notably not

In trying to decide what to write about this week, I had narrowed my selection down to two choices. Then I remembered that today would be the day after Passover started, and my choice seemed pretty clear.

Now, I am notably not Jewish, though I wanted to be as a little girl. My parents had bought me - and ostensibly my brother, I suppose - a children's encyclopedia set, and one of my favorite activities was reading about different religions. (Yeah, in retrospect that major in religious studies seems like a given, even if it was kind of a surprise at the time.) I don't know exactly what about Judaism appealed to my elementary school self, but boy did it. Rosh Hashanah coincided with my birthday when I was maybe ten, and I was so excited I decided to fast. It lasted until lunchtime, I think.

The religion still maintains a little of that charm for me. Seder, for instance, is pretty much the best in my opinion. And since I don't have one to go to this year, I had to improvise.


I realize that latkes - or potato pancakes - are usually more Hanukkah food than Passover, but, um, I love them so much. (This should be no surprise, after my valentine to potatoes.) After all, what is better than starch, salt, and oil? Not much, I'd wager.

These were one of my first food ambitions; I had latkes two Hanukkahs ago and needed more of them in my life. Why it took me so long to get around to making them I'm not sure. I already want to make them again. (Well, except for the fact that my apartment still smells like fried potatoes and oil. It's...well, it's not the best.)


I wish I had a better picture of the finished product for you. I may have been able to take a better one, if I hadn't kept eating the latkes right off the paper towels. They are so good. So. Good.

Latkes (Potato Pancakes)

2 potatoes
1/4 c. yellow onion
1/2 tsp black pepper
1 tsp kosher salt
1 egg

Peel and grate the potatoes, making sure that you get medium-to-large shreds. Place gratings in a bowl lined with paper towels to start draining. You'll want to continue to wring out the potatoes until they are as dry as you can get them.

When dry, place the potatoes in a large bowl. Add finely chopped onions, salt, and pepper - mix, using your hands if you like. (It's kind of fun, albeit a little messier.) Then add the egg, stirring to combine.

Coat a frying pan with oil and let it heat up a little. This part is a little tricky if you're not careful, because you don't want to splatter hot oil on yourself. Spoon about a tablespoon of the batter into the pan and flatten into a little pancake. Repeat the process to fill up your pan. Fry for about five minutes on each side, until brown.

Serve hot, traditionally with sour cream or applesauce. Makes about 8.

head-over-heels

Have I ever mentioned my deep and abiding love? ...Don't worry, I'm not about to trick you into reading some soppy Valentine's story about true love or anything like that. Not for a person, at least - this deep and abiding love is for the potato. Now, granted, I can trace my roots clear back to Ireland, so a love for potatoes is basically genetically guaranteed, but still.

Let it be said: I am head-over-heels for potatoes.

When I was younger, my favorite way to eat them was either mashed or baked and slathered with butter and ranch dressing. (Though the latter did not come about until I was in high school; potato skins weirded me out before then. I know I've mentioned I was a picky eater. It knew no bounds.) And, of course, French fries.


There was a point in my tenure at high school when my mother would pick me up from school every day, we would go through the drive-thru at McDonald's, and I would get fries. I would empty them into the bag, sprinkle them with more salt, and eat them from the bag. There is something about the specific combination of starch, grease, and salt that is absolutely irresistable. I remember one of the only cravings I got while I was abroad was for fries - though it wound up being sated later at a McDonald's near the train terminal in Rome. (The other was, unsurprisingly, cinnamon rolls.)

I won't get into any of the arguments against McDonald's - you've heard them all before, at this point, I'm sure - but part of the reason they have such wild success is that they hit on that key combination. I've since stopped eating at McDonald's, but even now I will still get wild cravings for French fries that are, for the most part, unable to be filled. Sure, every so often I will get them at a bar, but it's not like I am able (or willing) to go to a bar every time I want French fries.


So it's a good thing they're super-easy to make. I may have eaten about three-potatoes-worth of French fries over the weekend. They're also delicious.

French Fries
adapted from The Naptime Chef

I split up the fries and did three different toppings - cayenne pepper, shredded cheddar, and grated parmesan. They were all super-delicious, though I think I prefer the ones with cheese. I guess I'll have to keep experimenting. Darn.

2 potatoes
3 tbsp olive oil
1 1/2 tbsp kosher salt
(a couple dashes cayenne pepper)
(cheddar cheese, shredded)
(grated parmesan cheese)

Make sure the potatoes are clean. Slice down the longest side of each potato, about as thick as you want your fries to be. (These are best a little thicker, though, to be honest.) Cut each slice along the longest side again to make the fries.

Preheat the oven to 400°F.

Place the strips in a pot full of water and bring to a boil. Cook for about 10 minutes; they should be tender. While the potatoes are boiling, pour the olive oil and salt into a bowl. Line a baking sheet with tin foil. When the potatoes are done, drain and pat dry with a paper towel. Toss them in with the oil and salt until covered.

Line the fries on the baking sheet. If there's any leftover oil in the bowl, pour that over the potatoes. If you're adding cayenne, go ahead and sprinkle some over the fries.

Bake for 40 minutes. If you're adding cheese, pull out the fries and sprinkle the cheese on them, then bake for another 5 minutes. These are best hot-out-of-the-oven. Enjoy!

returned

Well, dear reader, I am back.

I'm not sure I would even be back now if not for my dear friend Daniel, who said to me last week, "Let's make dinner together sometime this weekend!" So we tossed around a couple ideas, like pasta with pesto and sun-dried tomatoes, except I dismissed it as not quite complicated enough. I know, I know, I haven't cooked anything more complicated than boxed macaroni in the past two weeks, and I'm complaining that making pesto isn't complicated enough. Humans are funny creatures, what can I say?


We decided on Alex and Lindsey's honey broasted tofu, with red bell pepper and onion. You should probably go make this meal right now, actually, because it is that good. We pretty much followed the recipe there, except we let it marinate for a little bit while the potatoes were baking (and we used white wine instead of sherry). And the potatoes are actually what I'm here to tell you about, but I really can't pass up an opportunity to talk about how good that tofu was. It was amazing. I was tempted to go back for thirds, which never happens.


So, anyway, the potatoes. Daniel, you may remember, was one of the reasons I even started experimenting in cooking, and has himself been cooking for quite some time now. This is pretty beneficial to me, as I get to eat a lot of this food, but it also means he's really into experimenting with different combinations of food. And so, without further ado...


Daniel's Identity Crisis Potatoes

These came entirely from Daniel's brain box, though let me tell you, the name seems pretty fitting for my mental state the past few weeks. But that's neither here nor there. These potatoes are fairly simple to make, and maybe the most delicious way to eat potatoes I've tried yet.

1 Russet potato
1 sweet potato
brown sugar
garlic
parmesan cheese
butter
olive oil

Preheat oven to 350°F.

Roll the Russet potato in olive oil and salt, and the sweet potato in olive oil and brown sugar. Bake for about an hour and fifteen minutes, or until the skins start to be crispy* and a fork passes through cleanly. Take them out of the oven and turn the heat up to 450°F.

Scoop out the insides of each potato into separate bowls, leaving the skins as intact as possible. Mash the Russet potato with garlic, parmesan, and butter (to your taste), and the sweet potato with butter and brown sugar (again, to your taste). Here is where the "identity crisis" part of these potatoes comes in: scoop the Russet potato mash into the sweet potato skin, and the sweet potato mash into the Russet skin. I know, it sounds crazy.

Put the potatoes back in the oven for about twenty minutes. Serve!

* Daniel tells me the sweet potato skin was not as crispy as he would have liked, but I can assure you this does not affect how delicious it was.