Lemon Rosemary Crispy Smashed Potatoes

Brandon made breakfast on Saturday — pancakes from a box, as is the custom — and I drank my coffee and let him. The week was a summer week, the kind where the light through the kitchen window arrives at a particular angle and the freezer hums in a different register depending on the temperature in the garage. I made notes in my prep notebook on Sunday afternoon, the way I always do: meal name, ingredient list, cost per serving, prep time, freezer instructions. Twenty-eight bags. Two hours and eleven minutes. A little slow this week, by my standards, but Brandon was helping and the conversation was good, and I have learned, slowly and against my own grain, that the conversation is sometimes the point and the time is sometimes a courtesy I extend to my husband for being willing to chop onions on a Sunday afternoon.

The children are doing what they do, which is the central report of every week of my adult life. Ethan is 21, in Manila on his mission, and his last email mentioned a chicken adobo so good he is going to make me make it when he comes home. Olivia is 19, at BYU studying elementary education — the path she chose at age seven and has not deviated from once. Mason, 16, is in Brazil on his mission. His weekly emails are short and full of jokes. He does not write much about the work. He writes about the food. Lily is 14, in high school, asking the kind of questions in Sunday School that make the teachers uncomfortable, which I find difficult and also, secretly, admirable. Noah is 12, the comedian, the performer — the kid who does an impression of my disappointed face in front of company, and gets away with it. That is the family report. I do not have a system for these reports. I just listen and remember and call back when I said I would call back, which is most of the time and not all of the time, and the difference between most and all is the territory of motherhood.

The recipe of the week was Hawaiian chicken, which I have made some specific number of times in my life and have refined to a system that I now hand to other people in printed form. The version I made this week fed eight, cost under fifteen dollars, and required twenty-six minutes of active prep, which is within my requirements and not a coincidence. The freezer in the garage is the freezer of record. The freezer in the pantry is the freezer of convenience. The distinction matters. I have stopped explaining the freezer-meal philosophy to people who already follow my work, and I have stopped apologizing for it to people who do not. The philosophy is simple: tomorrow is coming whether you are ready or not. You can either be ready or not. I pick ready.

I prayed on Thursday morning for the first time in two weeks, which the therapist would call worth noting. I noted it. I am still a Latter-day Saint. I am also a woman who has sat in front of a casket the size of a bread box. I do not see those two things as contradictions, but I do not pretend they sit easily together either. The bench in the chapel where I sit on Sunday is the same bench. The woman is not. The faith makes room for the woman. That is what I have learned to ask of it.

Dinner is in the freezer. Tomorrow is coming. I am ready.

Ethan’s email about chicken adobo has been sitting in the back of my mind all week — that specific kind of longing a missionary has for food that means something — and it reminded me that the best meals aren’t always the main event. Sometimes it’s the side dish that anchors everything. These lemon rosemary crispy smashed potatoes are what I made to round out Sunday’s prep: they’re sharp and herby in a way that cuts through heavier proteins, they come together inside of an hour, and they hold up in a way that rewards a little forethought. Brandon ate three of them standing at the counter before I could get them into a container, which I am choosing to take as a compliment.

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 50 min | Total Time: 1 hr | Servings: 6

Ingredients

2 lbs small baby or Yukon Gold potatoes (roughly uniform in size)
3 tablespoons olive oil, divided
1 tablespoon fresh rosemary, finely chopped (or 1 teaspoon dried)
1 teaspoon lemon zest
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more for boiling water
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
Flaky sea salt, for finishing
Optional: fresh parsley or extra lemon wedges for serving

Instructions

Boil the potatoes. Place potatoes in a large pot and cover with cold, well-salted water. Bring to a boil over high heat and cook until fork-tender all the way through, about 20–25 minutes. Drain and let steam-dry for 5 minutes.
Preheat the oven. While potatoes cook, heat oven to 425°F. Line a large rimmed baking sheet with foil or parchment and drizzle with 1 1/2 tablespoons of the olive oil, spreading it across the pan.
Make the lemon rosemary marinade. In a small bowl, whisk together the remaining 1 1/2 tablespoons olive oil, rosemary, lemon zest, lemon juice, garlic, salt, and pepper. Set aside.
Smash the potatoes. Arrange the drained potatoes on the prepared baking sheet. Use the flat bottom of a drinking glass or a potato masher to press each potato down firmly until it’s about 1/2 inch thick. They should be flattened but still holding together.
Season and roast. Spoon or brush the lemon rosemary mixture evenly over the smashed potatoes. Roast in the preheated oven for 25–30 minutes, until the edges are deeply golden and crispy. Do not flip — let the bottoms build a crust.
Finish and serve. Remove from the oven and finish with a pinch of flaky sea salt. Serve immediately with extra lemon wedges and fresh parsley if desired. For meal prep, cool completely before storing in an airtight container. Reheat in a 400°F oven for 10–12 minutes to restore crispiness.

Nutrition (per serving)

Lemon Rosemary Crispy Smashed Potatoes — The Side Dish That Earns Its Place on a Prep Sunday