Rosemary Sweet Potato Fries

June 2022 and the garden was in and running. The summer had started well—good rains in May, warm enough to push the tomatoes fast, the bean rows filling out. Kai's section had cucumbers coming up straight and vigorous and he was checking on them every day with the focus of a person who has invested something real in an outcome.

I did two catering events this month through Art—a tribal council recognition dinner and a youth powwow. The recognition dinner was three hundred people and required the full traditional spread. I was lead on the bean bread and the fry bread and coordinated the kanuchi with one of Art's other staff who'd done it before. The youth powwow was smaller, maybe eighty, but younger audience, which meant different food choices and different energy in the room. Kids are honest in a way adults aren't—if the food is good they go back three times, and if it's not they don't come back at all.

After the powwow a teenage girl came to the serving table and asked me what bean bread was made of. I explained it. She asked how long it took to make. I said a full day properly. She said that seemed like a lot. I said most things worth having take a long time. She thought about this and took a second piece of bread and walked away. I hope that lands somewhere useful for her eventually.

Hannah and I took Kai to the Cherokee National Holiday at the end of the month. Walking the grounds in the summer heat with a nine-year-old and a thermos of water, eating fry bread and watching the stomp dancers and listening to the language in the air around us—I felt it the way you feel a place that belongs to you. This is the center. Everything else orbits it.

The bean bread and fry bread I make at catering events take a full day and a practiced hand — they belong to ceremony and community and I don’t bring shortcuts to them. But when I came home from the National Holiday that evening, still carrying the warmth of the stomp dancers and Kai’s sticky hands and the sound of the language in the air, I wanted something from the ground up, something that required almost nothing of me except attention. Sweet potatoes have been part of this land longer than any recipe card, and rosemary grows in my garden ten feet from where Kai checks his cucumbers every morning. This is the quiet version of the same impulse — feed people with what the land offers, and don’t overcomplicate it.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 30 minutes | Total Time: 40 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

2 large sweet potatoes (about 2 lbs), scrubbed and cut into 1/4-inch sticks
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 tablespoon fresh rosemary, finely chopped (or 1 teaspoon dried)
3/4 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1/4 teaspoon smoked paprika

Instructions

Preheat the oven. Set oven to 425°F. Line two large rimmed baking sheets with parchment paper and place them in the oven while it preheats — a hot pan helps the fries crisp rather than steam.
Cut and dry the potatoes. Cut sweet potatoes into even 1/4-inch sticks. Spread on a clean kitchen towel and pat as dry as you can. Moisture is the enemy of crispness.
Season. In a large bowl, toss the sweet potato sticks with olive oil, rosemary, salt, garlic powder, pepper, and smoked paprika until evenly coated.
Arrange on pans. Carefully remove the hot baking sheets from the oven. Spread the fries in a single layer with space between each piece — crowding causes steaming. Use both pans if needed.
Roast. Roast for 15 minutes, then flip each fry with a thin spatula. Return to the oven and roast another 12–15 minutes, until the edges are caramelized and the fries are tender through.
Rest and serve. Let the fries rest on the pan for 2 minutes before serving — they crisp slightly as they cool. Taste and add a pinch more salt if needed.

Nutrition (per serving)

Rosemary Sweet Potato Fries — Rooted in What the Land Gives Us