Meat and Potato Patties

February 2022. Winter in Memphis, 63 years old, and the cold has settled into the house on Deadrick Avenue the way cold settles into old bones — persistently, without malice, just the physics of aging and December. Rosetta has the thermostat set at 74, our eternal compromise, and I cook warming things: stews and soups and slow-braised meats that fill the house with steam and flavor.

Rosetta beside me through the week, steady as ever, the woman who runs this household with the precision of a hospital ward and the heart of a mother who has loved fiercely for 38 years of marriage. Walter Jr. came by with the grandchildren, bringing the noise and energy that grandchildren bring, the house expanding to hold them the way a good pot expands to hold a good stew.

Comfort food this week: a big pot of collard greens with smoked turkey neck, simmered for three hours until the greens were dark and silky and the pot liquor was a treasure. The kitchen smelled like Mama's kitchen in the shotgun house, and I stood at the stove and stirred and thought about hands — her hands, small and strong, teaching mine everything they know about turning humble ingredients into something that feeds not just the body but the soul.

I sat in the lawn chair next to Uncle Clyde's smoker as the dark came on, and I thought about what I always think about: the chain. From Clyde to me. From me to Trey, maybe, or Jerome, or whoever comes next with the patience and the hands and the willingness to stand next to a fire at three in the morning and wait for something good to happen. The chain doesn't break. The fire doesn't stop. And I am here, 63 years old, in a lawn chair in Orange Mound, Memphis, Tennessee, watching the smoke rise, and the rising is the living, and the living is the gift.

That week in February, standing at the stove stirring collard greens and thinking about Mama’s hands, I was reminded that the best food doesn’t ask much of you — just patience, and the willingness to show up. These meat and potato patties are that kind of food: humble, honest, and warming all the way through. When Walter Jr. and the grandchildren came by, a pan of these on the stove would have felt just right — the kind of supper that holds a full table together the same way a good fire holds a cold night at bay.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 40 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

1 lb ground beef (80/20)
1 1/2 cups russet potatoes, peeled and finely grated
1/4 cup yellow onion, finely grated or minced
1 egg, lightly beaten
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
1/2 teaspoon onion powder
1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
3/4 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
2 tablespoons vegetable oil, for pan-frying

Instructions

Prep the potatoes. Peel and finely grate the russet potatoes. Wrap the grated potato in a clean kitchen towel and squeeze out as much moisture as possible. This step keeps the patties from steaming instead of searing.
Mix the patties. In a large bowl, combine the ground beef, squeezed potato, onion, egg, garlic powder, onion powder, smoked paprika, salt, and pepper. Mix gently with your hands until just combined — do not overwork the meat.
Form the patties. Divide the mixture into 4 equal portions and press each into a round patty about 3/4 inch thick. Press a slight indent in the center of each patty with your thumb to prevent puffing during cooking.
Heat the pan. Heat a large cast iron or heavy skillet over medium-high heat. Add the vegetable oil and let it shimmer before adding the patties.
Cook the patties. Place patties in the hot pan without crowding. Cook undisturbed for 5—6 minutes on the first side until a deep brown crust forms. Flip once and cook an additional 5—6 minutes until cooked through and the internal temperature reads 160°F.
Rest and serve. Transfer patties to a plate and let rest for 3 minutes before serving. Serve alongside pan gravy, collard greens, or roasted vegetables.

Nutrition (per serving)

Meat and Potato Patties — The Kind of Supper That Feeds the Soul