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Rosti — The Potato Side That Belonged on a Memorial Day Table

Memorial Day. The cemetery. Just me and Erik — masked, distanced, standing at Pappa's grave and Lars's grave. And now Paul's grave. Paul is buried at Park Hill Cemetery, in a plot beside the spot reserved for me. The headstone isn't ready yet — it takes months — but the grave is there, the dirt still fresh, the grass not yet grown over. I stood at the edge of the fresh dirt and I looked at it and I thought: the last time I stood at a grave that was this fresh, it was Pappa's, and I was thirty-eight, and Paul was beside me, and his hand was in mine. No hand in mine this time. Just the dirt and the wind and Erik beside me, saying nothing, holding his thermos of coffee, being Erik. I cleaned Pappa's headstone. I cleaned Lars's headstone. I replaced the Swedish flags. I said, out loud, because I talk out loud now and it doesn't matter who hears: "Pappa, Lars, this is Paul. He's joining you. Be kind to him. He'll want to talk about shipwrecks." Erik made a sound that might have been a laugh. Then he said — the most words Erik has said at a cemetery in forty years: "Paul would have liked this spot. He can see the lake." I looked. Erik was right. From Paul's grave, through the trees, you can see the lake. Not clearly — but the blue shows through, the water visible, the Lake Superior that Paul loved more than anything except his family. He can see the lake. Erik, who noticed. Erik, the man of few words and many observations. We went to Mamma's afterward. Doorstep visit — COVID protocol. She sat inside, we stood outside, six feet of porch between us. She'd baked vetebröd and put it on a plate on the railing. We ate the bread standing on the steps and the bread was warm and the cardamom was perfect and Mamma watched us eat through the window and the eating was a visit and the visit was love and the love crossed the six feet without difficulty. I made a Memorial Day dinner: deviled eggs and ham sandwiches and the Swedish potato salad. The picnic food. The Leif Erikson Park food. I ate it at the kitchen table, alone, with two places set, and I remembered every picnic, the way Paul asked me to remember. All of them. Every single one. Memorial Day. Three graves now instead of two. The lake visible from each one. Paul can see the lake. That's enough. That's everything.

When I make the Memorial Day meal, it has to be the picnic food — it just has to be. The deviled eggs, the sandwiches, the Swedish potato salad — all of it comes from the same place: Leif Erikson Park, every summer, Paul with a paper plate and a story about a shipwreck. This year I set two places at the kitchen table and made rösti alongside everything else, because a good potato dish has always been the most Swedish thing I know how to do, and doing something Swedish felt like keeping a hand in mine. It’s simple. It’s honest. It’s exactly what a table set for memory deserves.

Rosti

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

Ingredients

  • 1 1/2 lbs Yukon Gold potatoes (about 4 medium), scrubbed
  • 1 teaspoon kosher salt
  • 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
  • 3 tablespoons unsalted butter, divided
  • 1 tablespoon neutral oil (such as canola or sunflower)

Instructions

  1. Parboil the potatoes. Place whole, unpeeled potatoes in a pot and cover with cold salted water. Bring to a boil and cook for 10–12 minutes, until just barely tender when pierced with a knife but still firm at the center. Drain and let cool completely — at least 1 hour, or refrigerate overnight for best results.
  2. Grate and season. Peel the cooled potatoes and grate them coarsely on a box grater into a large bowl. Season with salt and pepper and toss gently to combine. Do not over-mix or the potatoes will become gummy.
  3. Melt the fat. Heat 2 tablespoons of the butter and the oil in a 10-inch nonstick or cast-iron skillet over medium heat until the butter is foamy and just beginning to turn golden.
  4. Form the cake. Add the grated potato mixture to the skillet and press it firmly into an even, flat round with a spatula. Work quickly so the potatoes make full contact with the pan.
  5. Cook the first side. Cook undisturbed over medium heat for 8–10 minutes, until the bottom is deep golden brown and crisp. Shake the pan occasionally to prevent sticking.
  6. Flip and finish. Slide the rösti onto a large plate, then invert it back into the skillet (browned side up). Add the remaining tablespoon of butter around the edges and cook for another 7–9 minutes, until the second side is equally golden and crisp.
  7. Serve. Slide onto a cutting board and cut into wedges. Serve immediately alongside deviled eggs, cold ham, or any picnic spread that carries a memory with it.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 215 | Protein: 3g | Fat: 11g | Carbs: 28g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 380mg

Linda Johansson
About the cook who shared this
Linda Johansson
Week 219 of Linda’s 30-year story · Duluth, Minnesota
Linda is a sixty-three-year-old retired nurse from Duluth, Minnesota, living alone in the house where she raised her children and said goodbye to her husband. She lost Paul to ALS in 2020 after two years of watching the kindest man she'd ever known lose everything but his dignity. She cooks Scandinavian comfort food and Minnesota hotdish and the pot roast Paul loved, and she sets two places at the table out of habit because it makes her feel less alone. Every recipe she writes is a person she's loved.

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