I unabashedly love the potato, in all its guises, but I have to admit it’s usually in the background of a meal. Even when the potato is the star of a dish, it’s often another ingredient that steals the show. In gratins and mash, it’s the cream, cheese, butter, or garlic that you really remember. Even French fries are mostly a deep-fried delivery system for cooking oil.

Braising brings to mind slowly cooked meat, fragrant with wine and herbs. What happens though, when the same care is given to the potato? In this week’s French Fridays dish, new potatoes (or fingerlings, or baby potatoes) are simmered with stock, garlic, lemon zest, and herbs. Dorie describes these as “energized” boiled potatoes and I’d describe them as potatoes that easily stand on their own. I’ve made them with chicken stock or vegetable broth and have been equally happy with the results, but it’s important to use fresh herbs. It makes a huge difference. I’ve dressed them lightly with just salt and pepper, sometimes with a bit of butter, or with a squeeze of lemon. They’re perfect for soaking up juices, too, as they did when I served them with steak.

Taking a bit of care with potatoes turns out to take almost as little time as simply boiling them.

You can find many other blogged descriptions of this week’s FFWD recipe here: Broth-Braised Potatoes

I told someone recently that I like to build a wall of sugar between the world and me. Bringing treats to meetings and gatherings has always been my way of coping with a lifelong shyness. There are other benefits, too. Last night, I brought cake to our housing co-op’s annual budget planning meeting, as I think sweets help sweeten the process for people. We’re lucky, actually, as we have a lot of talented cooks and bakers in our co-op, so most meetings are delicious (and mostly productive) affairs.

I wasn’t sure that I was going to have time to make this week’s recipe, but Quatre-Quarts is so simple I was able to get it together in time to slip it onto a plate, still warm from the oven, just as I was ready to leave for the meeting. Its ingredients are similar to a pound cake, but separating the eggs and whipping the whites gives it a much lighter texture. It’s a plain cake, served as a snack or with fruit and cream. Dorie sprinkles her version with brown sugar to give it a caramelized crispness. I added ginger and nutmeg to mine, just because.

I didn’t get a chance to photograph it properly before I left and I returned with only two tiny slivers, which somehow disappeared before I got up the gumption to plate them and set up a shot. I’d much rather a cake that disappears than an untouched one, anyway.

You can find many other blogged descriptions of this week’s FFWD recipe here: Quatre-Quarts

There’s something retro about using potato chips in a recipe, something very early-sixties-potluck about it. Back then, it would have been the topping on a casserole, but here it appears in a take on the Basque tortilla. There’s also something au courant about this recipe, too, particularly with the madness over Mad Men. Today, we’ve got a dish that would probably be described as convenience food, elevated.

I made it for brunch and everyone at the table was a little apprehensive about trying it. But, the potato chips sort of disappear into the eggs, leaving only a smoky potato flavour. There’s no milk or cheese in this dish, so the flavours of the other ingredients aren’t softened. The bite of the cayenne, the sweetness of the onion and garlic, and the freshness of the herbs complement the flavour of the potato (chips), with the richness of the eggs holding it all together.

I can’t say that I’d revisit this recipe soon; I’d much rather stick with real potatoes. I do think the mixed herbs are likely to find their way into the pan the next time I make the traditional version. I’ll also admit that the potato chips acquitted themselves very well.

I’m a little behind on French Fridays – the others posted about this a few weeks ago. You can find their posts on this recipe here: Potato Chip Tortilla.

This week’s French Friday’s theme is Cook’s Choice and I chose to catch up on a recipe I’d missed this month.

Squash soup is so ubiquitous at this time of year that it risks becoming boring. At last year’s co-op soup swap, we joked that we were all worried that we’d go home with six kinds of squash soup, though we’d have been disappointed if there had been none.

When I think of squash soup, I think of the nuttiness of butternut squash, with a mirepoix and chicken stock base, perhaps mixed with some cream, and seasoned with thyme and nutmeg. This squash soup is a little different. Onion, garlic, celery, and fennel form the base of the soup and are seasoned with ginger, cumin, and nutmeg. Roasted squash, pears, and orange peel finish the soup. Once it’s puréed, it looks like any other squash soup, but it’s sweet and subtly spicy. It’s a soup that improves with age, too, so I’d even recommend making it the day before you serve it. The sweetness is better balanced by the other flavours when the soup has rested 24 hours or more.

I served it simply, with a grind of pepper, though the suggested toppings are crème fraîche and toasted pumpkin seeds. It was a hit across my family, even with my squash-leery partner.

I’m looking forward to reading about the recipes chosen by the other Doristas this week. Click the link at the top of the post and browse – I predict there will be a wide range of dishes to read about this week.

I’ve been reminded recently that I’m very lucky to have had access to free, organic meat for twenty years. My parents have a hobby farm and have kept chickens, sheep, ducks, and pigs over the years. My father’s also a hunter and fisher, so I’ve had access to wild game and fish, too. I think I’ll come to appreciate just how lucky I’ve been once my parents sell the farm, which they’re getting ready to do. So, I kept that in mind while making this stew, knowing that the lovely shoulder roast I was using for this meal is part of a now finite stock. I hope I’m able to find local lamb of such quality once the last of my parents’ lamb is gone.

I removed the meat from the bones myself, including a small rack of ribs. We boiled the ribs with the other bones and fat, adding herbs, onion, and garlic. My mother then baked the ribs with herbs and barbeque sauce, while the rest simmered into a lovely lamb stock. (Making several things at once gives me a sense of resourcefulness that’s probably unearned.) Cutting the meat away from the bone, then chopping it into one-inch chunks is really the most difficult part of this recipe.

The second-most difficult part of the process for me was picking mint in the snow after dark. It felt quite adventurous, though, as we don’t usually get snow this early in the season and it actually stuck around until the next afternoon. The rest of the ingredients were easy to assemble and prepare.

This stew is a mixture of Indian and North African flavours, which work remarkably well together. Mint, curry, cardamom, honey, and figs flavour slowly braised lamb, while potato and apple slices steam on top. I served mine atop a slice of country bread the first night and rice the next. Both soaked up the lovely jus beautifully.

This dish was worth chopping up a shoulder roast and would work really well with pork, too. It would also be easily translatable to crock pot cooking – I can imagine using thickly-cut pork chops, in that case. But lamb, that would still be my first choice, even after my parents’ supply runs out.

You can find many other blogged descriptions of this week’s FFWD recipe here: Braised Cardamom-Curry Lamb