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Southwestern Potatoes — The Side Dish That Belongs at Every Fish Fry

Took Kai fishing at Fort Gibson Lake on Saturday. He's three and can't cast a rod yet, so I gave him a cane pole with a bobber and a worm and set him up on the bank while I fished from the shore beside him. Fort Gibson is where Dad used to take me — catfish, crappie, the occasional bass — and the lake hasn't changed even though everything else has. The water is still green-brown and flat and the redbuds still hang over the edges and the catfish still lurk at the bottom waiting for something dumb enough to drift down.

Kai caught a bluegill the size of his hand. The look on his face when the bobber went under — that jolt of surprise and delight — is the same look I must have had at his age, the same look every kid has had since the first kid put a line in the water. Some experiences are universal. Fishing is one of them. The bluegill was too small to keep, so I showed Kai how to hold it without getting finned and we put it back. He watched it swim away and said, "Bye, fish," with the solemnity of a diplomat, and I loved him so much I had to look at the lake for a minute.

I caught three catfish — two channels and a blue — big enough to keep. Brought them home and filleted them in the garage while Kai watched from a safe distance, asking his four hundred daily questions about the process. Catfish is the fish I grew up on, the fish Dad caught and Mom fried, the fish that sat in the center of Friday dinners at the Turley house along with hush puppies and coleslaw and whatever else Mom had going. Catfish is the common denominator of Oklahoma — Cherokee families eat it, Black families eat it, white families eat it. It might be the most democratic food in the state.

I fried the catfish Saturday night. Cornmeal crust, oil so hot it spits when you breathe near it, cooked until the outside is crunchy and the inside flakes apart like a love letter. Hannah made hush puppies from a recipe her mother gave her — Cherokee hush puppies, which are basically the same as everybody else's hush puppies because corn is corn is corn, but Hannah says the Cherokee version is older and she might be right and I'm not going to argue because that argument has no winner.

I drove a plate to Mom and Dad's. Dad ate two pieces, slowly, with hot sauce that Mom tried to take away because it's not good for him, and Dad looked at her the way he looks at her — stubborn, loving, final — and she let him keep the hot sauce. Some battles aren't worth winning when the man you love is eating catfish with hot sauce and smiling for the first time all week.

Every time I fry catfish, I want the whole table to feel like that Friday night spread Mom used to put together — hush puppies, coleslaw, something hearty and a little spicy to round it all out. These Southwestern Potatoes have been in our rotation long enough that Kai already knows to ask for them by name, and they come together fast enough that I can have them ready before the last batch of fish comes out of the oil. Smoky, crispy, and bold enough to hold their own next to a cornmeal crust — they belong at a fish fry the same way hot sauce belongs on Dad’s plate.

Southwestern Potatoes

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 25 minutes | Total Time: 35 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

  • 2 lbs Yukon Gold or red potatoes, diced into 3/4-inch cubes
  • 2 tablespoons olive oil
  • 1 teaspoon smoked paprika
  • 1 teaspoon chili powder
  • 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
  • 1/2 teaspoon onion powder
  • 1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
  • 1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper (or to taste)
  • 3/4 teaspoon kosher salt
  • 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
  • 1 red bell pepper, diced
  • 1/2 yellow onion, diced
  • 2 tablespoons fresh cilantro, chopped (optional, for garnish)

Instructions

  1. Parboil the potatoes. Place diced potatoes in a medium saucepan and cover with cold salted water. Bring to a boil over high heat and cook for 5–6 minutes, until just barely fork-tender but still firm. Drain well and pat dry with paper towels — this step is key to getting them crispy.
  2. Mix the seasoning. In a small bowl, combine the smoked paprika, chili powder, garlic powder, onion powder, cumin, cayenne, salt, and black pepper. Stir to combine.
  3. Season the potatoes. Toss the drained, dried potatoes in a large bowl with 1 tablespoon of the olive oil and all of the spice blend until evenly coated.
  4. Sear the potatoes. Heat the remaining 1 tablespoon of olive oil in a large cast-iron or heavy skillet over medium-high heat until shimmering. Add the seasoned potatoes in a single layer. Cook without stirring for 4–5 minutes, until the bottom forms a golden-brown crust. Stir and repeat, turning every few minutes, until potatoes are crispy on multiple sides, about 12–15 minutes total.
  5. Add the vegetables. Push the potatoes to the edges of the pan and add the diced bell pepper and onion to the center. Cook, stirring the vegetables occasionally and folding them into the potatoes, for 4–5 minutes until the peppers and onion are softened and lightly charred at the edges.
  6. Taste and serve. Taste and adjust seasoning with additional salt or cayenne as needed. Transfer to a serving dish and garnish with fresh cilantro if desired. Serve immediately alongside fried catfish, hush puppies, or coleslaw.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 230 | Protein: 4g | Fat: 7g | Carbs: 38g | Fiber: 4g | Sodium: 390mg

Jesse Whitehawk
About the cook who shared this
Jesse Whitehawk
Week 12 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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