I got not one, but two requests for sherry potatoes – one from a close friend, and the other from Sarah Teske, a fantastic librarian in Minneapolis, MN. Despite having lived in the Midwest, I somehow had never had sherry potatoes, and Sarah’s description of this recipe as having “a warm depth of buttery, slightly-sweet, caramelized goodness” most certainly intrigued me. And it is, like the best of buttery dishes, Passover-friendly. I am providing two recipes here: first, the recipe I made – I like my potatoes with skin on in all circumstances (even fries), and then Sarah’s recipe. For my version, I added some peri-peri spice mix that I brought back from visiting relatives in South Africa last year, but you can use any peppery-sweet curry spice mix instead. Sarah’s version calls for Lawry’s Seasoned Salt, which is delicious, but contains cornstarch, which some people do not eat on Passover. Both recipes are good.
Sherry Potatoes with Peri-Peri
Based on the recipe by Sarah Teske
2 lbs/1 kg small red gold potatoes, sliced into thin slices (with peel on)
In a medium-size (or any appropriately size baking dish), layer the potatoes. After each layer of potatoes, sprinkle some salt and pepper on top.
Once all the potatoes are in, sprinkle the peri-peri on top of the potatoes.
Mix the melted butter and sherry together, then pour over the potatoes. Make sure that the potatoes are well-coated.
Bake for 40 to 60 minutes, basting occasionally if you wish. (I like my potatoes with a bit of crisp on top. Garnish with parsley; serve hot.
Sarah Teske’s Sherry Potatoes (in her own words)
2 lb. very small red potatoes (about 20), scrubbed, peeled*and cut in half (YES, peeling is necessary for her recipe… please try not to add any/much of your skin or blood to the potatoes while doing so. Remember, SAFETY FIRST.)
3 Tbs. olive oil
3 Tbs. or half a bottle or whatever you have left of a good, dry (not too expensive) sherry
A few shakes of Lawry’s Seasoned Salt (to taste).
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Put potatoes baking pan that is big enough with a lip/side so the liquid stays in the pan. Mix the dressing of all the other stuff. Coat potatoes evenly. Put in oven and bake. Check on the potatoes and baste as you feel necessary (about every five to ten minutes depending on how anxious you are about the guests you are hosting). If timed correctly, they are done usually about 20 minutes after all the other food is. Basically, cook them anywhere from 35 minutes to an hour and an half depending on how many times you opened the oven to baste. Serve. Eat with your family at every Jewish holy day/holiday meal. Serves two.
We have a reader contribution! My friends Dalya and Adele Moss in Oxford sent their delicious recipe for a German Jewish potato salad with many fun photographs. (It was sent in early November; I apologize for tardiness.) I was fortunate enough to eat this recipe at a Passover seder at their house in 2015, and can vouch for its deliciousness. It is a family recipe with a long history – and perhaps I better leave it to Dalya:
My Grandma Marlie’s (z’ l’) talents were many, including solidly beating me in Scrabble with her mastery of English, her second language. I also used to look forward with great relish to Shabbat at hers. This potato salad is my favorite, and has got passed down our family with a few tweaks along the way. It is great for Shabbat, or even we have it at Pesach (don’t worry, still ages away!) with cooked salmon.
A few pieces of advice before you embark. Firstly, I know it looks like a lot of onion in the dressing, but trust me, don’t skimp on it. It melts in beautifully and gives the essential gentle, piquant flavor. Secondly, leaving the potatoes to marinade for an hour makes all the difference. Lastly, don’t plan on doing anything after eating this potato salad. You will just want to “shluf” [sleep] in a satiated bliss!
I’ve rewritten the recipe for our American readers – mayonnaise is slightly sweeter in the United States. Enjoy!
Not everyone can make boiled potatoes, in fact. (Photo Dalya Moss, October 2016)
The recipe in production by Dalya Moss. (Photos Dalya and Adele Moss, October 2016)
Potato Salad (Kartoffelsalat)
A recipe by Adele and Dalya Moss
2 lbs/1 kg new potatoes
¼ cup vegetable oil
½ medium white onion
1 tbsp white sugar
1 tbsp + ½ tsp apple cider vinegar
2 large or several small pickles, chopped
A handful of fresh cilantro (Adele’s innovation!)
A heaped tablespoon of mayonnaise
Salt and pepper to taste
Boil potatoes till soft, but not falling apart. Drain and leave to cool a bit.
Meanwhile, make marinade: grate onion as finely as possible. It should become a pulp. If you don’t want cathartic tears, I find wearing swimming googles works wonders!
To complete the marinade: in a cup, put oil, the onion pulp, the sugar, vinegar, and a good bit of salt, and stir.
Now chop up the potatoes, while still warm, into hearty chunks. I don’t bother taking the peel off. More flavor and goodness!
Stir marinade gently into the warm potatoes and leave for an hour or so. It is fine to leave them to marinade overnight.
Finally, just before you eat it, put it all together. Add your dollop of mayonnaise, ground pepper to taste and stir. Remember, you don’t need much of it, as the salad already has its marinade. Chop up the pickled cucumber, roughly chop or tear the coriander and then add. Stir again and it’s ready to eat!
Few Ashkenazi dishes invite as many reveries or passionate opinions as the potato kugel. It seems that everyone I talk to – everyone that has some Ashkenazi Jewish ancestry, that is – has a) an often cherished memory of eating potato kugel, b) an opinion on how (or whether) it should be made, and c) a forsworn allegiance to a certain person’s or place’s version of the dish. For those of you who have not had a potato kugel, it is a dense and starchy potato casserole, slightly crispy on the outside and very chewy on the inside. It is one of Jewish cuisine’s many carbohydrate-loaded delicacies, and is utterly delicious.
I briefly touched upon the kugel’s origins in my post on corn kugel / pashtida; let us recap in more detail. Kugels initially began as spherical, dense flour-based casseroles cooked within the Sabbath cholent stew. Even today, this practice still persists in some communities – though the Yiddish word “kugel” has since evolved from its original German meaning of “sphere.” In the nineteenth century, it also became common to bake the kugel as a stand-alone item – especially as the noodle kugel became more popular. Kugels were made with many things – and especially with the new star of Eastern European cuisine in the late 18th and early 19th century, the potato. Kugels also became popular with the other peoples Jews lived among – in Lithuania, kugelis is still a popular dish. Thus when Ashkenazi Jews fanned out from theAlter Heim to North America, Argentina, South Africa, the United Kingdom, France, and beyond…the kugel travelled with them. And stuck – so that even today, you can buy prepared kugels in kosher supermarkets and have recipes by star cooks for them. (For more on how and why they stuck, I direct you to an excellent master’s thesis by Avery Robinson.) Even the New York Times Magazine recently ran an article on potato kugels – complete with a recipe prefaced by the title “Almost Traditional Jewish Cooking.” Almost traditional indeed – for even as it is homemade, it continues to evolve.
I find that the kugel is an interesting starting point to discuss Jewish authenticity. In some ways it is considered the Ur-authentic: a kugel is what so many imagine must have graced the tables of our ancestors in Eastern Europe; the dish is often presented as a traditional Ashkenazi dish at potlucks and food festivals and the like. Yet the kugel itself has evolved so much over the centuries – is it authentic only if it is made in a cholent? Only if it is made with flour? Can a potato kugel, made from a tuber that only became widespread in Eastern Europe in the 19th century, be authentic? And then there is the whole matter of the potato kugel being served alongside very … non-traditional Ashkenazi dishes. I myself have eaten potato kugel with: stir-fried bok choy (very Ashkenazi), chili con carne (ditto), and stewed collard greens (completely native to the shtetl). And if it is served by an otherwise unengaged Jew, or a non-Jew (gasp!), is it still authentic? If anything, the kugel is a reminder that authenticity becomes this impossible fashion contest, and perhaps always is.
Yet beyond this question of the authentic there is this beautiful idea that the kugel brings one “home.” Even today, there is something for so many of us Ashkenazi Jews delightfully heimish – that’s Yiddish for “home-like,” in a domestic and cuddly sort of way – about a potato kugel. Kugels, as the New York Times article noted, are “good or bad,” and it is the “good” kugel (though that term is so highly subjective!) that can bring about reveries. Or, as a friend who makes a phenomenal potato kugel once said, “it is the heimishkeit that makes it good!” It is also something that is often cooked not by recipe, but by “eyeball.” I myself make potato kugel without measurements or consulting directions, but rather from a family tradition. After all, it is something that I myself ate growing up.
Grated potatoes, ready to morph into kugel! Photo mine, January 2016
Mixing the batter with the potatoes and the onions. Photo mine, January 2016.
My recipe is an approximation – as I noted, I make this kugel by heart, based on my grandmother’s recipe. It is a flexible and versatile recipe that pairs well with many dishes, and you can adjust it accordingly. Let me know what you do with it – and also if you have a recipe of your own you’d like to share!
A last note: one big difference between various kugel recipes is the binding agent used to mesh the kugel together. Most common are flour and matzoh meal, but my friend Joshua introduced me to the use of potato starch, which also makes a fine kugel – though one that is rather denser than the one I have here. This kugel can also be made with sweet potatoes; that is a common American variation.
Based on the recipe of Annushka Smit Freiman. See an additional note on ingredients below.
5 medium-to-large potatoes, peeled
One medium onion, diced
Two scallions, chopped
6 large eggs, lightly beaten
1/3 cup oil
1 tbsp salt
1.5 tsp black pepper
1 tsp ground thyme
2/3 cup flour
Oil, to grease the pan
Preheat the oven to 400 F. Grease a 9×9 pan for a deeper kugel, 9×13 for a slightly shallower kugel.
Grate your potatoes with a somewhat wide grate. I grate by hand because I like full control over the consistency, but you can do this with a food processor too. To avoid discoloration, keep the gratings in water in a large mixing bowl.
Squeeze the liquid out of the potato gratings. Or, if you’ve been storing the potatoes in water, strain then squeeze.
Add the chopped onions and scallions, mix in thoroughly with the potatoes.
Add the eggs, oil, and spices, and mix in thoroughly.
Add the flour in two batches and mix in thoroughly until well-combined into the mixture. At this point you should have potatoes and onions in a thick batter. If your batter is too thick, add a bit of oil or an egg. If it is very watery, add more flour.
Pour the mixture into your greased pan and make sure that it is evenly spread. Smooth it out on the top with a fork.
Bake for 45 minutes – 1 hour in your oven, or until the top is golden brown and a toothpick comes out clean.
Note: kugels, by nature, are quite flexible. One can swap the oil for butter for a dairy kugel, or chicken fat (schmaltz) for a meat one. I sometimes use a smaller onion and add a chopped leek rather than a scallion, or I forgo the rather heterodox scallion altogether and use more onion instead.