Lemon Roasted Fingerlings — The Potatoes That Earned Their Place at the St. Patrick’s Day Table

Spring is trying to happen. Nebraska does not do spring without a fight. One day 62 and sunny, the next day 28 and spitting sleet, the crocuses confused, the ash trees waiting, the grass considering whether to commit. I drove a Des Moines run Tuesday and Wednesday in the sleet and a Grand Island-Lincoln on Thursday in the sun. By Friday my truck had salt crust on it an inch thick and I took it through the big truck wash at the yard and watched the water come off black.

Drove past the diner-for-sale in Iowa Wednesday. It is called the Prairie Grill. Boarded up. A sign in the window reading "For Sale or Lease" with a phone number. A big parking lot with weeds and an old gas pump island and a pole sign that still said PRAIRIE GRILL though the G had fallen off. It was perfect the way a ruined thing is perfect. I stopped the truck. I got out. I walked around the building. I peered through a gap in the window plywood and saw the shape of booths, a counter, a kitchen in the back. My heart did something strange. It did not race. It settled. I stood there for five minutes. Then I got back in the truck and drove home.

I told Dave. He said, "Brenda. You are not ready." I said, "I know." He said, "Fifty-five." I said, "I know." He said, "We have a plan." I said, "I know." I am not going to buy the Prairie Grill. But I saw it, and it was the first time I saw a shape like the shape in my head, and I wanted to tell somebody. I told Dave. I will tell Gayle next week. She will tell me I am crazy. She will also be proud.

St. Patrick's Day fell on Thursday. I made corned beef and cabbage and potatoes and carrots, the whole American-Irish spread, and the kids ate it and Tyler said, "Mom, do the Novaks have any Irish in them?" I said, "Not that I know of, Tyler." He said, "Then why are we eating this?" I said, "Because it is delicious." He accepted this. Tyler is a person who accepts good reasoning.

Amber's prom is coming up in April. She does not have a dress yet. She does not have a date, though a nice boy named Eli Jensen has asked her and she is going to say yes, which she has not told him but which we have discussed over toast. She wants a blue dress. She wants it to be cheap. She wants it to not look like a wedding dress. She wants it to be comfortable. She wants to go shopping with me. I said, "I am honored." She said, "Don't make it weird." I will try not to make it weird. I will make it weird. I cannot help it. We are going to Kearney on Saturday.

Tyler’s question — “Then why are we eating this?” — is the best argument for good food I have ever heard, and “because it is delicious” is the only answer that ever needs to be given. The potatoes were the part of that St. Patrick’s Day dinner that disappeared first, and after a week of sleet runs and standing in a parking lot in Iowa trying to talk my own heart out of something, I needed a recipe that felt like spring was actually going to happen — bright with lemon, a little caramelized at the edges, the kind of thing you make when you want to believe in something. These lemon roasted fingerlings and Brussels sprouts are exactly that.

Lemon Roasted Fingerlings and Brussels Sprouts

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 30 min | Total Time: 45 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

• 1 1/2 lbs fingerling potatoes, halved lengthwise
• 1 lb Brussels sprouts, trimmed and halved
• 3 tablespoons olive oil
• 1 teaspoon kosher salt
• 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
• 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
• 1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes (optional)
• Zest of 1 lemon
• 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
• 2 tablespoons fresh flat-leaf parsley, chopped
• Flaky sea salt, for finishing

Instructions

1. Heat the oven. Preheat your oven to 425°F. Line a large rimmed baking sheet with parchment or leave it bare — both work, bare gives you a better crust.
2. Toss the vegetables. In a large bowl, combine the halved fingerlings and Brussels sprouts. Drizzle with olive oil, then add the salt, black pepper, garlic powder, and red pepper flakes if using. Toss well until every cut surface is coated.
3. Arrange cut-side down. Spread the vegetables in a single layer on the baking sheet, cut sides facing down. Do not crowd them — use two pans if needed. Crowding steams instead of roasts and you will lose the caramelized edges.
4. Roast undisturbed. Roast for 20 minutes without touching them. The cut sides need time against the hot pan to develop color.
5. Toss and finish roasting. After 20 minutes, toss everything once and return to the oven for another 8–10 minutes, until the potatoes are fork-tender and the Brussels sprouts have crispy outer leaves.
6. Add the lemon. Pull the pan from the oven and immediately drizzle the lemon juice over everything. Scatter the lemon zest and chopped parsley on top. Toss once more right on the pan.
7. Serve. Transfer to a serving dish, finish with a pinch of flaky sea salt, and serve hot. Goes alongside corned beef like they were always meant to be together.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 185 | Protein: 5g | Fat: 7g | Carbs: 28g | Fiber: 5g | Sodium: 340mg