Lemon Oregano Potatoes

Another week. Another set of sunrises over Lake Superior. Another set of meals cooked for one and eaten at a table set for two. The two-place setting is the thing the kids have stopped commenting on. They used to remark when they came to visit. They used to gently suggest, in the way grown children gently suggest, that perhaps it was time to set just one. Now they set their own additional plates around mine and they let Paul's plate be Paul's plate. The setting is the love. The setting is the staying. Elsa called from Voyageurs. She had a sighting of a wolf — a single gray adult crossing a frozen bay at dawn, fifty yards from her cabin. She had a sighting of a moose two days later. She is happy in the woods. I am glad someone in this family is happy in the woods. I have always loved Lake Superior, but the deeper woods are not for me. Elsa is for the deeper woods. The match is right. Anna sent photos from Minneapolis — the kids in their school uniforms, David's new bookshelf, the dog (their dog, not mine; their dog is named Cooper, and Cooper is a Bernese mountain dog who weighs more than Anna and who is, by all accounts, the most relaxed dog in the upper Midwest). I printed three of the photos and put them on the fridge. The fridge holds the family that is not currently in the kitchen. I cooked Tater tot hotdish this week. Ground beef and onion browned in the cast iron, drained, mixed with cream of mushroom soup (yes, the can; Mamma uses the can; the can is acceptable), green beans, salt, pepper, a pour of milk to loosen. Spread in the casserole dish. Tater tots arranged in concentric rings on top. Forty minutes at 350. The smell is unmistakable. The smell is Minnesota. Thursday at Damiano. I brought a tray of pepparkakor — the second batch from the Christmas freezer, brought back to crispness in a low oven. They were eaten in fifteen minutes. The cookies are not the soup. The cookies are the extra. The extra is the message: you are worth the effort of cookies. Most of the world does not give the people who come to Damiano the message that they are worth the effort of cookies. The cookies are doing political work. I dreamed about Paul last night. The dream was specific: we were at the lake, in the canoe, fishing for trout. He was teaching me the right way to cast (he was always trying to teach me; I never quite got the rhythm; I caught fish anyway, by accident, with embarrassing regularity). In the dream he was patient and present and entirely himself. I woke up at 4 AM. I made coffee. I sat in the kitchen. The dream was a visit. I have learned to receive the visits without reaching for them. They come when they come. It is enough. Paul is not here. Mamma is not here. Pappa is not here. Erik is not here. They are all here in the kitchen, in the smell, in the taste, in the wooden spoon and the bread pans and the marble slab. The dead are not where the body went. The dead are in the kitchen. It is enough.

The hotdish is the heavy anchor of the week — the smell that is Minnesota, the recipe that belongs to Mamma and the can and the casserole dish and Paul’s plate still set at the table. But there are nights after the hotdish is gone, after the dream and the 4 AM coffee, when I want the kitchen to smell like something a little lighter, a little more forward-facing: potatoes again, because potatoes are always right, but this time with lemon and oregano, something that gestures toward spring even in the second autumn. These Lemon Oregano Potatoes are what I make when I need the same steadiness in a less heavy form — the same cast iron, the same patience, a different angle of warmth.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 40 minutes | Total Time: 50 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

2 lbs Yukon Gold potatoes, cut into 1-inch wedges
3 tablespoons olive oil
3 cloves garlic, minced
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1 teaspoon lemon zest
2 teaspoons dried oregano
3/4 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
2 tablespoons fresh flat-leaf parsley, roughly chopped (optional, for serving)

Instructions

Preheat. Heat your oven to 400°F. Line a large rimmed baking sheet with parchment or leave it bare if you want a harder sear on the bottom.
Season the potatoes. In a large bowl, combine the potato wedges with olive oil, garlic, lemon juice, lemon zest, oregano, salt, and pepper. Toss until every wedge is coated evenly.
Arrange and roast. Spread the potatoes in a single layer on the baking sheet, cut side down where possible. Roast for 20 minutes undisturbed, then flip and roast another 18–20 minutes until the edges are golden and the centers are completely tender when pierced with a fork.
Finish and serve. Transfer to a serving dish and scatter fresh parsley over the top if using. Taste for salt. Eat while they’re hot — they are best hot.

Nutrition (per serving)

Lemon Oregano Potatoes — When the Kitchen Holds More Than One Season