket of wet soil, just the fact that potatoes ACTUALLY GREW was pretty darn satisfying. I think I ended up with over ten potatoes.... the biggest being about 3 inches long. Maybe it was two and a half. And the smallest... well, ahem... okay it was smaller than one of these onions. But I ate 'em anyway! Mashed 'em up for thanksgiving. These little onions, on the other hand, were harder to work with. Nevermind that they were barely biger than peas, I was going to eat what I grew! The first one I managed to cut the root end off, but when I went to peel it it turned out that after the papery skin there were only three layers. Total. Still, I cut it lengthwise, and proceeded to do the same with 5 more ( I harvested a good twenty onions!). I then sauteed up the lil things in some butter, tossed in an egg, and voila, tasty. I tell you they may have been small, but they were potent!
The rest, I'm ashamed to admit, became windowsill decoration. A few got carried off by Maggie, who found their long dried stringy leaves doubled well as dental floss. She would carry them around by the very end of the leaf, her head held as high as possible and her nose nose almost skyward. The onion dangling at the end would swing just above the ground, and she'd strut around like this until she found a nice spot to lay down and clean her teeth. Then she'd bat around the little rolly polly veggie. There were just two left on the windowsill when I was standing there chatting with my honey a few days ago. Feeling a little mischievous I picked one up and swung it around by it's tail, pretending I was gonna bonk someone on the noggin with it. Before it could even complete one swinging circuit, however, the delicate dried strand snapped and the baby onion went flying through the air like a comet, barely missing my honey's suddenly startled eyes. Two streaks of striped fur followed the accidental projectile to it's landing while I got taken with a fit of hyserical laughing.
"My whole onion flashed before my eye", he said, blinking his baby blues. If I could have caught my breath I might have told him good thing it wasn't a potato. So I guess they ought to mention on the seed packets; may be miniature version. And, caution: do not swing harvested product like a baton wielding parade prancing majorette. Or maybe just: Use eye protection when handling this product. You think?