Eat Taters
As a lad growing up in the heart of the Smokies, I took just as much joy in ever-returning spring as did the adults. It was a time of trout fishing, food such as branch lettuce, ramps from nature’s sprawling garden, and the annual ritual of putting in a garden. Everything about the latter fascinated me—observing skilled horses and weathered human hands on the reins working in tandem as they readied the ground for planting, the heady aroma of freshly turned earth, worrying about cold snaps when fruit trees had begun to bloom, and the timeless rituals of planting.
My earliest memory of direct involvement in gardening, from boyhood when I first had a plot, focused on potatoes. What a “big boy” joy it was to be trusted with a keen-edged Barlow knife, allowed to help cut up seed potatoes in preparation to placing them in furrows carefully laid out with a push plow. Grandpa Joe would offer guidance to the effect of “cut you a good chunk and make sure it has at least two eyes,” while Daddy’s advice ran more on the theme of taking due care with a knife so keen it could cut to the bone with one slip.
As we readied seed potatoes, and both my paternal grandfather and father planted plenty of them every year, I would already have visions of the promised bounty lying not too far down the road. Grandpa contributed to that culinary dreaming with running commentary on the virtues and versatility of potatoes. He would talk about how good a properly baked potato, with crusty skin encasing flaky white bounty just begging for salt and butter, would taste come next winter. Or maybe he would muse about what a treat new potatoes, perhaps cooked with a mess of snap peas or served alongside a bowl greens or a salad of lettuce, spring onions, and radishes, would offer. Invariably, though, he summed up matters when it came to the overall importance of what he called “Irish taters” with a basic bit of practical philosophy. “Grow and eat lots of taters, son,” he would say. “They’ll stick to a man’s ribs.”
This crop offered many other advantages. Potatoes are comparatively easy to grow, keep well when properly stored, and come in many varieties. They can be planted quite early and should the tops get nipped by a late frost, they bounce back in admirable fashion. Best of all, potatoes are mighty tasty and lend themselves to a myriad of preparations. Here is a sampling of offerings, but in truth, the only limitation with potatoes is the scope of the cook’s culinary imagination.
"New" Potato Salad
I enjoy potato salad at any time of the year, but my favorite way is to make it with new potatoes. There’s something particularly appealing about their texture and taste, and the first potatoes of the season nicely coincide with the peak period of egg laying, so both the basic ingredients are available in abundance. If you happen to raise chickens and a garden, my, oh my, are you blessed. Here’s an easy-peasy way to make a potato salad, liberally laced with boiled eggs, and it’s fit for the pickiest of appetites. There are no precise measurements for the simple reason I don’t use them, but you can go light or heavy on the key ingredients depending on the dictates of your taste.
- 3 to 6 boiled eggs. Once they have boiled (do this in advance) set aside to cool.
- Roughly three times that volume in new potatoes. Cut into chunks and boil until just tender. Drain and set aside while you peel the eggs.
- Chop the eggs into pieces in a large bowl and then add the boiled potatoes.
- Cut up sweet pickles—I like a lot of pickles in my salad—and add to the eggs and potatoes.
- If you like raw onion, chop up a large Vidalia onion and add to the bowl.
- Mustard and mayonnaise to taste—I just squeeze mustard out of a container until it looks like enough, add several tablespoons of mayonnaise, and stir everything up. Want more mayo or mustard? Fine.
- Salt and pepper to taste, and sprinkle the finished potato salad with a really hefty dose of paprika.
- Stir the paprika in and place the bowl in the fridge to chill.
Potato Soup
Anytime someone is feeling poorly, in my family the standard remedy is not chicken soup but has long been potato soup. Rich and savory, it’s easily prepared and a welcome dish not only at such times but also throughout the year. In the summertime, when hot soup just doesn’t have the same appeal, there’s always the alternative of vichyssoise. But for present purposes, here’s a simple recipe for piping hot potato soup.
- Four large or six medium peeled potatoes
- 1 large sweet onion
- ½ stick butter
- 1 cup chicken broth or stock
- 2 cups whole milk or half-and-half
- Salt and pepper to taste
Cut the potatoes into quarter-inch slices and boil until they break part readily when tested with a fork. As potatoes are cooking, slice the onion and cook in a pan with half of the butter until translucent. Drain most of the water from the potatoes then add the broth, onion, milk (half-and-half makes a really rich soup), remaining butter, and seasonings to the pot. Stir while reheating. Serve piping hot.
TIPS: If desired, you can gussy the soup up by sprinkling with fresh chives, crumbling bacon bits atop individual servings, or garnishing with grated cheddar cheese.
Jim Casada photo
Eat Taters
Simple Baked Potatoes
When it comes to satisfying food simplicity, a properly baked potato, festooned with tasty adornments of your choice, is mighty hard to beat. But not all baked potatoes are equal. Microwaving gives you edibles in a hurry, but the skin won’t have the crusty crunch that is so satisfying. Much the same holds true if you use aluminum wrap and bake your tubers in the oven. Yet a couple of simple tricks of the tater trade can make a world of difference. Here’s the sure, simple route to success.
Thoroughly wash and scrub the potatoes to be baked. High-starch ones, such as the old mountain favorite Kennebec or store-bought Russets, are best. Dry the potatoes and then coat thoroughly with vegetable oil. Place potatoes on a baking sheet and sprinkle liberally with coarse sea salt, using tongs to turn them over so all sides are salted. Bake at 400 degrees for about an hour—time will depend on the size of the potatoes—until fully done. You can squeeze one gently wearing an oven mitt to check. The end result will be a crisp skin enclosing inner goodness just begging to be popped open and loaded with real butter, sour cream, cheese, chopped green onions or chives, maybe bits of dried cayenne pepper, bacon crumbles, or other goodies. A big baked potato with such accompaniments and a fruit salad as a side dish can provide a full meal, or for the dedicated trencherman a somewhat smaller version, with a green salad, makes an ideal companion for a tasty steak.
Potato Cakes
Mashed potatoes have long been a staple on mountain tables, and with good reason. They are delicious, especially when prepared with enough whole milk or butter to give them just the perfect degree of creaminess. Anyone who finds mashed potatoes and properly made gravy unpalatable assuredly has some taste glands out of whack. For me, though, and I’m someone who can dig into a big mound of mashed potatoes with great gusto, the ultimate taste temptation they provide comes with leftovers prepared in the form of potato cakes.
- 3 cups of leftover mashed potatoes
- ½ cup flour
- 1 heaping tablespoon fresh, mixed herbs (oregano, chives, parsley, or others) chopped fine
- 3 tablespoons whole milk or half-and-half
- Salt and pepper to taste
- Fresh bacon crumbles (optional)
Knead all the ingredients in a bowl until smooth and well mixed. Form patties by hand while working on a well-floured cutting board or similar surface. Flatten the patties, which should be about 3 inches in diameter, to a half-inch thickness. Turn over on the board so both sides have a thin coating of flour. Melt 2-3 tablespoons butter (use the real McCoy) in a large skillet or atop a pancake griddle. Once the cooking surface is at medium-high heat add the patties and cook until golden brown, turning only once. Take care when turning (a wide spatula is ideal). You likely will need to add butter during the cooking process. Serve piping hot. The combination of the crunchy crust and creamy inside is irresistible. Great for a hearty breakfast with scrambled eggs or as a side dish with other meals.
Smoky Mountain-Style Scalloped Potatoes
Maybe streaked meat doesn’t qualify as a condiment, but in the culinary world in which I grew up, behind only salt and black pepper, it served that purpose. From mustard greens to milk gravy, from any type of dried legume to standard garden vegetables, a chunk or two of this salty portion of pork with its many names—streak o’ lean, side meat, fat back, middlin’ meat, and others—was a staple for mountain cooks. There might have been minor differences as regards where it came from on home-butchered hogs, but when all was said and done it was salt pork, laden with fat and flavor. It added savor to countless dishes, not to mention serving as an accompaniment to cornbread or a taste changer in milk gravy for what were purt nigh meatless meals. When it came to a dish of scalloped potatoes, it was the culinary equivalent of lace on the bride’s pajamas.
Start with several slices of streaked meat, cut quite thin and fried crisp prior to beginning preparation on the scalloped potatoes. Save the grease from frying the meat.
Peel and slice enough potatoes (most any type will work, although mountain traditions would have leaned towards Kennebecs, Idahos, or Russets) to fill your baking dish close to full. For purposes of even cooking, try to make the slices all the same size. Of course if your kitchen utensils include a mandoline slicer you have that problem solved.
1 large Vidalia onion (optional) sliced quite thin.
Cream sauce. Preparing the cream sauce should not be intimidating. Begin by making a roux using your grease and flour, combined in the same skillet in which you fried the meat. Stir briskly with a whisk until you have the desired consistency. Then add milk (and cheese if desired), continuing to stir, until you have a nice, smooth sauce. Be sure it isn’t too thick, and as is the case with gravy you can control that by the addition of milk.
Seasonings such as chopped chives or parsley, black pepper, and sparsely used flakes or dried cayenne pepper to taste. Do not add salt if using streaked meat, as it carries a lot of salt in its own right. You can always add salt to taste with individual servings but you can’t rectify over salting.
Layer the ingredients, beginning with potato slices, then onion, cream sauce, and streaked meat. Sprinkle spices atop each complete layering of ingredients. Your final or top layer should be potatoes. Cover with foil and bake at 375 degrees until the potatoes test tender with a fork. Remove the foil and return to the oven for a few more minutes to give an eye catching brown to the dish. Allow to set for 15 minutes after taking from the oven so the sauce can thicken.
About the author: Jim Casada’s next book, scheduled for a June 2022 release from the University of Georgia Press, is Fishing for Chickens: A Smokies Food Memoir. It is a sort of companion volume, with a focus on regional foodlore from yesteryear, to his award-winning A Smoky Mountain Boyhood: Memories, Musings, and More. For additional information, visit his website at jimcasadaoutdoors.com.