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BOILED POTATOES WITH BUTTER AND MINT

I never get bored with potatoes. They’re one of those quietly wonderful vegetables. The potato isn’t flashy. It doesn’t advertise with bright colours like tomatoes or carrots. It’s not a fleeting beauty like ramps. It doesn’t have the big, sweet flavour of corn or peas. The potato, rather, is comforting and always there for you. The potato is like a good mate you’ve known for ever.

I discovered my affection for the potato in primary school. Me and my little friends would storm the cafeteria at lunch. Most of the food was rubbish, except the buttery boiled potatoes, which I’d eat by the pile. This is my grown-up version. It’s barely more complicated – the mint adds brightness and the lemon cuts through the starch and fat – but a lot more moreish. For you Yanks, moreish just means that each bite makes you want to eat more of it.

serves 4 as a side

450g small potatoes all, about the same size

1 tablespoon Maldon or another flaky sea salt

50g unsalted butter, cut into several pieces

1 small garlic clove, finely grated

A five-finger pinch of mint leaves, roughly torn at the last minute

½ lemon

Coarsely ground black pepper

Put the potatoes and the salt in a medium straight-sided pan or small, shallow pot, add enough water to cover the potatoes by 1cm or so, and set the pot over high heat. Bring the water to a boil, reduce the heat to maintain a vigorous simmer, and cook until fully tender and creamy inside, about 20 minutes. Reserving 55ml of the cooking liquid, drain the potatoes (gently so they don’t break) and return them to the pot.

Add the butter, garlic and reserved cooking liquid to the pot and set it over medium-high heat. Let the butter melt and the liquid bubble until the liquid looks milky, 1 to 2 minutes. Cook at a vigorous simmer, tilting the pan and swirling the liquid occasionally, until the liquid reduces to a slightly viscous glaze, about 5 minutes.

Add the mint, stir gently but well, and take the pot off the heat. Squeeze on just enough lemon juice to add brightness, not acidity, and add pepper and more salt to taste. Serve straightaway.


Simple things

potatoes


You’ll find many recipes for potatoes in this book. But my love for the lowly potato began at my school cafeteria with this simple preparation: boiled and buttered. Making them at home requires no recipe, just a bit of care and attention.

First, you must find potatoes with some character. In England, I’d go mad for the Jersey Royal. This is a springtime potato grown in the soil of Jersey, the French-speaking island in the English Channel. Farmers there use seaweed as fertiliser, just one of the reasons that these are extra special potatoes: earthy, sweet and creamy. In the States, any new potatoes – those dug before they’ve reached maturity and all the sugars have turned to starch – hit the spot. They’re so good that your only job as a cook is not to muck them up.

So long as you give the potatoes a good rinse and gentle rub with your fingers, you can leave the thin skins on. If some of the potatoes are larger than others, cut them into similarly sized pieces, so they’ll all be done at the same time. Pop them into a pot, add enough water to cover them by a couple of centimetres and add plenty of salt, because starchy things like potatoes don’t absorb salt easily. You should add enough salt so that when it dissolves the water will taste a little less salty than the sea does.

Bring the water to a boil, then reduce the heat to maintain a steady simmer – the larger the potatoes, the more gentle the simmer should be to ensure even cooking – and cook until they’re tender and creamy. To tell when they’re done, here’s a trick I learned: stick a small sharp knife into one of the potatoes, then lift the knife – if the potato comes up with the knife then slides right off by itself, the potatoes are done. Just don’t get poke happy or the potatoes will get water logged. Drain the potatoes carefully in a colander, then let them sit for a few minutes so some water escapes as steam. While they’re still hot, put them in a bowl and toss them with plenty of butter, cut into pieces, until it melts. Top with coarsely ground black pepper and a nice sprinkling of salt, if you’d like.

SALT-CRUSTED POTATOES WITH HERBED VINEGAR

Here’s a nice, unusual way to cook my old pal the potato. For the typical boiled potatoes, I’d simmer them gently in salty water. For this preparation, the bubbles are furious. In fact, you’re meant to boil the water not just until the potatoes are cooked but until it evaporates altogether. (While I do it, I like to think of a salt lake drying out to become a salt flat.) The salt left behind coats each potato to form a toasty crust that reminds me of a perfect baked potato with an especially salty jacket. Then all you do is spoon on a mixture of vinegar and fresh herbs. Just don’t serve the potatoes in a bowl or stir them, or you’ll lose the crust and the whole dish will get too salty.

serves 4 to 6 as a side

900g golf-ball-size waxy potatoes

3 tablespoons Maldon or another flaky sea salt

55ml extra-virgin olive oil

2 tablespoons red wine vinegar or sherry vinegar

A five-finger pinch of delicate flat-leaf parsley sprigs

6 or so large basil leaves

10 or so large mint leaves

Coarsely ground black pepper

Put the potatoes in a medium pot where they’ll fit snugly in one layer and add enough cold water to just barely cover them. Add the salt and bring the water to a boil over high heat. Boil until the potatoes are tender and the water has completely evaporated, giving the pan an occasional shake once the water’s almost all gone, 30 to 40 minutes. Keep cooking, and shaking, until the potatoes are coated with a layer of salt and the bottom of the pot has begun to brown (don’t fret; it’ll scrub off easily later), about 3 minutes more. Take the pot off the heat and let the potatoes cool slightly.

If any potatoes have a very thick layer of salt, gently rub them with a kitchen towel to knock a bit off. Halve the potatoes the long way and arrange them cut sides up on a large platter or plate. Whisk together the oil and vinegar in a small bowl until the mixture looks creamy. Toss the herbs together, coarsely chop them, and stir them into the vinegar mixture. Spoon the mixture over the potatoes, sprinkle on as much pepper as you’d like and serve straightaway.

HASSELBACK POTATOES WITH LARDO AND ROSEMARY

Rumour has it that these potatoes were invented at a restaurant in Stockholm called Hasselbacken. Whoever did come up with them is clever, indeed. The technique involves making parallel slits the length of the potato, cutting into but not completely through each spud and then roasting them, so they expand like an accordion and get extra crispy as they cook. The result is potatoes you want to eat with your hands.

When I make this dish, I like to tuck a sliver of lardo, Italian cured fatback, in some of those slits. As the potatoes cook, the lardo melts, basting the potatoes and going all crispy itself. Tucking in the lardo can be fiddly and take a while. (You might call it a bit of a hassle, if you don’t mind bad puns.) Keep at it. Remember that lardo cooperates better when it’s well chilled and that these are special-occasion potatoes that are worth the effort. But if you get really grumpy, stick to two or three pieces of lardo per potato rather than four or five.

serves 4 to 6 as a side

A Girl and Her Greens

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