Sweet Potato Latkes

Three weeks to Huong's arrival. Mai's house looks like it's being prepared for a state visit. The spare bedroom has new curtains, new bedding, and a small vase of chrysanthemums on the nightstand. The kitchen has been reorganized — Mai rearranged the spice shelf to make room for Da Nang ingredients she ordered from a Vietnamese market in Orange County that ships nationwide. There are now six types of chili paste in her refrigerator. I asked if six was necessary. She said, "Huong uses a different chili paste." I did not ask further questions.

I've been stockpiling ingredients for the arrival feast: two cases of rice noodles, five pounds of shrimp, three pounds of pork belly, lemongrass from Mai's garden (she grows it year-round in a planter on the porch), tamarind paste, fish sauce (three bottles — Huong may prefer a different brand), and the specific rice paper from Central Vietnam that's thicker than the southern kind. Mai has opinions about rice paper thickness. I have learned not to have counter-opinions.

Ava took her first steps this week. Not steps, exactly — more like a controlled fall forward that happened to involve her feet. She was standing at the coffee table, let go, took two lurching steps toward Emma's outstretched hands, and collapsed into her mother's arms. Emma cried. Ava laughed. I was watching from the couch and I said nothing because the lump in my throat was the size of a brisket and words were not available. Two steps. That's all. But those two steps contained the entire future — a girl walking toward her mother, toward her life, toward all the years that stretch ahead like a road that hasn't been built yet but will be, step by step, the way everything good is built.

Made a celebratory dinner (the steps deserved celebration, though Ava was unaware of the fuss): smoked chicken thighs with the nuoc cham glaze. Quick, satisfying, the caramelized fish sauce glaze sticky and sweet against the smoky chicken. I served them with a simple salad of shredded cabbage, herbs, and peanuts dressed in lime and fish sauce. Ava ate puréed sweet potato while the rest of us ate the chicken. Her time will come.

Ava got the puréed sweet potato that night, but I kept thinking about how sweet potatoes were doing double duty at our table — comfort food for the baby, and the quiet inspiration for what I wanted to make the next time we had something to celebrate. These sweet potato latkes are everything that dinner called for: golden and crispy on the outside, tender and sweet inside, quick enough to pull together on a weeknight, and special enough to feel like a real occasion. When you’re marking someone’s first steps, even the sides should be worth remembering.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 20 min | Total Time: 35 min | Servings: 4 (about 12 latkes)

Ingredients

1 1/2 lbs sweet potatoes (about 2 large), peeled and coarsely grated
1 small yellow onion, coarsely grated
2 large eggs, lightly beaten
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon smoked paprika
Vegetable oil or neutral oil, for frying (about 1/3 cup)
Sour cream or applesauce, for serving
Thinly sliced scallions, for garnish (optional)

Instructions

Remove excess moisture. Place the grated sweet potato and onion in the center of a clean kitchen towel or several layers of cheesecloth. Gather the edges and twist firmly over the sink, wringing out as much liquid as possible. This step is critical — dry shreds mean crispier latkes.
Make the batter. Transfer the wrung-out sweet potato and onion to a large bowl. Add the beaten eggs, flour, salt, pepper, cinnamon, and smoked paprika. Stir until evenly combined.
Heat the oil. Pour oil into a large heavy-bottomed skillet (cast iron works great) to a depth of about 1/4 inch. Heat over medium-high until the oil shimmers and a small drop of batter sizzles immediately on contact.
Form and fry the latkes. Working in batches to avoid crowding, drop heaping 2-tablespoon portions of batter into the hot oil. Use the back of a spoon or spatula to press each mound into a flat round, about 3 inches across. Fry for 3 to 4 minutes until the edges look set and the underside is deep golden brown.
Flip and finish. Carefully flip each latke and cook for another 3 minutes until golden and cooked through. Transfer to a plate lined with paper towels. Repeat with remaining batter, adding more oil to the pan as needed and letting it return to temperature between batches.
Season and serve. Season the hot latkes with a light pinch of flaky salt. Serve immediately with sour cream or applesauce alongside, and scatter scallions over the top if you like.

Nutrition (per serving)

Sweet Potato Latkes — A First-Steps Celebration for the Whole Table