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Braised Dill Potatoes — The Side Dish Clay Can Peel Into Something More

Veterans Day. The first one where the word "veteran" applies to my son. Clay is a veteran. Nineteen years old and a veteran. The word sits on him like a uniform that's too big — he'll grow into it, but right now it's loose and awkward and he doesn't know how to wear it yet.

He didn't acknowledge Veterans Day. He stayed home, ate lunch, watched TV. When someone on the news said "Thank you to our veterans," he changed the channel. I don't know what that means. I don't know if he doesn't want the thanks or doesn't feel he deserves the thanks or simply can't hear the thanks without hearing the sound of the IED and the silence after. I don't ask. I make dinner.

This week: Thanksgiving prep begins. One year since the smallest Thanksgiving. This year will be bigger — Clay is home. Travis and Jolene will be here. Amber will be here (she traded shifts). Betty can't come (the drive, the vision, the age) but she'll FaceTime. The table will have six. Six is good. Six is the number I want.

I'm brining the turkey tomorrow. Same recipe: gallon of water, cup of salt, half cup of brown sugar, peppercorns, bay leaves. The cornbread dressing is mapped out — I'll make the cornbread Wednesday, let it dry overnight, assemble Thursday morning. Sweet potato casserole: marshmallow for Betty's ghost, pecan for Connie. I'm making both again because the diplomacy of last year worked and peacetime treaty obligations don't expire.

Clay asked if he could help with Thanksgiving cooking. First time he's volunteered for anything in the kitchen since he came home. I said "You can peel the potatoes." He said "I can do more than potatoes." I said "You can peel the potatoes and make the gravy." He said "I can make gravy." He can. I taught him gravy when he was fourteen — pan drippings, flour, milk, stir until thick. It's the simplest recipe in the kitchen and the most essential. Gravy covers everything. Gravy connects the turkey to the dressing to the potatoes to the plate. Gravy is the connective tissue of Thanksgiving, and Clay is going to make it, and the act of making it — of standing at the stove, of stirring, of being useful — might be worth more than all the therapy hours combined.

Clay said he could do more than peel potatoes — and he’s right, he can — but the peeling still matters. It’s the first thing, the quiet thing, the thing you do with your hands while your mind finds its footing. These braised dill potatoes are built for exactly that moment: simple enough that the prep is meditative, good enough that the result earns its place on a Thanksgiving table next to whatever gravy Clay decides to pour over everything. We’re making them together this year, and that’s the whole point.

Braised Dill Potatoes

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 25 minutes | Total Time: 35 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

  • 2 lbs small red or Yukon Gold potatoes, peeled and halved
  • 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
  • 1 tablespoon olive oil
  • 3 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1 cup chicken broth
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
  • 2 tablespoons fresh dill, chopped (or 2 teaspoons dried dill)
  • 1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice

Instructions

  1. Prep the potatoes. Peel and halve the potatoes, keeping pieces roughly uniform so they braise evenly. Pat dry with a paper towel.
  2. Sear for color. In a large, deep skillet or Dutch oven, melt butter with olive oil over medium-high heat. Add potatoes cut-side down and cook without stirring for 4–5 minutes until golden brown on the bottom.
  3. Add garlic. Flip potatoes, add minced garlic to the pan, and cook 1 minute more, stirring the garlic gently so it doesn’t burn.
  4. Braise. Pour in the chicken broth, season with salt and pepper, and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to medium-low, cover, and braise for 15–18 minutes until potatoes are fork-tender and have absorbed most of the liquid.
  5. Finish with dill. Remove lid, raise heat briefly to reduce any remaining liquid to a light glaze, about 2 minutes. Remove from heat, stir in fresh dill and lemon juice.
  6. Serve. Transfer to a serving dish. Spoon pan drippings or turkey gravy over the top if desired — and if Clay’s gravy is ready, this is exactly where it goes.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 175 | Protein: 3g | Fat: 7g | Carbs: 26g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 310mg

Craig Hensley
About the cook who shared this
Craig Hensley
Week 189 of Craig’s 30-year story · Lexington, Kentucky
Craig is a retired coal miner from Harlan County, Kentucky — a man who spent twenty years underground and seventeen hours trapped in a collapsed tunnel before he was twenty-four. He moved his family to Lexington when the mine closed, learned to cook his mama Betty's Appalachian recipes from memory because she never wrote them down, and now he's trying to get them on paper before they're lost. He says "reckon" and "fixing to" and means both. His bourbon-glazed ribs are, according to his wife Connie, "acceptable" — which is the highest praise she gives.

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