Potato Galette -- The Saturday Standard, Crisp at the Edges

Pumpkin patches in Snohomish. Amazon this week. Sprint planning Tuesday. Two hours of meetings I could have been a Slack message.

Hana, 1, a small loud animal. She mostly eats rice and bananas. Jisoo FaceTimed Tuesday. We made doenjang jjigae together — me in Wallingford, her in Haeundae. Eleven thousand miles. The same soup.

Galbi on the grill Saturday. Marinated short ribs. The Korean barbecue Saturday standard.

Drove to Bellevue Saturday. Karen was tired. I brought soft food. She ate.

James fell asleep on the couch with the kids climbing on him. The household was the household.

Jisoo sent a photo of the dol the kids did for our visit last summer. The photo went on the fridge.

Sprint review at Amazon Friday. Two hours. I could have been on a podcast.

The shiso on the south fence is fragrant and unruly. I brushed past it taking the compost out and the smell stopped me. The smell is the country. The smell is Jisoo's apartment.

The newsletter went out Sunday morning. The opening sentence took an hour. The piece took five. The piece was what it needed to be.

Reading at night. A novel by a Korean-American writer about a family in 1990s LA. I underlined four sentences. The underlining is the marking-of-the-territory of the soul.

Rain on the porch all afternoon Saturday. The Wallingford rain is its own weather. I sat with a book and a tea and did not move for two hours.

A blog reader wrote about her own adoptee experience. We exchanged three emails this week.

Sunday farmers market on Wallingford Avenue. The kabocha at the Asian vendor's stall. The shishito peppers. The brokered conversation. We bought too much. We always do.

I sat at the kitchen counter at six AM with a notebook and a cup of green tea. Writing time before the house wakes. The pre-light hour is the only writing hour I trust.

The Capitol Hill apartment kitchen is small. We make it work.

I made coffee at seven. Hana ate cereal at seven-fifteen. Min wandered down at seven-twenty-five. James left for work at eight. The morning was the morning. The standard.

Yoga Tuesday morning at the studio. The forward fold released something I had been carrying in the shoulder. The mat is the mat.

David came over for Sunday dinner. He brought some tomatoes from the Bellevue garden.

My Korean is improving. Slowly. Painfully. Conversationally adequate now. I can argue about kimchi proportions in two languages, which is a milestone in any marriage between mother and daughter.

Hana left a Lego on the kitchen floor. I stepped on it at two AM. Standard.

I read a thread on the Korean Adoptee subreddit Saturday. Some posts brought up old anger. Most are people figuring it out in real time. We are not unique. We are a community.

The kimchi crock was bubbling Saturday morning when I checked. The bubbling is the right bubbling. The fermentation knew what it was doing.

I texted Jisoo a photo of the kimchi in the new onggi pot. She replied with the thumb-up emoji and a Korean-language critique. The duality is the gift.

Therapy Tuesday with Dr. Kim. We talked about the parents — the two sets, the one living, the one gone, the one who became real after thirty years and the one who was real my whole life and is now gone. The work is the layered work.

James and I had date night Friday. Indian restaurant on 45th. We ate too much. We sat in the car after talking about nothing for an hour. The marriage is the marriage.

Galbi was Saturday’s centerpiece — the marinade, the grill, the whole Korean barbecue standard — but it was the potato galette I kept coming back to, the thing that asked for patience and a steady hand while everything else in the house was loud and in motion. There’s something about the careful, layered work of pressing thin slices together in a pan that felt right for a week like this one: the therapy session, the layered grief, the pre-dawn writing hour. You press it together, you wait, you don’t rush it, and it comes out golden and holding its shape.

Potato Galette

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 40 min | Total Time: 1 hr | Servings: 4

Ingredients

• 1 1/2 lbs Yukon Gold potatoes, peeled and sliced 1/8-inch thin
• 3 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
• 1 tablespoon olive oil
• 1 teaspoon kosher salt
• 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
• 1/2 teaspoon fresh thyme leaves
• 1 small clove garlic, minced

Instructions

1. Slice and season. Using a mandoline or sharp knife, slice potatoes to a uniform 1/8-inch thickness. Pat slices dry with paper towels. In a large bowl, toss potato slices with melted butter, olive oil, salt, pepper, thyme, and garlic until evenly coated.
2. Layer the galette. In a 10-inch oven-safe skillet (cast iron works best), arrange potato slices in overlapping concentric circles, starting from the outside edge and working inward. Build 2–3 layers, pressing each layer down gently as you go.
3. Press and sear. Place the skillet over medium heat on the stovetop. Press the potato stack firmly with a spatula. Cook for 8–10 minutes until the bottom layer is golden and beginning to crisp.
4. Roast in the oven. Transfer skillet to a 400°F (200°C) oven. Bake for 25–30 minutes until potatoes are tender throughout when pierced with a knife and the top is lightly golden.
5. Flip and finish. Remove from oven and let rest 5 minutes. Place a large plate over the skillet and carefully invert the galette so the golden crust faces up. Slice into wedges and serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 230 | Protein: 3g | Fat: 11g | Carbs: 31g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 310mg