Po-tay-to, Po-tah-to

It gives my friend Reed a certain perverse pleasure to see her name in print on this page, and since I love and hate her as dearly as I love and hate myself, I afford her that luxury probably more often than is healthy. For truly, the self-indulgence of an internet soapbox does have its perks.

(I am convinced that blogging is a phenomenon that has arisen in equal parts due to our generation’s unshakeable conviction that we each have something that the world should listen to, and a corresponding waning inclination to listen to what others have to say. I mean, I only started this blog because my friends wouldn’t read my emails to them.)

But I digress. What I meant to say was, Reed visited me in the nation’s capital a while back and among the other dining establishments we went to was a brunch place on the U Street Corridor called Crème. I will write about this place some day, but what I like about it is first, that it serves the Velvet Swing – in my opinion the best Sunday morning hair-of-the-dog Champagne cocktail but one that precious few bartenders know how to make – and second, that it serves fried chicken for brunch. On top of waffles. Genius – pure, unadulterated genius.

So anyway that in turn got me thinking about dishes that I would serve or eat at any given time in the day; and the one thing I realised after way too much time and effort spent ruminating is that anytime, anywhere, you can always serve potatoes lyonnaise. What I mean to say is that I don’t think this humble (side)dish gets the credit it deserves. It is easy to make and such a great foil for everything: so comforting in its rustic charm, so understated and yet so, so satisfying. Here is how I make it.

Chez 1734 Potatoes Lyonnaise
(I usually make a potato per person, this serving is for 2)

2 large potatoes, cut into bite-sized chunks
1 large onion, coarsely chopped
2 cloves garlic, finely chopped
crumbled thyme
healthy dash of paprika
dash of cayenne
dash of Old Bay
considered splash of chicken stock
large knob of butter
s/p

Preheat oven to 350F. In an ovenproof skillet, melt half the butter and then add garlic and onions. Season with thyme and cook on medium heat till onions begin to caramelize, about 8-10 minutes. One of the first things I learnt in my culinary education - which I accredit to Morgan and has stayed with me ever since - is how goddamn amazing onions and thyme smell when cooked together. I make it a point to always lean into the skillet, close my eyes, and inhale slowly.

Add potato chunks and the rest of the butter, then salt and pepper the mixture HEAVILY. The greatest crime ever visited on the humble potato is under-salting; the second greatest – Dan Quayle’s gross misspelling of the word itself. Season the potatoes with the paprika, cayenne and Old Bay and sauté until the potato chunks start to turn golden brown on the edges, again about 8-10 minutes. Add the chicken stock, combine, and then move the skillet to the oven. Cook at 350F for 30 minutes or until potatoes are at desired consistency – I personally like them to keep their shape but break apart into a mushy mess at the slight touch of a fork.

The best part? In the 30 minutes that you are waiting for this to cook, you have all the time in the world to make a main dish. I made this for dinner the other night and had it with steak nue, which is what I like to call steak grilled without any adornment, just salted and peppered at the dining table. I wanted to open a bottle of wine but Clayton said he would not drink any and it was the worst news I had heard all day.