Red Potato Skewers

I listed 4 new properties this week — each one a different story, a different kitchen, a different family waiting to happen. The spring market is alive with the particular energy of people who have decided this is the year they change their address and their life.

I drove to Tarpon Springs for Sunday dinner. The drive takes forty minutes if the traffic behaves. It never behaves. But I make the drive because the table at Mama's house is non-negotiable, and Sunday dinner is the thread that holds this family together.

The bakery smelled like honey this morning when I stopped by. That smell — warm honey and butter and the faint yeast of dough rising — is the smell of my childhood and my mother and my father and every Sunday morning of my life. Some smells are time machines. The bakery is mine.

I made Greek salad wraps — everything from a horiatiki rolled in warm pita with hummus. Sophia called them genius. I called them Tuesday. We ate at the kitchen table, just the two of us, and for a moment the house was not quiet or loud — it was exactly right. Full. Fed. The sound of forks on plates is the sound I love most in this world.

The olive oil in my kitchen is from a Greek import shop in Tampa that sources from Kalamata. It is expensive. It is worth it. I use it on everything — salads, fish, bread, vegetables, the edge of a pot of soup — because olive oil is not a condiment in this family, it is a philosophy. Use it generously. Use it without apology. Use it the way you use love: poured freely, never measured, always more than you think you need.

The wraps were the heart of that Tuesday dinner, but the side dish I keep coming back to — the one Mama has set on the table at Sunday dinners since before I was old enough to reach it — is something far simpler: red potatoes on a skewer, kissed with olive oil and oregano and left to get golden and a little crisp at the edges. It is the kind of dish that asks nothing of you and gives everything back. After a week of four new listings and forty minutes of Tampa traffic and a kitchen that smelled like honey before I even had my coffee, this is the recipe I reach for — because some things should be easy, and dinner is one of them.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 20 min | Total Time: 35 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

1 1/2 lbs small red potatoes, scrubbed and halved
3 tablespoons good olive oil (do not skimp)
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon dried oregano
1/2 teaspoon dried rosemary, crumbled
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1/4 teaspoon smoked paprika
2 tablespoons fresh flat-leaf parsley, roughly chopped (for finishing)
Wooden or metal skewers (if wooden, soak 30 minutes in water)

Instructions

Parboil the potatoes. Place halved potatoes in a pot of cold salted water. Bring to a boil and cook for 8–10 minutes, until just fork-tender but not falling apart. Drain and let cool slightly so they hold on the skewer.
Make the seasoning oil. In a small bowl, whisk together the olive oil, garlic, oregano, rosemary, salt, pepper, and paprika. Let it sit for a few minutes so the garlic blooms in the oil.
Thread the skewers. Thread the potato halves onto skewers, cut side out, pressing them snugly together. Brush generously on all sides with the seasoning oil, reserving a little for finishing.
Grill or broil. For the grill: cook over medium-high heat for 4–5 minutes per side until the cut faces are golden and lightly charred. For the oven: broil on a foil-lined baking sheet about 6 inches from the heat for 5–6 minutes per side, watching closely.
Finish and serve. Transfer skewers to a platter, brush with any remaining seasoning oil, and scatter fresh parsley over the top. Serve hot, directly from the skewer or slid onto a plate alongside whatever else is on the table.

Nutrition (per serving)

Red Potato Skewers — The Side That Always Finds Its Way to the Sunday Table