Leek Potato Pancakes

The last week of the year. Hanukkah is over — the menorah is cleaned and put away, the last of the latke batter has been fried, the kitchen has been degreased from eight nights of oil, which is a cleaning job that requires industrial-grade determination and a significant quantity of dish soap. I don't mind. The cleaning is the closing of the chapter. You light, you fry, you eat, you clean. The cycle is the comfort.

New Year's Eve is tomorrow, which is not a Jewish holiday and which I observe with the enthusiasm of a woman who will be asleep by ten o'clock: minimal. I make a brisket for New Year's Day, because brisket is my answer to every occasion and every question and every uncertainty, and the turning of the year from one number to the next deserves at least a brisket. This year — 2019 becoming 2020 — I feel the turn more acutely than usual. This year held Marvin's continued decline and Noah's birth and the beginning of something I can't name yet, a reshaping of what the Feldman family is and will be. The year took things. The year gave things. The ledger is not balanced. It never is. You close the books and open new ones and hope the next year's entries are kinder.

Marvin fell asleep at nine-thirty on New Year's Eve and I sat in the kitchen with a glass of wine — just one, I am not a drinker, but New Year's Eve with a glass of wine in a quiet kitchen feels appropriate — and I thought about what I want from 2020. Not resolutions. I don't make resolutions. I make intentions, which is different: a resolution is a promise you make to yourself and break by February; an intention is a direction you set and walk toward, knowing you'll wander. My intention for 2020: to be present. To be here, in this kitchen, in this life, with this man, for as long as I'm given. To make soup. To teach. To feed the grandchildren. To write. To remember, on Marvin's behalf and my own, because the remembering is the work now, and I am suited to it, because I am an English teacher, and remembering — careful, precise, with attention to detail — is exactly what English teachers do.

The brisket for New Year’s Day is already planned, already inevitable — but before that, in the quiet between the holidays, I found myself back at the stove with potatoes and leeks, because the kitchen is where I process things, and there was still processing to do. The latkes were Hanukkah’s. These potato pancakes, softer and more savory with the sweetness of braised leek running through them, belong to the in-between — to the hinge of the year, to the woman sitting alone with her wine at nine forty-five, making something warm before the new entries begin. They are not a celebration. They are a breath.

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 25 minutes | Total Time: 45 minutes | Servings: 4 (about 12 pancakes)

Ingredients

2 lbs russet potatoes, peeled and coarsely grated
2 medium leeks, white and light green parts only, halved lengthwise and thinly sliced
2 large eggs, lightly beaten
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
1 tsp kosher salt, plus more to taste
1/2 tsp freshly ground black pepper
1/4 tsp garlic powder
1 tbsp unsalted butter
4 tbsp vegetable oil, divided, for frying
Sour cream or applesauce, for serving

Instructions

Drain the potatoes. Place the grated potatoes in a clean kitchen towel and squeeze firmly over the sink to remove as much moisture as possible. Transfer to a large mixing bowl. Excess moisture is the enemy of a crisp pancake — don’t rush this step.
Soften the leeks. In a small skillet over medium-low heat, melt the butter. Add the sliced leeks with a pinch of salt and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened and just beginning to turn golden, about 6–8 minutes. Remove from heat and let cool slightly.
Mix the batter. Add the cooled leeks, beaten eggs, flour, salt, pepper, and garlic powder to the bowl with the potatoes. Stir until evenly combined. The mixture should hold together when pressed; if it seems loose, add another tablespoon of flour.
Heat the oil. In a large heavy-bottomed skillet (cast iron works beautifully here), heat 2 tablespoons of the vegetable oil over medium-high heat until shimmering but not smoking.
Fry the pancakes. Working in batches, scoop about 1/4 cup of the potato mixture per pancake into the skillet and press gently into a round about 1/2 inch thick. Cook undisturbed until the underside is deep golden brown, 3–4 minutes. Flip and cook the second side until equally golden, another 3–4 minutes. Adjust heat as needed — too high and the outside burns before the interior cooks through.
Drain and keep warm. Transfer finished pancakes to a wire rack set over a baking sheet in a 200°F oven to stay warm while you fry the remaining batches, adding more oil to the pan as needed.
Season and serve. Season with additional salt while still hot. Serve immediately with sour cream or applesauce alongside.

Nutrition (per serving)

Leek Potato Pancakes — The Closing of One Chapter, the Opening of Another