By Danny's birthday week again. He would have been twenty-seven — actually, wait. Born 1996. This is 2022. He'd be twenty-six. Same age as me. The parallel tracks of our lives, except one track stopped and the other kept going. I'm twenty-five, he'd be twenty-six. He was always a few months older. He used to lord it over me: "I'm older, I get the front seat." "I'm older, I pick the movie." Stupid stuff. The kind of stuff you'd give anything to hear again.
I went to Holy Cross on Saturday morning. Warm August morning, the grass freshly cut, the headstones bright in the sun. Rachel Katz had left yellow flowers again. I sat with Danny and told him about Door County and Megan and the walleye I cooked and the sour beer fermenting in a barrel at the brewery. I told him life is good, which felt strange to say at a cemetery, but he'd want to know. He'd want to know I'm okay.
Megan made me breakfast when I got home. French toast — her one reliable recipe. She uses too much cinnamon and not enough egg and the bread is always a little soggy in the middle and it's perfect because she makes it with her hands and her love and her total disregard for recipe instructions.
At the brewery, the sour beer is developing. Four months in the barrel. I pulled a sample — tart, funky, with a lemon brightness that I wasn't expecting. It needs more time. Good things need more time. The head brewer tasted it and said, "Huh." From him, "huh" means he's interested. I'll take it.
Made ribs for Sunday dinner at Tom and Linda's — baby backs, rubbed with my standard blend, smoked for five hours. Brought them over in a foil tray. Tom ate a full rack. Linda ate three ribs and a salad and said, "The ribs are good but you need a vegetable." Mothers. Even when you're twenty-five and smoke ribs like a professional, you need a vegetable.
Linda wasn’t wrong — the ribs were the main event, but a full rack of baby backs and a foil tray don’t exactly cover all the food groups. After five hours at the smoker, the last thing I wanted to fuss over was a side, so I started keeping this simple potato dish in my back pocket for exactly these occasions: big table, hungry people, no drama. It feeds a crowd without asking much of you, which on a Sunday when you’ve already given everything to the smoke and the rub, is exactly what you need.
Potatoes for a Crowd
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 1 hr | Total Time: 1 hr 15 min | Servings: 10–12
Ingredients
- 5 lbs Yukon Gold or red potatoes, cut into 1-inch chunks
- 1/3 cup olive oil
- 1 1/2 teaspoons garlic powder
- 1 1/2 teaspoons onion powder
- 1 teaspoon smoked paprika
- 1 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
- 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
- 1/2 teaspoon dried rosemary
- 1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper (optional)
- 3 tablespoons fresh flat-leaf parsley, chopped, for garnish
Instructions
- Preheat the oven. Heat your oven to 425°F. Line two large rimmed baking sheets with foil and lightly coat with cooking spray.
- Prep the potatoes. Scrub the potatoes well and cut into roughly equal 1-inch chunks so they cook evenly. No need to peel — the skins add texture and hold everything together.
- Season. In a large bowl, toss the potato chunks with olive oil until fully coated. Add the garlic powder, onion powder, smoked paprika, salt, black pepper, rosemary, and cayenne if using. Toss again until every piece is evenly seasoned.
- Spread and roast. Divide the potatoes between the two prepared baking sheets in a single layer, making sure pieces aren’t crowded or they’ll steam instead of roast. Roast for 45–55 minutes, flipping once halfway through, until golden brown and crisp on the edges and tender in the center.
- Finish and serve. Transfer to a large serving bowl or platter. Taste for salt and adjust. Scatter fresh parsley over the top and serve hot. These hold well covered in foil for up to 30 minutes if you’re timing them around smoked ribs.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 210 | Protein: 3g | Fat: 8g | Carbs: 33g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 210mg