Baked Potato Slices -- The Father's Day Table I Built for Three

Father's Day. The sixth one. The first as a single father. Aiden made me a card at summer program: a stick figure at a grill (his default Dada image) with the words "Best Dad Ever" in his best handwriting. Zaria gave me a hug and said, "Happy Dada Day." The kids were here for the weekend, and I cooked Father's Day dinner for the three of us: steak (cast-iron, garlic butter, medium), baked potatoes, and a salad (from a bag — some limitations are permanent). We ate at the table, the three of us, and Aiden said grace: "Thank you God for Daddy and for food and for basketball and for Zee even though she is loud." Zaria said, "Not loud!" loudly, proving Aiden's point. I did not go to Mama's for Father's Day. She understood. She said, "This is your day. With your kids. At your table." She sent over a container of mac and cheese, because Mama cannot let a holiday pass without feeding someone, and her mac and cheese is the universal expression of maternal love. I thought about Dad. He is sixty-two now and the diabetes is a constant companion — medication, diet monitoring, foot checks. He spends most days in the recliner, watching the Tigers (the season started late this year, pandemic-shortened), talking to the TV like it can hear him. He does not complain. Ronald Carter has never complained about anything in his sixty-two years. He adjusts. He endures. I am learning to do both. The evening was quiet. Kids in bed by eight. I sat on the balcony with a beer (one, Bud Light, the remnant of a six-pack from last summer) and looked at the Detroit sky and thought about fatherhood: the weight of it, the privilege of it, the daily, grinding, beautiful labor of it. I am a single father. I cook for my children. I grill on my balcony. I coach basketball. I build Jeeps. I am thirty years old and none of this was the plan, and the plan would not have been as good.

The steak got the cast iron and the garlic butter and most of the attention, but the baked potatoes were the anchor of that meal — the thing that made the table feel like a real dinner, not just food. For the three of us, I kept it simple: sliced thin, seasoned right, roasted until the edges crisped up. Aiden ate four. Zaria ate two and called them “the crunchy ones.” That’s the whole review I needed. If you’re feeding your people something honest and good, baked potato slices will never let you down.

Baked Potato Slices

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 35 minutes | Total Time: 45 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

• 4 medium russet potatoes, scrubbed and dried
• 3 tablespoons olive oil
• 1 teaspoon garlic powder
• 1 teaspoon onion powder
• 1 teaspoon smoked paprika
• 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
• 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
• 1/4 teaspoon dried thyme
• Fresh parsley, chopped, for garnish (optional)

Instructions

1. Preheat oven. Heat your oven to 425°F. Line a large baking sheet with foil and lightly coat with cooking spray or a thin layer of oil.
2. Slice the potatoes. Cut each potato into 1/4-inch rounds. Try to keep the slices even so they cook at the same rate.
3. Season. In a large bowl, toss the potato slices with olive oil, garlic powder, onion powder, smoked paprika, salt, pepper, and thyme until every slice is evenly coated.
4. Arrange on the pan. Spread the slices in a single layer on the prepared baking sheet. Do not overlap — give them room to crisp up.
5. Roast. Bake for 20 minutes, then flip each slice and bake for another 12–15 minutes until the edges are golden and crisp and the centers are tender.
6. Serve. Transfer to a serving plate and garnish with chopped parsley if you have it. Serve hot alongside steak, chicken, or anything else at the table.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 210 | Protein: 4g | Fat: 7g | Carbs: 34g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 280mg