Potato Parsley Cakes

 

Before getting to the recipe, this:

On June 24th, Popmatters.com published my review of Kim Addonizio’s Bukowski In A Sundress.  She read it, was really pleased, and said so on Twitter, which thrilled me.  It’s a fantastic book, and I suggest you run to your nearest Indie bookstore and buy it this minute. Ms. Addonizio was reading at Oakland’s Diesel Books last Wednesday night, and yours truly schlepped the whole six BART stops to see her.

Meeting writers is always a dicey prospect. Nobody wants to learn the authors they’ve enjoyed so much on paper aren’t as friendly in the flesh. And then there’s the audience factor, at least there is in the Bay Area, which is full of people who Want To Write. These are mostly middle-aged women given to uncut hair (I should talk), flowing cotton garments, and blue toenail polish. Lest you are unsure of their artiste status, some even scribble reverently at readings. Of course, their natural habitat is the coffee shop, though they can occasionally be spotted at a certain kind of bar (the kind mixing drinks with arcane ingredients). Me, I write at home, where I can be a) alone, and b) near my books.

Ms. Addonizio lives in Oakland, so she read to a packed house of friends, the aforementioned Want To Write types, a few real fans, and me.

Hearing Ms. Addonizio read was an amazing experience. When I review a book, I immerse myself in it. Reviews take hours, days, sometimes weeks to write. I’d never had the experience of writing a review and then hearing the writer read from the book. It was wild. Bukowski In A Sundress is a memoir in essays. As Addonizio read from it, I remembered the essays, and in some instances could murmur right along with her.

By now you might realize Bukowski In A Sundress meant a great deal to me, which would be understating the case. I am paraphrasing myself from the review here; so be it. There are books that arrive in your life just when you need them, and this was such a book. Bukowski In A Sundress made me laugh aloud in the awful weeks following John’s surgery. But it did far more than that.

A few months ago I’d found myself in a situation where my writing–indeed, who I am as a person–was found wanting. The individuals doing the questioning made snap judgements based on an inability to see past their own limited values. Initially I was bewildered, then hurt, then angry. I had anticipated a far different experience.

Much of Bukowski In A Sundress is about writing and staying true to yourself as a writer, even when people try shutting down your work. Kim Addonizio has no idea how much I needed to be reminded of that. Well, she knows a little, because it was my good fortune to meet her after the reading.

For all my comparative loudmouthed-ness here at the IK, when it comes to meeting my heroines, I’m pretty shy. Meaning that during the reading, I sat at the back. When Ms. Addonizio  finished reading, people lined up to get their books signed. Including me. When my turn came, I introduced myself as the Popmatters writer. Ms. Addonizio threw her arms around me in a giant hug, and began thanking me. Well, that was Wednesday, and today is Friday, and I am still walking on air.

Things like this don’t happen me. I spend all my time either writing a 6×9 room whose carpet is stained from cat barf, or cooking in a kitchen whose limitations are well-documented. Fantastic writers do not thank me with shot glasses.

That shot glass is beside me as I write. A talisman for the next time somebody tries shutting me or my writing down.

—

Recipe titles are not my forte, particularly when the recipe in question goes by numerous names. When one folds additional edibles into mashed potatoes, forms them into puck shapes and fries them up, what, then, are they called? Pancakes? Fritters? Cakes? As these originated in leftovers, can we call them bubble and squeak? Not if you’re outside England…and let’s not even start on that.

Regardless, whatever you want to call these potato things, they’re useful kitchen items in that they use up random leftovers–at least, they did for me, which is how they came into being to start with.

Now, you can come at these two ways: either using up leftover mashed potatoes, and throwing random fridge contents in, or from scratch, as I did here. People generally enjoy fried potatoes, and won’t call you out either way.

Thanks to Nigel Slater’s Tender Volume 1, acquired after making the first version. Slater offers useful advice on making a dry potato cake, which is desirable though not absolutely critical. Runny potato cakes do not hold together as well while cooking or eating. My first attempt was runny, due to large amounts of dairy in the mashed potato and the added zucchini. It was still delicious.

To keep the potato mix dry, I did the following:

After draining the potatoes, I returned them to the warm pot and placed the lid on to steam them dry.

I used less butter in the mash: only two tablespoons for two-and-a-half pounds of spuds. You can always add more later. No milk, no egg.

The zucchini/parsley mix went into a bowl from the food processor, where it was blotted with paper towels. No strainer, no dealing with the food processor’s shredder disk, which I find a complete hassle.

The patties are dredged in a little cornmeal, which I picked up from Nigel Slater, and chilled in the fridge for about 15 minutes, because that’s how long it took to clean up the kitchen. Chilling makes for a neater shape when cooking.

A few years ago I wrote that cheap baking sheets from the hardware were just fine. I was  wrong, wrong, wrong. Heavier baking sheets cost a little more. They’re worth it.

To cook the cakes:

Despite being the happy owner of a seasoned cast-iron frying pan, I have never been able to achieve total non-stickitude. I feel every kitchen needs a good non-stick frying pan but have yet to locate one. I’ve spent five dollars, I’ve spent fifty. What I haven’t spent is five hundred. I’m beginning to think I need to. Right now I have two crummy non-stick pans, both in need of replacing. I used them to fry the potatoes, and they did fine, but they’re crap. The finish is coming off the bottom of the newer one. Cue Neil Young: When I got it home it was a piece of crap.

The oil: I used Spectrum high-heat refined canola oil as my frying medium, and found using less in the pan worked better for me.

Additional cooking note: I recently bought a plastic cutting board. Wood is pretty, but bacteria traps in the knife cuts and I find it impossible to clean. A dishtowel below the board prevents sliding while working. It’s a small price to pay for cleanliness.

About dipping sauces: I have no idea why catsup is considered such a downmarket condiment. But I can never think of it without recalling Richard Woodward’s interview of Sally Mann, where her daughter asks for catsup with her dinner and Mann refuses, saying “I will not have a common child.” Well, I must be a common child, because I think catsup is just fine with these. So is two tablespoons of jarred mayonnaise, doctored with sriracha. God, what a philistine I am.

If you must be high-falutin’, mix yogurt with sour cream, lemon or lime, and some crushed garlic. Feel better? Oh, wait. Sea salt.

This last photo has nothing to do with dipping sauce. I just wanted to squeeze it in.