smitten kitchen

It wouldn’t be Hanukah if I didn’t refresh my favorite, dead-simple potato pancake recipe. But it wouldn’t make for a very interesting story if I told the same one every year; in fact, I think they get better with each try because I continue to tweak them ever so much.

This year, after finally making peace with my cast frying pan (coincidentally, over an “apple latke”) I cooked them in there, and will use no other pan for them as long as I live. It is a browning genius, and even small amounts of oil resulted in no sticking whatsoever. I also realized that I found them a bit on the salty side — something I noted last year and entirely forgot in the 12 months since — I hope to remember that next year.

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I don’t think I need to tell you that sometimes the tastiest food is not the prettiest. Take a real close look at meat sauce, or shiny, oily cheese draped over tuna or a ground up olive paste and you’ll know why it may be tasty, but it’s not pretty. Meanwhile, I am wary of too-pretty food; perfectly smoothed fondant lids on cakes, making them look like rubber, overly glazed tartlets that look like they’re cellophaned.

And of course, all of this is just an elaboration explanation-slash-apology for the hideously sounding and looking sausage stuffed potatoes that were so good, I will happily eat them only in private if I must, as long as I get to have them again.

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This is one of those recipes that I’ve had bookmarked for more than a year (a! year!) and never made, despite knowing it would be nothing short of awesome and that my husband, who is a Dijon and also a roasted potato fanatic, would adore it. Obviously, I do not love him at all, right?

And when I finally did make them two nights ago, oh, how I kicked myself. They never deserved to be detained my recipe holding pen for a year. Even a week would have been too long to wait. They’re crispy (from the roasting) and crackly (from the whole mustard seeds that darken when roasted and snap in your mouth) and tart and tangy (from the lemon) and make fantastic leftovers (with a fried egg on top) and seriously, I have learned my lesson.

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All right, people, time for a confession. This summer, for our third anniversary, our parents bought us a new set of pots and pans from the lovely All-Clad Master Chef 2 series. My last set, also a gift, dated back to 2000 and as much as I loved, loved, loved those Calphalon non-sticks with the clear glass lids, the nonstick was not only wearing off, I was ready to wean myself from it, and the annoying silicon-coated cooking utensils required to keep them intact. I wanted wooden spoons and metal spatulas and better caramelization in my cooking.

I love my new pots and pans, and they do everything good, heavy steel pots promise. Caramel? A cinch. Stovetop to oven? No problem! Gorgeously browned food? You got it. Eggs, potatoes and pancakes? Whoops!

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This poor things isn’t going to be winning any beauty pageants, and especially not in the rushed, omg-it’s-10p.m., why-aren’t-you-ready-yet way I cooked it, but this torte should not be underestimated. It’s some delicious stuff.

Though this is far from the most pitiful offender on the cooking backlog list, I still won’t admit how many weeks ago I made this. However, I do remember that I had a hankering for potatoes that week, and not just any potatoes, but yukon golds. As Alex always says, my cravings come with very specific instructions.

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