The World's Best Fried Potatoes

It's a good thing I love to cook because this house has a lot of mouths to feed. I believe in real food whenever possible. Although it is definitely hard to take the plunge and leave convenience foods in the dust, I know it can be done. Because my table seats eight and it is almost always full, and the plates on it hold from-scratch meals 90% of the time. 

I am not superwoman. I am actually just a frazzled, mildly overstretched mother like many of you. And if I can feed my family real food, you can too. Really. 

One of the tricks to putting a real meal on the table is keeping versatile staples that don't spoil quickly. You can always, always, always find red potatoes in my house. Red Potatoes are surprisingly healthy, relatively cheap, and can be used with just about any meal. They can be grilled, mashed (I always leave the skin on), or roasted.

The most common way for me to cook them, though, is to fry them. Now don't assume I've just ruined the health benefits. Hear me out. 

Fried red potatoes (or "spicy little potatoes" as my Asher calls them) are kind of my plan B. If I forgot to defrost something, or forgot to start the crock-pot, or forgot to stop at the grocery store on the way home (I told you, I'm frazzled), I can throw a meal together in less than 30 minutes with red potatoes and whatever is in the fridge or freezer. Usually, some baked fish and sautéed veggies will accompany these for dinner. Or maybe they will be topped with easy over eggs and served alongside fresh fruit. Or they might be rolled into whole-wheat tortillas with scrambled eggs and cheese, or else baked into a frittata. Really….you can scrounge up a meal without convenience foods. And if it has potatoes in it, even a family with four small boys, a couple of visiting teenagers and a hungry husband won't complain. Ask me how I know.

I've had several friends attempt fried potatoes in their own home, and quite a few of them have told me that theirs didn't turn out the same. Here's why:

I'm a firm believer that these things are a must if you really want the world's best fried potatoes. Otherwise, they may just be average. First, you need a cast iron pan. You can read my feelings on cast iron here. When you are using well seasoned cast iron, hardly any oil is necessary. See, I told you this wasn't an unhealthy recipe. Next, the oil I DO use is very important. I cook primarily with coconut oil. You can get a 54 oz jar on Amazon for around 20 dollars here: Nutiva Organic Virgin Coconut Oil, 54-Ounce Jar. If you have a membership to somewhere like Sam's or Costco, you can check with them. I buy my jars there for about 16 dollars each. I know this may seem steep for oil if you aren't used to buying it, but it lasts a good while and it is totally worth it. Check out this link for the health benefits of coconut oil. And lastly, I only use kosher salt and course ground (or fresh ground) pepper. I don't have a lot list of why you should use these. You just should. Because they taste exponentially better.
Also, on fried potatoes, I used granulated garlic. I'm a big fan of using fresh garlic, but for this purpose, the granulated is better because it won't burn or add extra moisture while you are trying to get crispy potatoes. Go with granulated on this one.

Another important part of making your fried potatoes a success is to get them cut into fairly small pieces. Big chunks just don't cook through as quickly, and they are better this way.

So here is the "official" recipe, the best I can do it. I usually don't measure things, but I did for the purpose of telling you how to do this. However, you may want to taste and add more seasoning if you life things spicy. We do. I usually put more seasoning than this but I toned it down for the sake of this recipe.



The World's Best Easy Fried Potatoes

5-6 medium red potatoes (diced)
2 T. Coconut oil
1/2 T. Kosher salt
1/2 T. Course Ground Pepper
1/2 T. Granulated Garlic

Heat cast iron pan over medium heat.
Melt the coconut oil in a well-seasoned cast iron pan (if you feel like you need more oil, add it a little at a time. If you put too much in, your potatoes won't get crispy).
Once the pan is hot, put the potatoes in.
Evenly sprinkle on the salt, pepper and garlic.
Stir every few minutes to keep them from sticking.
They will be cook through in about 20-25 minutes. You can keep cooking them to get them crispier, but just watch them and make sure they don't burn.

Turn off the heat and serve.

Becoming Country

This article was originally published in Do South Magazine. Check out their website here for my monthly contributions. 

You will never really understand how city you are until your life shifts and you find yourself removed from suburbia. I’ve harbored a homestead dream for as long as my memory can reach. At the age of twelve, my cousin walked me through his Texas back yard, showing me the neat rows of vegetables and how to feed chickens. Then he introduced me to the pig.

“This is Bacon,” he said.

“Why’s he called Bacon?” I asked.

“Because. We’re gonna eat him,” he replied nonchalantly. Seeing my alarm, he added “But we’re good to him, see. It’s kinder this way. Better than how factories raise them up like they don’t matter.”

“Cool.” I said. And I meant it.

That evening, my sister sat at the table and downright refused her dinner that we learned came from their last pig, Porkchop. I, on the other hand, decided then and there. One day I would have a pig named Bacon, too.

The dream didn’t die. While my peers pledged sororities, I read books on goat husbandry and growing things. While they purchased starter homes, my pile of books grew, books on beekeeping and chicken care and living off the land. For years I have perused seed catalogs with prayers on my lips and buried deep in my heart. Please, God, could I have this?

He answered in the most unplanned timing, when I had finally chosen to be content. I had just agreed to wait until the kids were older and money was less scarce when my dream came true by way of a vandalized foreclosure on four acres. It was the kind of deal people could hardly believe. “This is God,” I told them, “He, who hears my prayers.” They all awed at the house, and the potential for equity. But it was the land that captivated me. To my homesteader’s heart, just the idea of four acres caused a flutter of disbelief. It ignited my imagination.

Four acres. Do you feel it?

If you are like me, you hear four acres and you instantly see the gentle glow of an orange bell pepper lit up in the Arkansas sun. You can almost feel the skin of a freshly picked berry bursting warm against your teeth and hear the sound of chickens clucking around your imaginary muck boots. Four acres is no farm. It will never pay the bills. But coming from a sleepy suburban neighborhood, a stack of books, and a far off dream, four acres is everything I’ve ever wanted.

I would have been content to leave the house packed until October, instead spending the summer elbow deep in the earth, but reason won out. I suppose it’s a good thing. It would have been a long few months with five children at home and only a garden to entertain them. We worked through the spring and now the inside of our home is functional. The walls are painted and the boxes are unpacked. And I am the proud owner of a big pile of wood that my husband assures me will take the form of raised beds and a chicken coop in the coming months.

Patience has never been my strong suit. I like to think I live with abandon because that somehow seems more admirable, but you could call me reckless and you wouldn’t be lying. This is a trait that I fight. Recklessness usually yields regret. So while I stand at the brink of breaking ground on the homestead of my dreams, I am repeatedly reminding myself of something. Waiting rooms are great classrooms. These transitions between the before and the after are often the places that require stillness the most, or else we risk missing out on valuable lessons from our wise and patient Teacher.

While I wait, I am learning to become country.

Surely, you think, the difference between city dwellers and country folks is merely one of geographical location. But you would be wrong. I was wrong. I thought that because I so ardently desired to build a life outside the city limits, and because I was so well read on the process of doing this, that there wouldn’t be many necessary adjustments. I was born for this life.

It doesn’t matter how badly you want it, adjustments are going to be necessary.

Being twenty-five minutes from town makes a difference. I thought it would just alter how I plan my days and eliminate late night Kroger-runs for ice cream. But now I’m finding myself with this mindset of my comfort zone, which is home, and the rest of the world, which takes almost half an hour and three dollars in gas to reach. I never imagined that I would feel like I’d moved so far and that things had changed so much. Home is where I want to be.

It’s not the drive that makes me feel this way either. I enjoy the drive. I expected to hate the extra time spent in the car just to do things like go to church and buy groceries. Instead, I’ve found it so incredibly peaceful. I make the rural trek to town, admiring the explosion of wildflowers on the roadside, and am in awe. I get to live here. Before, in all my years of being city, I had never seen a horse play, running full bore down a hillside and rolling in the grass with hooves aloft. Now, thanks to my drive, I have seen it many times. I have stopped on the side of the road to look into the doleful eyes of a heifer nursing a newborn calf. “I know how you feel,” I told her. Under blue skies and toiling dark ones, I have talked to God in the very midst of His creation. This drive is good for me.

There is something about the country that just makes me feel so completely alive and small, and so undeniably created. It’s easy to become so submerged into a manmade world that we are blinded to that which God made. Now, even though the land and creatures around me are divided by our fences and cultivated by our tools, I am overwhelmed by the inexplicable wildness of it all.

The winged things that get trapped on our screened porch are the stuff of nightmares. I couldn’t name them if I tried, and it amazes me that they have been living so near for so long. They are as foreign to me as if they were from Africa. The ivy and the honeysuckle and every form of plant grows like maybe they know how greatly they outnumber us and our weed whackers. They stretch out with ferocity, glorious victors of a revolution. There is never a moment without some noise, some chirp or hum or buzz.

Oh, and the stars. How have I gone my whole life without being able to see these stars every night? Of course, they are direction for the lost with how brightly they shine. They are diamonds, artwork, with marvelous constellations. How many nights did we waste with our darkness lit by streetlights and a TV screen while these very stars burned on past the light pollution and our range of view? Such a shame.

I have watched my sons take to this new ground like transplanted tomato plants. Tobias, the toddler, has been in the creek as often as the dog. As soon as his eyes open in the morning, the first word he shouts is “Milk!” and the second is “Outside!” Mud seems to run in his veins. Ezra, the baby, is fearless, toddling through the grass, giggling as he grabs for fireflies. Jackson and Asher, my second and third-grade sons, are less sure. They were a little root bound where they were planted, with their sidewalks and after-school Baskin Robbins. It was all they knew, and this new life seemed to offer much less at first glance. Then they learned to climb trees. We explored the woods and found blackberries. They caught a blue-tailed lizard and started to believe that they, deep down, were country too.

When this house and it’s impossibly cheap price tag, which was all we could afford, fell into our laps, I kept coming back to Ephesians 3:20. “Now all glory to God, who is able, through his mighty power at work within us, to accomplish infinitely more than we might ask or think.” I just thought He was giving me my homestead dream. But I have realized in this short time of waiting that God didn’t give me this house just so I could make my own pickles and eat fresh eggs every morning. He was handing me a tool to raise our kids in a different world, a world where we can easily teach them hard work because there is so much of it to do. He was enabling us to teach them quiet in a generation that was born into noise and screens and distractions. It is a home to raise our family, not just a house.

He gave us four acres, a little bit of this earth He crafted, a little living piece of His creative wonder.

Four acres.

Do you feel it?

All About Cast Iron: Where to start and why you should.

I bought my first cast iron pan when I was twenty. We had just made the 500 mile move to Tennessee, to a real, grown-up apartment, with one small boy in tow. I fancied myself a homemaker, and in order to feel equipped, I ordered a 10 inch lodge fry pan to meet me on my front door.

I was remembering Costella, the precious woman that raised my dad and his siblings. I was remembering her standing in my Grandmother's kitchen and telling me the secrets to cooking. She taught me to roll dumplings on the counter, to shake chicken and flour in a paper bag and then drop it into a heavy, grease-slicked cast iron pan. "Don't even fool with frying chicken in anything else," she said. "It won't turn out the same." And then she gave me a piece. It burned my mouth. I was ten.

I washed my first cast iron pan in the dishwasher. Costella had impressed upon me the merits of cast iron but had never touched on the care of it. When it turned orange with rust, I put it in a hard to reach cabinet and forgot about it.

in 2009, I received Mad Hungry: Feeding Men and Boys for Christmas. In it, Lucinda Scala Quinn sings the praises of cast iron and I thought, "Hey, I have one of those".  It was all downhill from there. Having gained a little more experience in the kitchen, I was able to appreciate how truly awesome cast iron cookware is. My collection today would make Costella proud.

In fact, the last conversation I had with her, although she was not entirely lucid and thought I was my mother, was about cast iron. She told me about seasoning it. About never letting soap touch it. About keeping it to give to my babies when I'm too old to fry chicken anymore.

She sat there in her chair, a faded, framed photo of MLK on the wall behind her, her wig slightly askew and her stockings drooping on her shrunken legs. I remember that moment so clearly because I wanted to take her photo and I didn't. This beautiful woman, our bonus grandmother, who loved us all like she had delivered us into the world herself . When I look back to that moment, what I remember most is what it meant to watch someone fade away. And in the years since then, I've learned the regret of not capturing a moment when your heart is moved to. This is why I take photos of everyday things, of odd things, and even sad things…because I wish I could show you Costella now, on the last day we spoke, the day she taught me about cast iron pans.

So, you may ask, why cook with cast iron?

1.  It's incredibly cheap.

I'll start with this point, because frankly, it's what drives most of us. Especially those of us with families and plenty of things we would rather buy than pans. You can get an entire set of Lodge cast iron on Amazon for less than 65 bucks here: Lodge 5-Piece Cast Iron Cookware Set, Black 

 The linked set above contains a 10 inch griddle, a 10 inch skillet, and 8 inch skillet and a 5 quart dutch oven with a lid. If you don't want to make that big of a commitment, I recommend just getting a 10.25-Inch skillet to start out. That will run you between 15-18 dollars depending on where you buy it. 

Also, you can find cast iron pans at garage and estate sales. Some of my best pieces I paid less than a dollar for and just had to put in some work getting the rust off. Then it has a story.

 I love things with a story. 

2.  It will last forever.

The worst damage you can do to a cast iron pan is put it in the dishwasher and ruin the seasoning. But it can be restored even then. Your cast iron pans will outlive you. You don't have to worry about someone messing up the non-stick coating or burning a bunch of stuff to the bottom. For someone like me, not being able to ruin it is a huge plus. 

3. It's so much easier than you think. 

One of the things that I hear a lot when I talk about cast iron is "But it's so much work."

That couldn't be further from the truth. 

Really, caring for cast iron is more about what you DON'T do. 

Don't EVER put it in the dishwasher. Trust me on that one.

Don't put soap on it. If you accidentally do (or a well meaning friend cleaning up after dinner does), don't sweat it. Just rub it down with some oil and it should be fine, though it make take a few meals to get it good and slick again. 

Usually, all you need to do is scrub it with hot water and a stiff scrub brush. Dry it off with a towel (or put it on a hut burner for a few minutes) and if it's looking a little dry (not shiny), just wipe it down with a paper towel and some vegetable oil. 

To season a new cast iron pan or one that has had a soapy encounter, wipe it down well with vegetable oil or shortening. Then bake it in a 325 degree oven for an hour or two. This isn't exact science. I've tried all kinds of oils on my pans, but truthfully, I like using shortening best. Yes, as in Crisco. I know it's gross stuff but I keep a little tub of it just for my cast iron. It is, after all, what Costella told me to use. 

4. It's significantly healthier. 

Once your pan is well seasoned (and that doesn't count the "pre-seasoning" it comes with when you buy it), it is virtually non-stick. You can use much less oil even when cooking things like fried potatoes or eggs. Because it doesn't need a non-stick coating to be non-stick, it is a great chemical free alternative to coated pans. If you've ever done even the slightest research about Teflon, you will want to ban it from your kitchen.  And unlike so many things that require a lot of money or commitment to make a healthier choice, cast iron is easy and cheap, remember?

5. Food cooked in cast iron tastes good. 

Because food can be cooked in cast iron with less oil, you really get to enjoy the flavor of the food. I actually enjoy steaks cooked on cast iron more than ones cooked on the grill. Also, iron distributes heat evenly so you don't end up with hot spots or burned bits quite as easily as other pans. 

6. It's super versatile. 

Cast iron can be used for SO many things. You can use it in your kitchen, on the stove top and in the oven. You can take it camping, cooking over a wood stove or a fire. It generally cooks very evenly and also retains heat, so it keeps food warm on the stove for a long while. 

I cook the majority of our food in cast iron. I cook sauces, meat, and veggies in my skillets. We use them for pancakes, cornbread and baking things like fish and chicken breasts. I cook soups, stews, roasts, and rice in my enameled dutch ovens. I have even used them to bake loaves of bread! (You may notice i said dutch ovens. Yes, plural. We have two 7 quart dutch ovens that get used a ton because we have a huge family and are often feeding 20 people at once. One large dutch oven should suffice for most families.) We have a 15-inch skillet that is roughly the size of a manhole cover but is crucial for the best chicken recipe in the history of ever. (In all seriousness, you need to make the chicken. If I had to choose only 5 foods to eat for the rest of my life, this would be the only meat I'd choose.) I really can't think of much you CAN'T make with the right cast iron pan. Muffins. I've never made muffins. But I have made cake, so.


So, where do you buy it?

All of the links in this post so far take you to Amazon. This is probably one of the cheaper places to buy cast iron brand new. You can also get it at Wal-Mart, Target, or any store that sells camping gear (think Academy Sports, Dick's Sporting Goods, Gander Mountain.) Look out for it at garage sales and estate sales. Usually, if it's in flea markets, it's been marked up but sometimes you can find a deal.
If you find a used piece that is rusty, you can follow this tutorial on how to get it clean without using harsh chemicals.  You basically just have to get the rust off then re-season. It's totally worth doing if you find a good deal.

Additional tips

If you do buy a brand new cast iron pan, go ahead and scrub it with soapy water. They coat it with something to make it non-stick but it doesn't work well and I imagine it's not very healthy for you. Just wash it and then season it yourself.

The first handful of times you use your pan, you want to try to cook higher fat things. Like bacon or hamburger meat. It takes a little while to get it good and slick where things like potatoes won't stick to it. But bear with it. It's worth it.

There are a lot of cheap cast iron pans out there, most of which are china made. For a more affordable option, I always lean towards Lodge because it is USA made (except for the enameled pots).

So, there you have it. The nitty gritty of cast iron. Tell me, what is your cast iron story? Your favorite pan? Favorite dish to cook in it? I'd love to hear from you!



*The links above are affiliate links. This means that a percentage of any purchase you make while using one of my links goes to support The Hodgepodge Darling blog. Thank you so much for helping me pursue my dream!

Strike a fancy - The week in review

Whew. What a week. The summer, as expected, has started out in a whirlwind of activity. 

Miah and I traveled to San Antonio last weekend to pick up Maliah for the summer. We went down a day early and enjoyed some much needed time together before we came back to tackle the next several weeks.  

One of our favorite things to do when traveling through big cities is to visit places that have been featured on the T.V. show Diners, Drive-ins and Dives.  We found ourselves in Dallas around lunchtime so we did a quick search online, watched a few episodes of DD&D on YouTube, and decided on Cane Rosso. It's a Neapolitan style pizza place with awesome atmosphere…

But frankly, I would have been happy to sit in a cardboard box and eat this pizza. 

It was insanely good. We had the Zoli and the Delia (bacon jam on a pizza. what?). I was sold when I read "house made cheese". Make your own cheese and I will love you. We will definitely be stopping here again in the future. 

The rest of our trip was short, but good.  I can never quite get over how big the sky is in Texas. 

We came back and I had a package in the mail from Do South Magazine, copies of the June issue in which The Cheerleader was published. It's really nice to have a copy of this article that has changed so many lives (mine included) that I can hold in my hands. And I adore this magazine and am thrilled that I will be contributing to it more in the future! 

Speaking of April, yesterday we had the opportunity to meet with some precious friends of ours for lunch. It was so wonderful to talk about Jesus and everything He is doing in our lives. Please continue to lift the Smith family in your prayers. I can't even begin to tell you the incredible work God is doing in and around them. Just wait though, you'll see. 

Some other things that have struck my fancy this week:

• I started reading Nevertheless, I Live by Mona Adkisson. Mona was kind enough to send April and me both copies of her book after reading about April's story. It is a beautiful testimony of faith and hope in the face of loss.  
• Added this lovely book to my Amazon wish list: Preserving by the Pint: Quick Seasonal Canning for Small Spaces from the author of Food in Jars. It looks pretty awesome. 
• Been collaborating with Reed Silk Studio  to bring you something exciting in the following weeks. Check back for an opportunity to win a lovely play silk for your little one. 
• Came across this AMAZING deal on Lodge cast iron cookware and will definitely be writing about it's merits soon: Lodge 5-Piece Cast Iron Cookware Set, Black  
• This thought provoking piece about the idolatry of modesty in the church. What do you think?
• My friend gifted April and me beautiful bracelets she had made by Kimber's Kreations. I absolutely love mine, as well as the rest of her work. Check her out. 
• I am on a major Chia kick. This recipe from Refinery 29 is happening in my house soon. 
• Homemade almond milk is also on the to-do list this week. Because I have a 3 lb bag of almonds and a milk-sensitive toddler. So, you know. Logic and all. 
• Discovered Noosa Yoghurt this week. Just do it. You can thank me later. 

And lastly, just a bit of a glimpse into the last several days of our life. For all the fun and sweetness that I can't share in words. 

From my family to yours, have a beautiful week.


Jessica

The fortunate happening of family being friends.

Meet Amy. She's my best friend.

Our moms are sisters.

I am generally adverse to calling people names that they are not. 

For instance, I never say "This person is my brother" unless they are, in fact, my brother. There are too many proper adjective to describe people to lean on ones that aren't true. 

So I have always called Amy my cousin, which she is, where as others might choose to simplify things and just say "We are sisters".

We have done our entire lives together. She was at the hospital when I was born. We went through years of childhood off to a corner at family gatherings with eyes and ears for no one else. As soon as I got my drivers license, I made the 2 hour drive to Eldorado whenever my parents and gas tank would allow. And unlike many people who just grow apart, we just kept on growing in the same direction. 

When I had my first son, Amy said "I can't just call him my second cousin. I'm going to call him my nephew". And I said "Whatever you need to do."

Life carried us on. I moved, she moved. We spent a while over 700 miles apart, but still talked every day. I moved home to Central Arkansas. A few weeks later, when crisis hit, I called and said "I need you." and she said "I think I need you, too."

So she came. 

Our lives, even when completely different, still were connected by some common thread.

We both found our happily ever afters. 

We ended up going to the same church, getting involved. 

We prayed a lot for her to have a baby. 

And she did. 

Audrey. 

And I realized I could never just call her my second cousin. 

This year, God answered my own prayer. For a chance at a simpler life, a chance to homestead.

He gave me a house. 

Do you know how I knew it was perfect?

It was 5.2 miles from Amy. 

So now, after all this time of being all over the place, physically far away but still close. 

Now, we are just…close. 

You see, in the country, 5.2 miles means you're neighbors. 

It's funny, because this whole time, we've never really made these decisions for each other.

It's just sort of happened this way. 

I kind of love these moments where you see deliberation in your life. Because you see, these intentional connections that were completely beyond your control, these are the fingerprints of God.

Amy and I have talked about homesteading for a long time. We have a plan. For a long time it was a "what-if" plan. Then it became a "maybe someday" plan. This year is became a "soon" plan. 

Now it is just our life.

This morning we milked Amy's goats. 

Because we are no longer girls that talk about wanting goats and chickens and to live nearby each other on little homesteads. 

We just do. 

Isn't God good to us?

You will see more of our adventures. 

And when you see these people, and you hear me refer to them, you will know why

my cousin has a daughter who is my niece.