You Like Potato, I Like Pot-aaah-toe

Preparations for Christmas dinner are in full swing chez Fractured Amy. This time of year I go into a requisition mode that would be the envy of any army: lists are retrieved from their appropriate files, shopping accomplished with efficiency (if not economy); and the refrigerator and larder stocked so no supermarket visits of any kind will be required between December 23 and December 28. Quite honestly, if I'd been Napoleon's quartermaster, today they'd be speaking French and eating moules in Moscow.

The key is organization.

And, it must be said, predictability. Christmas dinner at our house means a traditional English roast dinner. Sir would not have it any other way and I am happy to oblige, since it leaves me off the hook for the rest of the year. The menu is comfortably unvarying: roast beast (which Sir insists on calling 'the joint'); proper roast potatoes; Yorkshire pudding (gluten-free this year, but more on that in a future posting), and two vegetables: one is always my famous pear and parsnip puree, although the other - generally a green veg of the family Brassicaceae - is still up for grabs.

Yesterday, I bought the potatoes. As loyal readers are aware, there has in my house been a certain amount of spud kerfuffle lately, with the result being that I am currently buying organic Russets. Skeptical at first, I am now forced to admit that we all prefer the taste and texture of these all-natural tubers. Who knew there would be such a difference between the organic and DDT-filled varieties? I have not carried out a double blind tasting, as good science would normally dictate, because the dissimilarity is so pronounced: the organic specimens are sweeter and fluffier; their skins are softer (though still crispy under the appropriate circumstances); and I have found fewer instances of weird black spots insde them. Although I am officially waiting for the outcome of my basement sprouting experiments to announce my final verdict, I must say $1.40 per pound is not an outrageous sum for seriously delicious potatoes, especially at this time of year when they are one of the stars of the show.

In my opinion, Crunchy Potatoes en Anglais (I made that up) are one of the triumphs of farmhouse cooking. I say 'farmhouse' because, without one of those huge cast iron cookers I so admire, you really need two ovens if you are going to make potatoes with a roast (excuse me, 'joint'). This is because the two dishes cook at completely different temperatures. If you try to use the beast's low oven for the spuds, the crispy, crunchy exterior (gold-hued, with charred bits here and there) so prized by connoisseurs will forever elude you. It is a fact that, in the days before my Wolf, guests for a roast dinner had to bring their own oven for the potatoes. That they were willing to do so says a lot about how fantastic they were (both the potatoes and the guests).

A few additional notes about roasted spuds. I have cooked them in beef dripping, lard, and (in a pinch) shortening, but this year  - for extra amazingness - I am going to do them in the duck fat left over from my confit project. Some effete types turn their potatoes after peeling them to make regular ovoid shapes, but I eschew this practice. First of all, it ruins the rustic appearance of the final dish. Second of all, without the well-defined angles that result from rough chopping, you don't get the crispy caramelized edges that add such depth and mystery.

Here is how I make proper golden roast potatoes, crunchy on the outside with tender, not-at-all-greasy insides. Believe me, they are aces.

Roast Potatoes

1. Fill a large pot with plenty of salted water and bring it to a boil. Preheat your oven to 425 deg F.
2. Peel sufficient potatoes for the number of people you will be feeding (I use Russets). Add a couple extra because seconds will be required. Chop them into rough chunks: I favor pieces approximately one-and-a-half to two inches in diameter.
3. Parboil the potatoes for ten minutes then drain them well. Here follows the key step, which I learned from Delia Smith. Return the potatoes to the empty but still-warm pot, put the lid on (hold it down tightly with your thumbs!), and give the whole thing a few really good shakes. I mean, give yourself a strenuous workout - the idea is to fluff up the edges of the potatoes by agitating them with some force against the sides of the pan. When you remove the lid and peek inside, the potatoes' surfaces should be all floury and soft. You can put them aside now while you get the fat ready.
4. You will need about 2 oz. of fat (see above) for every pound of potatoes. Put the fat into your sturdiest roasting pan and put the pan in the oven to get hot. When the fat is all melted, transfer the pan to your stove top over medium high heat. This will keep the fat hot and sizzling while you add the potatoes - a crucial step for ensuring grease-free crunchiness!
5. Transfer your potatoes to the hot pan. Be careful, obviously, because if there is any residual water on them they will go up like one of those deep-sea thermal vents the Discovery Channel is always on about. Stir them around to make sure they are coated with the fat.
6. Into the oven for about an hour, turning them half-way through. Pull them out when they are tender on the inside (stick 'em with a knife if you aren't sure) but golden and crunchy on the outside. I do not generally salt them, but a couple grinds of pepper are appropriate. You could garnish them with fresh herbage, I suppose, but why bother? They are gorgeous just the way they are.
7. Serve them immediately, since they will lose their crisp outer shells if left to sit too long.

They are awesome with roasts, of course, but also gussy up grilled meat and stews in a very impressive way. They are certainly easier with the latter choices, because only one oven is required. They are always a hit.