The Food Section

Passover Postscript (2008 Edition)

Last week's Passover conundrum, about what to make for a Passover dessert among so many interesting recipes, was narrowed to two final selections. I wanted to make something out of the ordinary, and the results were successful.

Above is a Spanish orange-almond flan, adapted by Joan Nathan from a recipe by Ana Bensadón. Somehow, I averted what I thought would be a complete disaster during the cooking process and somehow produced a pretty incredible dessert, worthy of making not just for the Passover holiday, but any time...you have a dozen eggs to spare! The disaster part came while cooking the flan in the oven, which was a surprise, since I successfully navigated the toughest step in the recipe: making caramel for my very first time (seen bubbling away below).

While the recipe indicated the flan should cook for anywhere from 30 to 60 minutes, after an hour's cooking, it was completely liquid in the center, despite a thin veneer that had solidified on top. I ended up continuing to bake the flan, racing back and forth between the computer (to seek answers online for what I was screwing up) and the oven, checking on the flan every 10 minutes. After 30 more minutes, the flan still wasn't cooked in the middle, but I then discovered that the oven wasn't calibrated correctly and was off by 40 degrees. After another half hour of cooking and harried Google searches for "jiggly flan," the center had finally firmed up somewhat, and though it was still a little wobbly, I finally removed it from the oven after nearly 2 hours, let it cool in an ice bath to speed things and transferred the flan to the refrigerator.

After the flan chilled for several hours, it released (surprisingly) easily from the pan. What came out was a quite stunning orange-infused custard topped with caramel. The ground almonds, which mostly floated to the top while cooking, ended up giving the flan a nutty bottom layer. Interestingly,  a hard layer of caramel remained in the bottom of the pan, and I don't know why (maybe not enough time in hot water before releasing?).

I also made François Payard’s flourless chocolate-walnut cookies  which were simpler and less stressful than the flan. The recipe contains no flour (obviously) or even matzo meal, though the cookies puffed up in the oven into something chewy, and chocolatey -- almost a cross between a brownie and a cookie, with a crackled surface on the outside. They look completely different than the ones at Smitten Kitchen. It must be due to my using store-bought confectioner's sugar -- a shonda because it contains cornstarch -- rather than homemade powdered sugar.

It was a little weird to work solely with powdered sugar and cocoa to make the cookie batter. Just four egg whites brought all of the dry ingredients together, which became super-thick, sticky, fudgy, and barely could be stirred. The recipe made 12 humongous cookies that no single person could consume, particularly after a huge Passover meal. If I was to ever make them again, I would probably divide the batter into 24 smaller cookies.

Recipes:
»Orange-Almond Flan [New York Times]
»François Payard’s Flourless Chocolate-Walnut Cookies [New York]

Passover Dessert Recipes

Desiring something different than the ubiquitous (but always delicious) flourless chocolate cake, I have been searching for something entirely new to make for Passover dessert this year.

I've had some success in Passovers past making Le Pain Quotidien's Belgian Brownies (above left), rich chocolate mini-cakes that, surprisingly, don't suffer at all from the absence of flour, as well as Joan Nathan's almendrados (above right), Spanish almond macaroons with a hint of lemon.

I've been collecting a number of great-looking recipes, which are posted below. Most are nut-based cakes from food magazines and newspapers, along with two from Joyce Goldstein's Cucina Ebraica (thanks Google Books!). There's also an amazing-looking cookie recipe and one for lemon mini-cakes.

»Orange-Almond Flan [New York Times]
»Orange-Almond Cake [New York Times]
»Pan di Spagna alle Nocciole (Passover Hazelnut Sponge Cake) [Joyce Goldstein]
»Bocca di Dama (Passover Almond Sponge Cake) [Joyce Goldstein]
»Almond-lemon torte with fresh strawberries [Bon Appétit]
»Lemon Cakes With Basil Lemon Syrup [Gourmet]
»Italian Almond Cake [Food & Wine]
»Walnut-Date Torte [Gourmet]
»François Payard’s Flourless Chocolate-Walnut Cookies [New York]

Looking for more ideas? Be sure to also check out Smitten Kitchen for an extensive list of 17 dessert recipes, many of which have been given a test run by Deb in her own kitchen (plus photographic proof of the outstanding results).

I'm currently leaning toward either Joyce Goldstein's hazelnut cake, Gourmet's lemon cakes, Tamasin Day-Lewis' orange-almond cake, or the chocolate-walnut cookies. What are you making? And, do you have more ideas? Share them in the comments.

Passover Archives:

»Pancakes for Passover?
»Kosher Coke Smackdown
»Belgian Brownies
»Passover Postscript
»Matzo Madeleine
»Passover-friendly Sweets
»Pesach Granola

A Winter Caprese

Do you find yourself craving summer dishes in the waning days of winter? I know even the thought is heresy for the hardcore adherents of seasonal cooking and eating, but what I wouldn't give right now to be eating a caprese salad of fresh mozzarella, ultra-ripe heirloom tomatoes, basil, and olive oil.

Unfortunately, the ingredients won't cooperate. You can't find a decent tomato until summer -- and late summer at that -- so, what does one do? I've made a fair alternative caprese by roasting plum tomatoes, sliced in half, seasoned with salt, pepper, and olive oil, and cooked in the oven (or toaster) until their interior is soft. Once the tomatoes have cooled, serve them either chilled or at room temperature with sliced mozzarella, and you have an almost caprese.

But, I recently discovered another way of creating caprese glory as fresh in winter as the summer original: substitute winter citrus, now at its best, for the tomatoes.

It's a combination served at Jean Georges Vongerichten's Perry St, where a fantastic composed salad is crafted from house-made mozzarella, grapefruit, clementines, and Thai basil -- basically a caprese salad with citrus playing the role of tomatoes.

I was a little skeptical of the combination when I first saw it on the menu, but maybe I shouldn't have been. After all, tomatoes are a fruit, and the citrus too plays a similarly sweet, acidic counterpoint to the fatty richness of the mozzarella.

I recreated the dish at home using fresh, cow's milk mozzarella and supremes of ruby red grapefruit, mandarin oranges, and blood oranges, along with a drizzle of extra-virgin olive oil,  cracked pepper, and sea salt. If you can get your hands on some Thai basil, all the better (it adds a seriously peppery kick), but ordinary basil will also do. The options for citrus are probably endless as well. I threw blood oranges into the mix, but why not also try tangerines, or even kumquats?

The dish is a stunning and delicious work-around for a salad I would otherwise only expect to eat months from now.

Related: For another savory citrus salad, consider Jody Williams' blood orange salad with arugula, olives, and red onions.

Cooking with Cavolo Nero

Remember when Mario Batali's Otto opened to oh so much fanfare, but the pizza was just so-so? The saving grace was the antipasti -- salumi, Italian cheeses, and small dishes of braised and lightly dressed vegetables -- and the much-praised (and imitated) olive oil gelato. I never had pizza again at Otto, but when I returned for the second time, things had improved. Pastas were now on the menu: For under $10, there was a selection of classics, like spaghetti carbonara, along with seasonally-inspired improvisations.

One pasta I really liked was a simple combination of linguine, cabbage, garlic, and speck (the smoked cousin of prosciutto).

I was thinking about it when I came across some Cavolo Nero for the first time and decided to try making a winter version (I believe the original dish may have been made with napa cabbage). I never cooked with Cavolo Nero (also known as Lacinato Kale, Tuscan Kale, and Black Kale) before, so I searched online for how to properly prepare the winter greens. Many of the recipes I found called for boiling or braising it for as long as 20 minutes and upward. This seems really strange, since the leaves are thin and tender, not tough. When I cooked the kale myself, it took no longer than five to eight minutes before it was cooked, but not falling apart.

I started by taking two bunches of Cavolo Nero, removing the stalks, and slicing the leaves into ribbons. After heating a saute pan over medium-high heat, I added two sliced cloves of garlic and cooked them until lightly browned. To the pan, I added the sliced kale, salt, and pepper. After cooking and tossing for about a minute, I added a cup of water, turned the heat down and covered the pan, essentially steaming the kale, adding water as needed for the next five minutes if the pan became dry. By the way, all of this can be done while the pasta is cooking. When the kale is tender (and the pasta is nearly cooked), add the linguine to the pan and toss with small slivers of speck (La Quercia's "Speck Americano"), adding pasta water if necessary to continue cooking the pasta. Lastly, toss the pasta with grated Parmigiano-Reggiano.

I loved the kale's texture and slightly sweet flavor. It would make a great side dish alone, torn from the stalks and sauteed with garlic and olive oil (or even better, pancetta!), or tossed with orecchiette and sausage as an alternative to the usual broccoli rabe. Do you have ideas for cooking with Cavolo Nero? If so, leave them in the comments.

Oven-Roasted Fries

The January issue of Bon Appétit declared that french fries were the "indulgence of the year." That claim is open to debate, of course (I'd give a lifetime achievement award to burrata). But, more useful was the accompanying article with recipes for french fries by chef Suzanne Tracht of Jar in Los Angeles.

The piece included a recipe for making twice-cooked (deep fried) french fries and oven-roasted fries. I took the easy way out and made the roasted fries, which are barely even a recipe: just combine potatoes, salt, and oil and bake for 45 minutes (I needed a little extra time for them to brown, but that may be due to the eccentricities of my oven). Could anything be easier? And, the result was fantastic -- crisp, golden brown wedges of potatoes that was perfect with a grilled skirt steak, but would go with any grilled or roasted fish or meat.

The recipe seems open to endless variations. Chef Tracht suggests mixing up purple and russet potatoes. But, why not improvise further? What about substituting extra virgin olive oil for (relatively flavorless) canola oil? Or, how about tossing some fresh herbs or lemon zest with the potatoes before serving?

»Oven-Roasted Fries [Bon Appetit]

Summer's Last Hurrah

I was a little skeptical that Mark Bittman's tomato paella recipe would be as astounding as it turned out to be, but after later reading Luisa's post about her success making the dish, I was sold (reading The Wednesday Chef is like having a test kitchen for recipes from the New York Times and Los Angeles Times).

I made the paella on Halloween using the very last heirloom tomato of the season from the last day of our farmer's market (which, unfortunately, won't reopen until next spring). The recipe was extremely easy to make: quickly cook minced onions and garlic in olive oil and add smoked paprika and saffron, toasting the spices gently. In goes some tomato paste, rice, water or stock (I used stock), and the sliced tomatoes, and after 15 minutes in the oven, the paella is done. I hate to get all food writerly here, but the tomatoes were downright voluptuous, their thin skins stretching over flesh literally bursting with juice and flavor.

Anya -- who you can usually count on to eat rice with abandon -- wouldn't deign to have a bite. She may have been distracted by all the trick-or-treaters who kept interrupting dinner (next time, I'll deceptively deliciously puree the paella into a brownie . . . I kid, I kid). And, speaking of those trick-or-treaters, I couldn't believe that several exclaimed "it smells good in here" as we opened our doors to drop candy into their bags. Who could ask for better praise of my simple paella on an evening when these kids were jonesing for chocolate?

» A Grand Paella Gives Way to a Simple One

Straw and Hay Fettuccine Tangle

Writer/blogger/photographer extraordinaire Heidi Swanson has a new book out, Super Natural Cooking, which bills itself as both a cookbook and a guide to incorporating more whole and natural foods into your diet. (Heidi is a friend -- and one of only a handful of other food bloggers I've actually met in real life -- so don't take this as an unbiased review.)

The book is clearly aimed at those cooks, myself included, who have never used sweeteners like agave nectar or whole grain flours like amaranth flour. But, don't fear: It's not your mother's natural foods cookbook. With recipes ranging from farro with green onion sauce, toasted walnuts to thin mint cookies, the book doesn't hit your over the head with the "all natural" regime. Instead, it's more of a gentle nudge in the direction of whole grains and nutrient-rich ingredients, using recipes that look delicious (thanks to Heidi's luscious photography).

I decided to make the recipe for "Straw and Hay Fettuccine Tangle with Spring Asparagus Puree," egg and spinach pasta tossed with a pesto-like puree of asparagus, spinach, toasted pine nuts, and parmigiano-reggiano. The recipe is bereft of whole grains (though you could certainly use a whole wheat pasta). The emphasis here is on the folate-rich main ingredient, asparagus. It's a quick, easy dish for warm weather cooking (which has finally arrived in these parts) and a welcome change from basil pesto.

Kitchen Notes: You may need to season the puree with a little more salt and lemon than indicated. Just do so incrementally so you don't overwhelm the sauce. There will be plenty of leftover puree when you're done cooking. Heidi recommends slathering it on bread or as a topping for pizza. I used it in a simple risotto, stirred in right at the end of the cooking process.

Straw and Hay Fettuccine Tangle with Spring Asparagus Puree
by Heidi Swanson
From Super Natural Cooking

Serves 4 to 6

1 bunch asparagus spears, trimmed and halved crosswise
3 handfuls baby spinach leaves
2 cloves garlic
1 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese, plus more for topping
1 cup toasted pine nuts
1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for topping
Juice of 1/2 lemon
1/2 teaspoon fine-grain sea salt
4 ounces dried spinach fettuccine or 6 ounces fresh
4 ounces dried egg fettuccine or 6 ounces fresh

Bring 2 pots of water to a rolling boil, one large and one medium. You'll use he large one to cook the pasta and the medium one to blanch the asparagus.

To make the asparagus puree, salt the asparagus water and drop the spears in the pot. Cook for 2 to 3 minutes, or until the spears are a bright green and barely tender. Drain and transfer to a  food processor (preferably) or a blender. Add the spinach, garlic, the 1 cup Parmesan, and 3/4 cup of the pine nuts. Puree and, with the motor running, drizzle in the 1/4 cup olive oil until a paste forms. It should be the loose consistency of a pesto; if too thick, thin it with a bit of the pasta water. Add the lemon juice and salt, then taste and adjust the seasoning.

Salt the pasta water well and cook the pasta until just tender; you'll need less time for fresh pasta, more fro dried. Drain and toss immediately with 1 cup of the asparagus puree, stirring in more afterward depending on how heavily coated you like your pasta. Serve sprinkled with the remaining 1/4 cup toasted pine nuts, a dusting of Parmesan, and a quick drizzle of extra-virgin olive oil.

Recipe reprinted with permission from the author.

Passover Postscript

While Passover is, of course, still in effect, my observance of the holiday has been lackluster save for the traditional egg matzo with whipped butter for breakfast. For last Monday's seder, I did make Joan Nathan's recipe for almendrados, almond macaroons with a hint of lemon, and they came out successfully (though I almost risked over-baking them). Bake the cookies too long and they'll harden up by the time you're ready to eat them. They're incredibly easy to make, as long as you leave time for the dough (simply almonds ground with lemon zest, sugar, and an egg) to sit overnight in your refrigerator, and they're a huge, huge improvement on store-bought coconut macaroons.

David Eyre's Pancake Redux

Back in April 2005, I wrote about the David Eyre's pancake, which was the subject of Amanda Hesser's "Recipe Redux" column in this Sunday's New York Times Magazine. In the Times piece, Hesser revisits the 1960s era recipe -- quite possibly my favorite sweet breakfast treat -- and asks chef chef Ana Sortun, of Oleana in Cambridge, Massachusetts to recast it for the 21st century (it becomes the inspiration for a savory chicken popover).

The article got me inspired to not only make the oven-baked pancake again this weekend -- still fantastic as ever -- but also to revisit my old post and highlight one of the comments, which popped up about a year later. Amazingly, Emma Eyre, granddaughter of David Eyre, serendipitously found her way to this site and shared a comment about the pancake, her grandfather's fame, and the pancake's storied role in her family history:

My grandfather is David W. Eyre, who 'made up' the recipe (he admits that he combined a couple of other pop-over and german pancake recipes). He's 94 years old now and doesn't know much about the internet, but was THRILLED to read all the comments about the pancake on this site when I printed it out for him. How exciting that people were still making this delicious thing -- and having such a sweet connection to his name! In our family, we still eat it a few times a year -- but my dad is the main chef now. When I was a little girl, my dad told me that the recipe was secret and only passed down to the male members of the family (he probably said that to my ruffle budding feminist feathers!). After three girls, a boy was finally born and my pop said "Thank heavens, the recipe will survive!" But by then, I had seen and copied down the framed copy of the NY Times recipe framed in my grandfather's kitchen... Warm aloha from Emma.

Related:
»"David Eyre's Pancake" [The Food Section]
»"1966: David Eyre’s Pancake" [New York Times Magazine]

Pasta for Baby Card Sharks

Scrounging around the cupboards this weekend for something to cook Anya for lunch, I came across a box of "Pokerina" pasta which I had picked up on my last trip to Italy. I can't imagine you would ever find this pasta shape sold in America, where gentle, benign stars and alphabets rule the day in the realm of miniature pastas. But, there it was on the shelf at the farmacia, and I took some home as a souvenir.

At 17 months, Anya has thrown off her pasta training wheels for some time, graduating to advanced noodling -- rice vermicelli, penne, spaghetti, spirale, fusilli, and orecchiette, among myriad other shapes. But, she still enjoyed these gambling-inspired morsels mixed with butter and grated Parmigiano-Reggiano, even if they left her with a bit of a poker face. Ba-dum-dum.

See also:
»Baby Gastronomy

Unseasonal Eating: Vietnamese Pork Chops

The recent descent from our unseasonably balmy winter into the current bone-chilling weather inspired an almost instinctual craving for soup -- namely, pho. After searching the boards of Chowhound, we ended up at Pho Bang, opposite Pho Bac in the Elmhurst strip mall formerly home to Joe's Shanghai (there's a healthy debate online over which restaurant is better: Pho Bang or Pho Bac. In the end, the consensus seemed to lean towards Pho Bang).

The pho didn't disappoint. The humongous bowl of broth and rice noodles draped with thin slices of beef was the warm and soothing antidote to the deep-freeze I was looking for. But, something else caught my eye (and palate): the pork chops my wife ordered. Though they were a little fatty, the sweet and tangy flavor was irresistable. And, soon enough, I had a new craving the next day to make them at home.

But, here was a problem. Grilled pork chops in the middle of winter? Despite my soup fix, maybe I was experiencing a delayed reaction to the onset of cold weather. Plus, we don't have a grill in our apartment, which would be a problem. Searching around online, I found an old "Minimalist" column by Mark Bittman (see recipe below), which takes a short cut to making Vietnamese-style pork chops. Rather than using the traditional method of caramelizing sugar with lime, Bittman substitutes honey to approximate its flavor. And if you don't have a grill, you can cook the chops under the broiler.

I made the pork along with a recipe for a rice vermicelli salad with mint, lime, and cucmber from Food & Wine. All in all, a perfect summer dish for the darkest days of winter.

Kitchen Notes: My biggest concern was that the pork chops were not going to caramelize under the broiler, but they actually did (with a few additional minutes of cooking time). The recipe for the salad calls for using a mortar and pestle to pound grind the garlic and sugar together. Instead, I used a mini-chopper to do the job, which worked fine. I accidently blended the herbs, too. Though this gave the dressing a brilliant green color, next time I would reserve some of the herbs, give them a rough chop, and toss them with the noodles separately. For leftovers, slice the pork and wrap it with the nooodles in lettuce leaves with a squeeze of Sriracha.

Vietnamese-Style Pork
by Mark Bittman
From "The Minimalist: Vietnamese Pork Chops Demystified," New York Times (September 15, 1999)

Serves 4

2 tablespoons minced lemongrass
1 tablespoon minced garlic
3 tablespoons honey
1 tablespoon nam pla, or to taste, or soy sauce
Juice of 1 lime
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper, or more to taste
1 1/2 pounds boneless pork chops or country-style ribs
1 lime, quartered
Chopped Thai basil or cilantro for garnish (optional).

1. Whisk lemongrass, garlic, honey and nam pla in large bowl. Add lime juice and pepper. Place pork in the bowl, turning to coat; let stand while you preheat grill or broiler.

2. Grill or broil pork, spooning marinade over as it cooks, until nicely done, about 10 minutes. Turn only once so that each side browns nicely. Serve with remaining lime and, if you like, the herb garnish.

Recipe reprinted with permission from the author.

SUMMER IN WINTER Above, the final dish. Below, Anya demonstrates the art of horizontal noodle eating.

Farro with Mozzarella di Bufala and Tomatoes

Earlier, when I was back in Milan, I mentioned the restaurant La Latteria San Marco (Via San Marco 24) in the Brera neighborhood. Maria presides over the restaurant -- taking orders, seating guests, and managing the small crowd that inevitably forms outside the doors of the tiny nine-table eatery In a combination of broken English and Italian, I asked her about the restaurant and found out that it had been in operation for 40 years and that the menu, which changes daily, combines cuisine from Sicily, where she was raised, and from Tuscany, where her husband Arturo comes from. Due to the language problem, this was about as far as I got.

The food is amazing and simple -- dishes like polpettine al limone (slightly flattened meatballs oozing with cheese  and doused with a lemony sauce) and contorni like a simple mash of squash. The crumbly crostata served for dessert was baked by Maria at home and filled with what tasted like creme fraiche and topped with orange marmalade.

But, one of the best things I had, and truly one of the simplest, was a first course of farro with mozzarella di bufala  and  cherry tomatoes. It was nothing more than the farro -- the barley-shaped ancient grain -- boiled in salted water and served warm and topped on one side with the tomatoes and the other with cheese. Maria dropped a bottle of extra virgin olive oil off at the table for dressing the dish as you might dress a salad table-side. The farro had a chewy texture and nutty flavor. You might think that this sounds like an ascetic dish. Boiled grains? But, the olive oil and creamy mozzarella offered some richness, and the tomatoes provided a fresh and juicy textural contrast. It was excellent, healthful, and very easy to replicate at home. Some recipes will tell you to soak and cook the farro for hours, but for this dish, I found that boiling the grains in salted water for 15 to 20 minutes (before draining them) yielded just the right consistency.

Sources:
A cursory search for information online about farro will tell you that the grain is simply Italian for spelt, or the opposite: a grain that is similar, but something else entirely. If you know more, please fill us in below in the comments. You can find farro at gustiamo.com, Chefshop.com, and Ditalia.com, among other purveyors.

Roasted Chicken with Cherry Tomatoes

As much as I may try to resist the Rachael Ray-ificatio of the Dining In category of this site, I'm afraid that fatherhood has wrought a rapid and (seemingly) permanent reduction in the window of time for weeknight cooking.

The great thing about this recipe for chicken breasts roasted with cherry tomatoes, herbs, and garlic (from Bon Appétit via The Wednesday Chef) is that while the dish only takes five minutes (or less) to get ready and cooks for just 35 minutes, it doesn't taste like a quick-cook meal. In such a brief time in the oven, the skin develops a salty, garlicky crunch; meanwhile, as the tomatoes cook and collapse, their juice melds with the chicken drippings and olive oil to form a sauce that constitutes almost a shallow braise, infusing the chicken from below. The result is chicken that is extremely juicy and flavorful.

Kitchen Notes: Cooking the chicken on a baking sheet (with a rim to contain the juices) seems critical, as it allows you to keep everything on one layer. I could not find marjoram, so I ended up substituting fresh oregano, which worked (Luisa from The Wednesday Chef also had success with dried rosemary) [Update: It works nicely with fresh rosemary, too]. Because the pieces of chicken were huge, I cut each breast into two sections to make the dish more manageable. Finally (and reluctantly), I skipped the (crucial) addition of adding crushed red pepper: my wife is not keen on spicy food, and I didn't want to add insult to injury to the teething gums of our baby daughter. Molars are upon us (well, her).

From the Archives: Crispy Potato Pancakes

This post originally appeared on December 16, 2003.

I wish I could say that my potato latkes originate from a family recipe passed down from generation to generation, but this is not the case. Greasy and soggy is how I remember the potato pancakes that my grandmother made. What made them so bad? Too much flour? A heavy hand on the onion? Her embrace of the electric blender, rather than hand-grating the potatoes? Thankfully, I was steered toward a better potato pancake during a summer working at Bette’s Oceanview Diner on Fourth Street in Berkeley, California.

I worked as a dishwasher, and for 10 hours a day (12 at first, until I picked up speed), cleaned every plate, pot, and pan dirtied in a day’s work. During crunch times, I was inevitably called upon to re-supply the cooks with huge cartons of eggs, or dump crates of oranges into the juicing machine.

Once in a while, to the call of “Pot Pan” (Bette’s shop-talk for potato pancake) yelled back from the grill, I was pressed into action to shred potatoes to order for plates of Bette’s potato pancakes. The pancakes were based on the Kartoffelpuffer, a German potato pancake that was a childhood food of Bette’s husband (and Bette's Diner co-owner), Manfred Kroening.

Made mainly of shredded potatoes, with a small amount of minced onion, and just enough egg and flour to bind the potatoes together, these potato pancakes were a revelation. The flat nests of potato strands had an incredibly crunchy exterior, yet remained soft inside. Golden brown, crispy, and (relatively) grease-less, Bette’s latkes were in complete contrast to the ones most of us grew up with.

Rules of the Game
Bette's basic recipe is available here online, but here are some additional tips to ensure “Pot Pan” success:

1. Mise en place. Just as in the restaurant, have all of the ingredients ready to go before the potato shredding commences (peel the potatoes, mince the onions, and get the egg mixture ready [see #2]). To prevent the potatoes from browning, they may be peeled in advance and kept covered with water, but once they are shredded, you must work fast.
2. Beat the eggs and flour together. This is how it was done in the restaurant, despite what the recipe indicates.
3. The miracle of the oil. When frying, use a generous amount of oil. I use peanut oil, which will not burn during the cooking process.
4. The miracle of the food processor. A hand grater works perfectly well, but you can also save time, and your knuckles, by using a food processor with the grating blade.
5. Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze. Squeeze as much liquid out of the shredded potatoes as possible, pressing them against the side of the bowl to release their starchy water.
6. Serve immediately. Though I’ve never tried to keep them warm in the oven, I fear that this might lead to a fall-off in crispiness.

On the Side
Applesauce and sour cream a