Potatoes

Every time I make twice baked potatoes I curse myself for not making them more often.  They are hardly more work than a traditional baked potato, and while the ingredients aren’t really different (I usually put butter, sour cream and chives on my baked spuds) something magical seems to happen when you fully mix the topping into the flesh of the potato and send it back into the oven for a quick stay at finishing school.

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To be honest our favorite mashed potatoes are Joel Robuchon’s famous pommes puree, silky smooth and very rich in butter. They are a little slice of heaven on earth, but they are a bit of work, what with having to pass them multiple times through a tamis, and the lengthy process of whisking in the butter and milk.  They are also a very refined spud dish, and to me, feel most at home as an accompaniment to an elegant meal like a flaky fish filet, some seared scallops, or as Robuchon often serves them, with  tiny, meltingly tender lamb rib chops.

On an evening when you are serving something a little less refined, like a big old rib-eye, or some beef or pork ribs, why not swing way over to the other end of things, and make a smashed potato with a more rustic texture, and maybe even a little crunch. This dish is an amalgam of some of our favorite flavors, and is perfect with roast chicken, a nice thick steak, or even a braised lamb shank. Smash it all together in a big pot just before serving for a dish quite unlike any other mashed potatoes you’ve ever had.  This smash was inspired by some fabulously chunky potatoes I had at “Olives” once.

We like the stilton mixed into the potatoes so that it melts a little, spreading its pungent, salty tang throughout the dish.  If some in your gang don’t care for blue cheese, feel free to pass it on the side, allowing individuals to sprinkle it over the finished dish if they wish.

Living in France for two years ultimately offered great culinary awakenings not just for me, but also for my kids, and they now look back fondly on all of the culinary “firsts” they enjoyed while living there.  That said, I am fairly certain that I was the most hated person on the planet in the days just following our expatriation (remember, we were moving there so that I could go to culinary school), because the culture shock for them was immediate and intense. The kids’ first few weeks in-country were predictably awful (gastronomically speaking), as they were forced to change their diets literally overnight.  Gone were chicken fingers and Velveeta Mac and Cheese, american burgers and dogs, and most breakfast cereals they were accustomed to.

We had lived there only a couple of days when Arthas hit the wall.  We were buying lunch from a little concession at the entrance to the famed “Catacombs” of Paris.  He ordered a hamburger, expecting no doubt, “two all-beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles, onions, on a sesame seed bun.  Instead, he was handed a fairly suspect patty served on a day old baguette, topped with some WICKED STINKY cheese, and a runny fried egg.  I can still see the poor kid banging his head on the side of the kiosk while fighting back his tears.

Thankfully, within just a few weeks, things started looking up for Arthas on the food front.  It all began turning around for him when we dined at “Le Relais de l’Entrecote” just off of Boulevard Saint-Germain.  “Le Relais” is a restaurant that serves just one dish, but they do it exceedingly well.  If you happen to be in Paris, and are in the mood for Steak-Frites, then “Le Relais” is your place.  The meal there is served in two stages, each filling your plate with perfectly cooked, sliced steak slathered in a fabulous butter-herb sauce (the subject of endless chat-room banter, and the recipe for which appears to be a more closely held secret than that for Coca-Cola!), and a huge pile of golden, crispy fries.  Arthas had just cleaned his plate when the waitress came back around with seconds of everything, the fries fresh from the kitchen, and his fate was sealed.  He was so smitten with the frites, that from that day forward, he would devote considerable energies to searching out the best potato dishes on the planet, a quest that keeps him busy to this day.

Our time in Paris would present him with two more contenders for the title.

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