recipe | olive oil potato gratin

Here's a secret. I'm not all that patient when it comes to cooking. I burn things a lot. I like to blame it on the fact that most evenings I'm cooking while tripping over a tiny toddler who likes to pull all the pots and colanders out of the cupboards and onto the floor before opening the refrigerator door over and over while saying, "hmm, thupperrr." I also like to blame my inadequacies on my gas stove, because it never seems to get low enough. Simmering is not an option. It's low boil, or boil over. Nothing in between. But, no, the truth is that I'm just not patient enough. I don't like to stand at the stove and wait, and flip, and test, and wait some more. Ryan, my dear husband, has unmatched diligence in the kitchen, which is why he is in charge of cooking any expensive cuts of meat we happen to have. He's also the boss of making bacon at our house, and working pizza dough into the most perfect circular shape. I can throw together a mean soup without messing anything up, and lasagna is totally my jam, But you don't want me caramelizing your onions or anything.

Except I really love caramelized onions.

Which brings me to this: Olive Oil and Potato Gratin. It's an easy yet hearty side dish, with just a few simple ingredients. Not super rich or creamy or cheesy like most potato gratins, but it'll warm your toes just right. The hardest part is standing by the stove and stirring those onions into sticky, garlicky sweetness for 15 minutes while your child pulls all the cucumbers out of the fridge drawer and rolls them across the floor. And then empties your purse till he finds the tic tacs. At least, that's how it was at my house yesterday. I did not burn the onions though. Progress!







And now, the recipe, changed ever so slightly from the America's Test Kitchen version. I served ours last night with a roasted chicken stuffed with onion and lemon, and some steamed peas (Ralphie's fave.)


Olive Oil and Potato Gratin

Ingredients:

1 cup grated Parmesan cheese
1/2 cup panko bread crumbs
2 onions, halved and sliced thin
2 cloves of garlic, minced
1 teaspoon minced fresh thyme
1 cup chicken broth
3 pounds Yukon Gold potatoes, peeled and sliced 1/4 inch thick
salt and pepper

1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Grease a 9x13 baking dish.* Combine Parmesan, 3 tablespoons olive oil, panko bread cumbs, and 1/2 teaspoon pepper. Set aside.

2. Heat 2 tablespoons oil in a skillet until shimmering. Add onions, 1/2 teaspoon of salt, and 1/4 teaspoon pepper and cook, stirring frequently, until browned (about 15 minutes.) Add garlic and 1/2 teaspoon thyme and cook until fragrant, about 30 seconds. Add 1/4 cup broth and cook until nearly evaporated, scraping up any browned bits. Remove from heat and set aside.

3. Toss potatoes, remaining 3 tablespoons oil, 1 teaspoon salt, 1/2 teaspoon pepper, and remaining 1/2 teaspoon thyme together in a bowl. Arrange half of the potatoes in prepared dish, spread onion mixture in even later over potatoes, and arrange remaining potatoes over onions. Pour 3/4 cup broth over potatoes. Cover dish tightly with aluminum foil and bake for 1 hour.

4. Remove foil, top gratin with reserved Parmesan mixture, and continue to bake until top is golden brown and the potatoes are completely tender, about 15 minutes. Let cool for 15 minutes. Serve.

*It should be noted that instead of a 9x13 baking dish, I used 4 small individual baking dishes (a fun Christmas gift from my sister, purchased here.) and an 8x8 baking dish. I reduced the baking time a smidge, but otherwise followed these directions.

keeping the home | late summer, early fall

I'm trying something new here on The Homebook, a little series called "Keeping the Home." At this point in my life, being a stay-at-home wife and mother is my one, wonderful, profession. And since blogging is a part time gig that I enjoy very much, I'm blending the two trades. With this series I'll pop in every now and then around the changing of each season to talk about how I'm setting the scene at our house. I'm not an expert, just a wife and a mother who enjoys keeping her family happy and her home sweet and tidy (and sometimes festive.) I'm excited to show you how I do it.






Setting the scene: September is a funny month-- warm days and cool nights, not quite summer anymore, but not quite entirely fall. The harvest moon has come and gone, and it's time to start bringing the outdoors in. Our vegetable garden is starting to fade, but the tomatoes are in their prime, so every day I pick them and perch them on my kitchen window sills just like my mom has always done.  Bunches of herbs are being hung up to dry. I'm filling bowls with apples and pears and setting them in easy-to-reach places. Candles are lit in the evenings. Throw blankets have been pulled out of the linen closet and tossed onto chairs, just in case.Things are getting cozy over here, but we're not even close to hunkering down quite yet.

Making this meal: Sausage and lentil stew, bread with butter, chopped tomatoes and arugula with our favorite dressing, beer for the grownups.

Listening to this: The Felicity Soundtrack, for getting us in a back-to-school mood. The perfect background music while Ralph and I play all day long. Nick Drake's Five Leaves Left, my old autumn standby. Makes me want to grab my Art History textbook and walk to the library to cram for a test. Good for playing while Ralph naps and I sip coffee, preferably on a rainy day. Chet Baker Sings. This one plays on the nights we clean up the kitchen together after putting Ralph to bed. Open windows, open wine bottle.

Working on: Meal planning. Lazy summer days have made me, well, lazy. Making sure there is something warm and good for the boys to eat every evening is what I'm striving for.

notes about summer

In my head I've been calling this summer The Summer of Country Music, which sounds kind of dumb, but let me explain. Ryan and I went to a small high school full of farm kids, and country music was what almost everyone listened to. It was blasted through the speakers of boys' pick up trucks, and it played in the background at all the bonfire parties. Guys wore cowboy hats to school dances, and nothing got the crowd jumping faster than (unfortunately) the old Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy tune. That's just the way it was. When we went off to college, we stopped listening, because we were college kids who listened to better music than that.

And then in the beginning of the summer my sister mentioned that they were listening to country music again, and it's not so bad, she said. Like a true younger sister, I had to try it out too. At first Ryan and I were quick to roll our eyes, because is this guy really singing about getting drunk on a plane? But by August, we had the windows rolled down and were shouting along, buying drinks for everybody but the pilot, it's a party! There's just something about listening to songs about beer and whiskey and corn, and summer and swimmin' and fishin'. It feels like cheesy, sentimental sunshine. Come to think of it, this whole dang summer has felt like cheesy, sentimental sunshine with my little family.

There was a night back in June that I keep thinking about. We had just gotten Ralph down to sleep for the night, and there was still plenty of light for a walk in the backyard to look at the garden. After a little while it started to rain. And then it poured. And instead of running into the house, we leaned against the garage door, under 12 inches of roof shelter, and watched the rain come down for a long time. The air was warm, and everything looked so green. In the middle of January, when it's cold and grey and dark by 4:30pm, this is the night I'm going to picture in my head.

These pictures were taken the weekend before last, at the beach in Kohler. We walked far enough away from the crowds that it almost felt like we had the beach to ourselves. We let Ralph work some energy out in the waves, but after awhile he grew tired and settled into the sand to dig hole after hole. He was still enough that Ryan and I sat down and let the water splash into our laps. We kept scooting further and further in, getting sand into the bottom of our suits with every wave, and the whole thing was hilarious to us for some reason. After a few hours, we brushed the sand off, packed up, and headed back to the car. We stopped for ice cream cones and drove through some camp grounds, peering into different sites and taking notes for next summer. Ralphie fell asleep in his car seat, so we turned on some country music and drove home. It was good. Cheesy, sentimental sunshine.