Slow Roasted Creamy Rosemary Red Potatoes

I’m a snob. I admit it. But today I ran across a recipe for roasted rosemary potatoes that just needed to be corrected. No, you don’t have to believe me. I’m sure those yukons were just fine. I bet they were good, even. Adequate. But among my little group of starch addicted fiends, there is one way to do truly great roasted taters – and it is simple. But it is not fast. Never fast. In fact, it’s obscenely long. But patience is truly rewarding. It’s true for revenge. It’s true for weather. And it’s oh so true for potatoes…especially the red ones that make this sing. But let’s cut to the chase. Long and slow is good for cooking, not babbling on the web, so much.

This is not a recipe. This is step towards love. There are no measurements, that’s just silly. A lot like those magazines that make me nuts with “new mashed potato recipes” every darn fall. Let it go. Be simple. Be straight. You’ve eaten before, act accordingly. The secret here is not how much but how long. You need just three things and some olive oil, and a pan, and an oven… and some time. Okay that’s more than three. But here’s the list for those of you simply must have a list:

Sea salt.
Rosemary
Red potatoes
Olive oil

Use the nice sea salt. It’s natural. It’s got great flavor. It really does make a difference. And while you’re at it – go get that book “Salt” – it’s a good time eater and you’ll need something to do while you wait on these beauties. As for rosemary, I’m a little partial to fresh ground myself, but use whatever the heck you have… and use your judgment on how much. This is seasoning folks. It ain’t rocket science. But let’s back track for the step-by-step obsessive that I know are out there.

1. Put the oven on… now listen, I’m serious here – put it on 250 degrees. Yeah. I know. Just do it. In fact, make it 225 if that makes you uncomfortable. Trust me. Let go of the whole “hurry up and make things” mentality. This is going to take all afternoon. Adapt to the truth of it. Plan accordingly.

2. Cut up your potatoes so there’s approximately a uniform size – this helps everybody cook the same. Try to err on the larger side, tiny ones will lack the fulsome love we are inspiring.

3. Put them in a big bowl. Pour some olive oil on top. Then sprinkle the rosemary and the salt in and stir. Stir a lot so everybody’s coated.

4. Lay them across a nice big cookie sheet. Don’t pour a ton of oil in there, they coated themselves in the bowl and we’re not frying here, we’re roasting.

5. Put the pan in the oven. Shut the door. And let them cook for about two hours, maybe three. Yeah. I know. It’s the whole point. LONG. SLOW. LOW. That’s what makes them sooooo good. By the way, if you’re feeling fancy you can toss in some cut up garlic. Sometimes I do. Sometimes I don’t. Call it the whimsy factor.

In any case – what you’re gonna do is EYEBALL them after about two hours when you come back in from raking leaves, making cocktails, whatever… reading if you like that kind of thing. You’re looking for them to be a wee bit shrivelly looking, but not totally desiccated. Cut one in half and see what the inside is like if you get scared. I find that if I get impatient, kicking up the heat to 300 AFTER two hours can shorten the time and do okay. It’s pretty hard to do bad things unless you’ve cut them too small. So don’t. And if you get impatient, learn to improve yourself. Walk it off. Wait. And trust.

Because after about 2.5 hours – you’ll find a slightly crunchy, tough exterior that is filled with the creamiest, butteriest mixture inside. It’s hard to believe really. It’s like a potato stuffed with mashed potato that’s flavored like roast potatoes. And all it takes is time. And patience. Even I freak out now and then and check them, I admit it. That’s a long time to ignore something in the oven. But in all seriousness, the best ones take about 2.5 hours. And are sooo worth the wait. Besides, it’s not like you have to stand there babysitting them. You just have to trust a little. Let go of the fear…set a timer. Avert your eyes.

And isn’t trust a nice skill to build anyway? Sure, you can roast them like everybody else, but whatever. Why not just go buy a darn box of pre-fried starch substitute. Because that’s not what we’re here for is it? Speed has never been the big blue ribbon of good food. Slow. Low. Buttery lovely red potatoes…. I think I just drooled again. It’s a texture worth the wait. Seriously. I know it sounds obscene. Three hours for potatoes??? But it’s a lovely result that is unlike anything else.