Gruyère Mashed Potatoes

The week after graduation and the house is quiet again. Destiny has gone back to her apartment in Birmingham—she graduated Thursday, stayed for the Sunday dinner, left Monday morning, back to the life she is building for herself. CJ has gone back to Huntsville. The visiting is over and the house has returned to its ordinary Tuesday-and-Sunday rhythm, which I find I like, the ordinary days, the steady pace, the cooking that isn't for occasion but for sustenance, for the ongoing project of feeding two people who love each other in a house that smells right.

I have been thinking about what comes next for Destiny. She has her degree. She will work in social work—child welfare, family systems, the work she has been moving toward since she was watching me and Calvin navigate the congregation's crises at twelve years old, since she decided that helping people through the worst things was a calling and not just a job. She will be good at it. She is already good at it—I've seen her listen, the way she goes still and open when someone is talking, the way she holds space without filling it, which is a skill that takes most people a lifetime and that Destiny has had since childhood. She is going to do tremendous things. Marcus would have cheered the loudest.

Bernice's Table on Tuesday had thirty-five people. I introduced a new dish this week—candied yams, which I don't do every week because the preparation is labor-intensive and the sugar is significant—but I wanted something sweet and substantial, something that said warmth rather than just sustenance. They went in twenty minutes. Every single dish. I need more yams next week.

Calvin and I had our twenty-seventh wedding anniversary on May twenty-third. We went to dinner—an actual restaurant, which we do rarely, Calvin's suggestion, a quiet place in Homewood that does good catfish. We sat across the table from each other with good food and good wine and twenty-seven years of marriage between us and the particular quality of a long marriage that has passed through fire and is still here: not romantic, exactly, but something deeper than romance. Something that holds. Something that is not glamorous and is not optional and is, in the end, the only kind of love that matters. We held hands on the way home. The night was warm. The dogwood was done blooming. That was enough.

The candied yams I made for Bernice’s Table that week reminded me of something I already knew but needed to feel again: that the dishes worth making are the ones that say warmth rather than just sustenance, the ones that require a little more of you and give a little more back. When Calvin and I came home from our anniversary dinner in Homewood — that quiet catfish place, the warm night, twenty-seven years held in two hands on the walk to the car — I knew what I wanted to make the next day, something rich and unhurried, something that honored the ordinary without making a fuss of it. These Gruyère mashed potatoes are that dish for me: simple enough for a Tuesday, good enough for a celebration, and exactly the kind of thing that makes a house smell right.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 40 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

2 1/2 lbs Yukon Gold potatoes, peeled and cut into 2-inch chunks
1 cup shredded Gruyère cheese, divided
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into pieces
1/2 cup heavy cream, warmed
1/3 cup whole milk, warmed
2 cloves garlic, peeled and smashed
1 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more for boiling water
1/2 teaspoon white pepper
1/4 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
2 tablespoons fresh chives, thinly sliced, for garnish

Instructions

Boil the potatoes. Place the potato chunks and smashed garlic cloves in a large pot and cover with cold, well-salted water. Bring to a boil over high heat, then reduce to a steady simmer. Cook 18—22 minutes, until the potatoes are completely tender and a fork slides through without resistance. Drain well and discard the garlic.
Dry the potatoes. Return the drained potatoes to the pot over low heat for 1—2 minutes, shaking gently, to let excess moisture evaporate. This step keeps the mash from turning watery.
Mash and enrich. Remove from heat. Add the butter pieces and mash until mostly smooth. Pour in the warmed cream and milk, then continue mashing until you reach your desired consistency — smooth and creamy, or with a little texture left in. Do not overwork the potatoes or they will turn gluey.
Fold in the cheese. Stir in 3/4 cup of the shredded Gruyère until melted and fully incorporated. Season with the salt, white pepper, and nutmeg. Taste and adjust seasoning.
Finish and serve. Transfer to a warm serving bowl. Top with the remaining 1/4 cup Gruyère, which will soften beautifully from the heat of the potatoes. Scatter the fresh chives over the top and serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Gruyère Mashed Potatoes — The Warmth You Come Home To