Baked Sweet Potatoes -- The Freezer Is the Plan

Solstice Festival downtown. Midnight kayaking. Midnight tennis. A Code Blue Wednesday morning that we did not save. I stood in the parking lot for fifteen minutes before I got in my car.

Lourdes is 75. She is slower. She still cooks. She still tells me to find a husband even though I have one. Joseph said something funny Sunday on the phone. I do not remember exactly what. The funny is the brother.

I made lumpia Saturday. Sixty rolls. I delivered some to Lourdes. The rest went into the freezer for the week.

I wrote the blog post Friday night at the kitchen table while Reyna napped on the couch. The post was short. The post was honest.

I am tired in the seasoned way. The tired is the cost of love. I have been paying the cost. The cost is bearable.

I taught a Saturday morning Kain Na class on basic adobo proportions for new cooks. Eleven people in the kitchen. Half of them had never cooked Filipino food before. By eleven AM the kitchen smelled the way it should smell. By noon they were all eating. The eating was the lesson landing.

I read three chapters of the novel Saturday night before sleep. The novel was about a Filipina nurse in California. The nurse was being undone by her work. I knew the unraveling. I had lived the unraveling. I read on. The reading was the witnessing.

A blog reader sent me a photograph of her grandmother's wooden mortar and pestle, used since 1962. The photograph was holy. I wrote her back. The writing back is the work.

Lourdes called me twice this week. The first call was about a church event. The second was about a recipe variation she had remembered from her childhood. The remembering was the gift.

A reader from New Jersey wrote in about her grandmother's adobo, which used pineapple. I had never heard of pineapple in adobo. I tried it. It was strange. It was also good. The strange and the good are not opposites.

Pete and I had a long phone conversation Tuesday. We talked about the family — his and mine. The talking was the keeping.

Angela texted me a photo of the kids. I texted back a heart. The exchange took thirty seconds. The thirty seconds was the keeping.

I sat on the balcony in the cold for ten minutes Sunday night with a cup of broth in my hands. The cold was the cold. The broth was the broth. The body held both.

The neighbors invited us over for a small dinner Thursday. They are an Iñupiaq family — Aana and her grandson Joe. We ate caribou stew and rice. I brought lumpia. The kitchens of Anchorage have always been the small UN. The food is the proof.

I had a long phone call with Dr. Reeves on Wednesday. We talked about pacing and rest and the way the body keeps a log of what it has carried. Dr. Reeves said, "Grace. The body remembers. The mind forgets. The cooking is the bridge." I wrote the line down. The line is now on a sticky note above the kitchen sink.

The Anchorage sky was the Anchorage sky. The mountains were the mountains. The inlet was the inlet. The geography was the geography.

I made coffee at six AM. The coffee was the start. The start was always the same.

The break room had cake Tuesday. Someone's birthday. We ate the cake. We did not ask whose birthday. The cake was the cake.

The grocery store had no calamansi. I substituted lime. The substitution was acceptable. The acceptable is the working version of perfect.

The lumpia went into the freezer because that’s what you do when the week is already written before it starts — you cook ahead, you stock the cold shelves, you give future-you a small mercy. Baked sweet potatoes are the same logic: low effort, forgiving, already done by the time you remember you’re hungry. I started making them on Saturdays alongside whatever else was on the stove, because the oven was already on and the body needed something grounding that didn’t ask much of me. Dr. Reeves said the cooking is the bridge. This one is a very short bridge. The short bridge is still a bridge.

Baked Sweet Potatoes

Prep Time: 5 min | Cook Time: 50 min | Total Time: 55 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

• 4 medium sweet potatoes, scrubbed clean
• 1 tablespoon olive oil or neutral oil
• 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
• Optional toppings: butter, black pepper, sour cream, chopped scallions, or a drizzle of honey

Instructions

1. Preheat. Heat your oven to 400°F. Line a baking sheet with foil or parchment to catch any drips.
2. Prep the potatoes. Pat the sweet potatoes dry. Rub each one lightly with oil and sprinkle with salt. Poke each potato 6–8 times all over with a fork so steam can escape during baking.
3. Bake. Place the potatoes directly on the prepared baking sheet. Bake for 45–55 minutes, until a fork slides through the thickest part with no resistance and the skin has tightened and begun to caramelize at the puncture points.
4. Rest and serve. Remove from the oven and let rest 5 minutes. Slice lengthwise down the center, press the ends to open, and add toppings of your choice. Serve immediately or cool completely and refrigerate for up to 5 days.
5. To reheat from fridge. Microwave 2–3 minutes on high, or wrap in foil and warm in a 350°F oven for 15 minutes. Both work. The one that fits your Tuesday is the right one.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 130 | Protein: 2g | Fat: 3g | Carbs: 24g | Fiber: 4g | Sodium: 280mg