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Roasted Potatoes, Carrots & Leeks -- The Casserole That Didn’t Need an Announcement

August into September. The shift in light is real now — five o'clock is a different five than it was a month ago, the gold is deeper, the shadows are longer, and the cottonwood by the porch is starting to drop a few yellow leaves a day. Not many. Just enough to notice. Fall is two months out, but fall is putting its hand on the door.

The pawpaws ripened. There are twelve pawpaw trees on the property — six I planted in 2038 alongside the pecans, six that came up wild along the creek and that I let alone after Hannah identified them. The wild ones produce more reliably than the planted ones, which says something I should probably listen to about not interfering with what already knows what to do. The fruits are tropical-tasting in a way that surprises people who don't know pawpaws — like banana and mango and something else, something custard-like, something that doesn't belong in Oklahoma but is from Oklahoma, has been from Oklahoma for thousands of years.

Made pawpaw bread Tuesday. Mash the pulp like banana bread, mix it into a quick bread batter with brown sugar and pecans, bake at 350. The bread came out denser than banana bread, more perfumed. Hannah took half a loaf to the Elohi office. The other half I ate over three days — slice for breakfast, slice for an afternoon, slice with Hannah after dinner. The pawpaws don't keep, the fruit goes from ripe to gone in three days, so the bread is what you do with them, the bread or the puree or the freezing of the pulp for later.

I taught Wednesday. Two students absent — one had a job interview, one had a kid sick. Five in the bay. We worked on overhead welding, which is the technique I dread teaching because it's the technique that wrecked my shoulder and I spend the lesson half-watching their bodies for the same mistakes I made. One of them — the granddaughter of the man from the second cohort — has natural body mechanics for it. She tucks her elbow without being told. I watched her run a bead overhead for thirty seconds and I thought: she's going to weld for forty years and have her shoulder. Mine I sacrificed to learn the wrong way first. Hers I might be able to save by teaching her the right way at twenty.

The shoulder, by the way, is the shoulder. The exercises help. The pain is steady — not worse than last month, not better. I've been ignoring the surgery question for a long time and I'll keep ignoring it as long as I can ignore it usefully. There's a level of pain that's manageable and a level that isn't, and I'm on the manageable side. When I cross over I'll get the surgery. Not before.

Caleb pulled the south fence with me Saturday. Forty more posts. He brought lunch this time — a casserole he made — and that was the moment I noticed he's started cooking. He didn't announce it. The casserole was just there, on the bench seat of his truck, in a foil pan, with a note from his sponsor Art written on it: "Caleb made this. It's good." That's Art's humor. The casserole was good. Cheesy potatoes and ham. Standard church-supper Oklahoma food, and Caleb made it from scratch, and he watched me eat it without saying anything, and I said: this is good. He said: I know. He didn't mean it cocky. He meant: I know I made a thing that's good. That sentence is new in his mouth. I'm hearing it more often.

Caleb’s casserole — cheesy potatoes and ham, foil pan, Art’s note tucked under the lid — is the kind of food that doesn’t announce itself, it just lands. If you want to make something in that same spirit, something rooted and honest that works as a side or carries a meal on its own, this roasted potatoes, carrots, and leeks dish is where I’d start. It’s the same category of food — humble, warm, Oklahoma-practical — and it holds up on a fence-post bench seat just as well as it does at a dinner table.

Roasted Potatoes, Carrots & Leeks

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 45 min | Total Time: 1 hr | Servings: 6

Ingredients

  • 1 1/2 lbs baby potatoes, halved
  • 3 large carrots, peeled and cut into 1-inch pieces
  • 2 medium leeks, white and light green parts only, sliced into 1/2-inch rounds
  • 3 tablespoons olive oil
  • 1 teaspoon garlic powder
  • 1 teaspoon dried thyme
  • 1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
  • 3/4 teaspoon kosher salt
  • 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
  • Fresh parsley, chopped, for garnish (optional)

Instructions

  1. Preheat oven. Heat your oven to 425°F. Line a large rimmed baking sheet with parchment paper or lightly grease it.
  2. Prep the leeks. Slice leeks and rinse thoroughly in a bowl of cold water, swishing to release any grit. Drain and pat dry.
  3. Toss the vegetables. In a large bowl, combine potatoes, carrots, and leeks. Drizzle with olive oil and sprinkle with garlic powder, thyme, smoked paprika, salt, and pepper. Toss well until everything is evenly coated.
  4. Arrange and roast. Spread vegetables in a single layer on the prepared baking sheet, cut sides of potatoes facing down. Roast for 40—45 minutes, stirring once halfway through, until potatoes are golden and tender and carrot edges are caramelized.
  5. Finish and serve. Remove from oven and let rest 5 minutes. Garnish with fresh parsley if desired and serve warm.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 195 | Protein: 3g | Fat: 7g | Carbs: 31g | Fiber: 4g | Sodium: 310mg

Jesse Whitehawk
About the cook who shared this
Jesse Whitehawk
Week 421 of Jesse’s 30-year story · Tulsa, Oklahoma
Jesse is a thirty-nine-year-old welder, a Cherokee Nation citizen, and a married dad of three in Tulsa who cooks over open fire because that's how his grandpa Charlie did it and his grandpa's grandpa did it before him. His food draws from Cherokee tradition, Mexican heritage from his mother's side, and Oklahoma BBQ culture. He forages wild onions every spring and makes grape dumplings in the fall, and he considers both acts of cultural survival.

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