The secret to delicious potato skins

So I consider myself a fairly decent cook – but there are just some things that always taste better at restaurants. For me, one of those dishes has always been potato skins. Although I’m hesitant to admit, some of the best potato skins I’ve ever eaten were at Bennigan’s in Gainesville.  You’re sitting there saying, seriously? Bennigan’s? I actually think that’s what I had for lunch after Larry and I went to the doctor’s office that morning and confirmed I was pregnant with Dana.

I hope you know what I mean when I talk about perfect potato skins – the ones where the potatoes are hot, the cheese is bubbling - but not gummy - and bits of bacon peek out from under the cheese. There’s a scattering of scallions gracing the plate and alongside, a heaping spoonful of sour cream. I’ve tried to replicate this dish for years, but always felt there was something missing in my preparation.

I’m excited to share that I’ve discovered the secret to truly terrific potato skins and I found it in one of my favorite cooking websites: https://cooking.nytimes.com. There you’ll find a recipe titled “Serious Potato Skins.” Now, I know what you’re thinking: really, potato skins in The New York Times?

So what’s the key? Bacon. Well, of course. Bacon makes everything better. But here’s the secret part: to make potato skins really delicious, you don’t just add the aforementioned scattering of bacon, but you bathe the skins in BACON FAT before adding the toppings.

Here’s my slightly edited version of The New York Times’ recipe:

INGREDIENTS

4 Idaho baking potatoes
8 ounces thick-cut bacon, diced
6 ounces sharp cheddar cheese, grated
1 bunch scallions
Kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper
1 cup sour cream

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Rub the potatoes lightly with butter and bake them on the wire racks of your oven for an hour, turning halfway through and piercing each one once with a fork to release some of the steam. Transfer the potatoes to a wire rack and let cool for 10 minutes.

While the potatoes are cooking, assemble the toppings. Cook the bacon in a large skillet over medium heat until crisp, then transfer to a small bowl. Reserve the bacon fat (important step)!! Trim and thinly slice the scallions.

Cut each potato into quarters lengthwise to create four wedges. Using a small spoon, scoop the flesh from each wedge, leaving 1/4 inch or more of the flesh. (Save the scooped potatoes for another use).

Set the oven to broil. Place the wedges on a foil-lined baking sheet. Paint a bit of bacon fat on each, then top with cheese and bacon. Place under the broiler until the cheese is bubbling. Place the skins on a serving plate. Season with salt and pepper. Spoon sour cream alongside and scatter the scallions over the plate.

Trust me. These are amazing. 

Saying good-bye to Robbie and my Aunt Irma

Last Sunday in New York City was a glorious day. It was the first really warm day of the spring – over 80 degrees – and our favorite café along the Hudson River was finally open after a long winter season.  Our extended family of four – me, Larry, Dana and Nate – sat by the water for more than two hours, downing two bottles of Prosecco and a handful of Coronas. It was pure bliss.

It was during the latter minutes of sitting by the sparkling water that the first Facebook message came through sharing news of the death of a shining light of a man who had been a friend in our earlier Gainesville life. Robbie was just – it’s hard to explain – but he was just larger-than-life, with the most wonderful grin sharing space on his face with these marvelously twinkling blue eyes.  Robbie – along with his partner Dan – managed the wine shop whose door I often entered. He was one of a handful of people allowed to call me “Q” – and he gave me one of my more memorable nicknames: Chardonnay slut. I can still hear him yelling “Hey Q – I have several new bottles you HAVE to try.” Note: Thankfully, we’ve branched out a bit in our choice of wines, 15+ years later.

I still remember coming home from work and having my family (all of them – Larry, Dana and Jenni) sitting me on the couch and telling me they had awful news. I half expected them to share that someone had died. Instead, it was news that the wine shop had fired both Dan and Robbie – and that these guys who had become like family would help us no more. It took that wine shop a long time to recover – because Dan and Robbie had built a family of people who loved to shop with them. It was years before I entered its doors again.

We attempted to stay in touch with Robbie and Dan, but it was tough. Robbie battled demons – and after a while, news filtered through Gainesville that he and Dan had separated,and that Robbie had moved to a small Tennessee town where his family lived. We stayed closer to Dan - seeing him at a new wine shop he managed and having him handle the alcohol for the engagement party we threw for Dana and Nate. Later, with the wonder of Facebook, I connected again with Robbie and we’d occasionally chat online – sharing what life was like for him in a small, conservative town in Tennessee compared with my upbringing in an equally small Kentucky town. I’m sure it wasn’t easy for him – can’t imagine any places more opposite than Gainesville, Florida and a rural Tennessee town.

Late Sunday afternoon – about the time I’d gotten my head around Robbie's death – my phone rang and my cousin Carla’s name appeared on the screen. While my cousins and I have done a better job of staying in touch over the past few years, I always figure when one of them is calling, it’s not likely to be good news. And it wasn’t.

Carla was calling to share that her Mom – my Aunt Irma, the wife of my Dad’s younger brother, Cecil – had died earlier that day. Aunt Irma was one of the two relatives from my parents’ generation – either side – still alive. She was a wonderful woman – who along with Cecil raised five children, the oldest a boy who died of muscular dystrophy at a young age. The only one left now from my parents' generation is Uncle Kenny’s wife, Florence. I hope this doesn’t sound mean, but Aunt Florence usually wasn’t at family outings because she didn't feel well, and my Mom – who could be quite feisty – said on more than one occasion that even though Aunt Florence never felt well, she’d likely outlive them all. She has.

I spent the rest of that Sunday night trying to figure out how to get to Louisville for Aunt Irma’s funeral. I didn’t succeed. Thanks to the ridiculous system we have for air travel in this country, I couldn’t find a flight from New York to Louisville for less than $900 – unless you count the almost $600 flight I could take from New York to Orlando – yes Orlando – and then to Louisville. You can’t be serious!?

So, this Friday, I’ll think of my Kentucky family as they say good-bye to my Aunt Irma – and I’m sure somewhere in Tennessee, Robbie’s family will celebrate his life and send his sweet soul soaring. I hope both families will know how many people – whether there in person or scattered around the globe – will be with them in spirit, and hope and pray that their memories will provide them comfort.