April. The snow is pulling back to the mountaintops and the pastures are going green — not all at once, not dramatically, but in patches, like the earth remembering what it does after winter. The calves are coming. We've got fifteen heifers due this month and Dad's been checking them twice a day, morning and evening, walking the pasture with his slightly stiff knees and his practiced eye, looking for the signs — the swollen udder, the restlessness, the way a cow separates from the herd when she's ready.
I went with him this morning. 5 AM, headlamp and mud boots, the air cold enough to see your breath but with a softness underneath that says spring is actually here this time, not just visiting. We found a heifer in the far corner of the calving pasture, already in labor, and we watched. Dad and I stood twenty yards back and watched her work and neither of us said a word because the process doesn't need words. Twenty minutes and there was a calf on the ground, wet and confused and immediately trying to stand on legs that didn't work yet. The heifer turned and licked it and something in me cracked a little — not in the bad way, not the way things have been cracking since March 8, but in the way that light gets through a crack. New life, stupid and beautiful and completely unaware of the world it just entered. The calf stood. Wobbled. Fell. Stood again. That's the whole lesson, isn't it.
Therapy on Tuesday. Dr. Kessler asked about the drinking. I told him the truth — I'd been drinking since I got home. Whiskey. Not every day but most days. Enough to sleep. He didn't lecture. He said, "Is it working?" I said, "It makes the quiet louder." He wrote that down. I don't know what the right answer was. I don't know if there is one.
I made cowboy coffee this morning — boiled in a percolator on the stove, the way Dad makes it, the way his father made it, strong enough to stand a spoon in. Added a splash of cream from the neighbor's dairy cow and drank it on the porch watching the sun hit the Bull Mountains. Then I fried eggs — three, over easy, in bacon grease — and ate them with toast and watched another heifer moving slow along the fence line, getting ready. More calves coming. More new starts. The ranch doesn't care about my damage. It just keeps making life. There's something in that. I'm not sure what yet.
That morning on the porch, with the coffee and the eggs and the heifer moving slow along the fence — something in me wanted to stay in that. Just keep making simple things with my hands. So I pulled out the waffle iron, which I’d been meaning to try for hash browns since Dad mentioned it a few weeks back, and I figured if the ranch keeps making life whether I’m ready or not, I can at least make breakfast. Here’s how I did it.
Waffle Iron Hash Browns
Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 15 min | Total Time: 25 min | Servings: 2–3
Ingredients
- 2 large russet potatoes (about 1 1/2 lbs), peeled
- 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
- 1/2 teaspoon onion powder
- 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
- 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
- 2 tablespoons butter, melted (or bacon grease for extra flavor)
- Cooking spray or additional butter for the waffle iron
Instructions
- Grate the potatoes. Using a box grater or food processor, shred the peeled potatoes on the coarse side. Transfer to a clean kitchen towel or several layers of paper towels.
- Wring out the moisture. Gather the towel around the grated potatoes and twist firmly over the sink, squeezing out as much liquid as you can. This step is what gets you crispy instead of soggy—don’t rush it.
- Season. Add the dried shreds to a mixing bowl. Toss with garlic powder, onion powder, salt, pepper, and melted butter (or bacon grease). Mix until evenly coated.
- Heat the waffle iron. Preheat your waffle iron to medium-high. Spray or brush both plates with cooking spray or a thin coat of butter.
- Cook in batches. Pack a generous handful of the potato mixture onto the center of the lower waffle plate, spreading it toward the edges. Close the iron and press down firmly. Cook 6–8 minutes without opening, until steam slows and the edges look golden.
- Check and finish. Open carefully—the hash brown should release cleanly and be deep golden on both sides. If it sticks or looks pale, close and cook another 2 minutes. Transfer to a wire rack to stay crisp while you cook the remaining batches.
- Season and serve. Hit with a pinch of flaky salt straight off the iron. Serve alongside fried eggs and strong coffee.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 210 | Protein: 4g | Fat: 8g | Carbs: 32g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 310mg