I decided to start taping conversations between Paul and I. He will inevitably be found doing something illegal (maybe growing something he shouldn’t be in his garden) and Liberation BC (AKA PETA) will make him a confidential informant. I’ve suspected him leaning to the ‘left’ since he refused to sign my “Margaret Thatcher for the sainthood” petition.
To take away his thunder, I wanted to share with you a recent conversation where he came to my house and begged me for my Sicilian potato recipe. Should this come to light in court, I want everyone to know that he approached me, not the other way around.
Paul:
“Please Fletti, give me your precious potato recipe. I will offer my third and forth borns to you in return.”
Me:
“Paul, we have known each other many years, but this is the first time you’ve come to me for counsel or for help. I can’t remember the last time you invited me to your house for a cup of coffee, even though my wife is date-night babysitter to your two children. But let’s be frank here. You never wanted my friendship. And you feared to be in my debt. I understand. You found paradise in the company of my smoker. You had a good trade, you made a good living. The police protected you and there were courts of law. So you didn’t need a friend like me. Now you come and say “Chris Fletti, give me justice.” But you don’t ask with respect. You don’t offer friendship. You don’t even think to call me “Godfather.”
You come into my house on the day I make my Sicilian potatoes and you ask me to show you the recipe. Rovers, Rovers, what have I ever done to make you treat me so disrespectfully? If you’d come to me in friendship, your old three-hour potato recipe that ruined your confidence in making mashed potatoes would be suffering this very day. And if by some chance an honest man like yourself had trouble with a recipe, then these would become my troubles as well. These recipes that challenge you would learn to fear you.
Some day, and that day may never come, I will call upon you to do a service for me. But until that day, consider this recipe a gift of my very special skills.”
I really believe that Paul and my relationship went to a new level after this conversation. He now knows why they call me the godfather of the spud. This is a really simple recipe (plus I got to break in my new Le Creuset.)
- 5 big russet potatoes
- lots of Parmesan cheese
- onion, sliced, and fried until sweet and slightly brown
- salt, pepper, olive oil
- 2 cups of low-sodium chicken stock
- Olive oil in the casserole dish. Bottom and sides wiped to prevent sticking.
- Using a mandolin (if you don’t have one, stop this recipe, go get one, and come back), slice up the 5 potatoes after you peel them
- One layer of potatoes
- One layer of onions
- Cheese sprinkled
- Salt & pepper and a drizzle of olive oil
- Repeat steps 1-6 two more times.
- Pour chicken stock on top
- Push down with all your might
- Wrap tightly with tin foil and then stick the lid on top
- Bake at 375 degrees for 1hr 20min
- Remove lid and tin foil
- More cheese and back in the oven until its brown (about 15 minutes)
That’s how we do it Godfather style. Part of you will think about getting naked when you eat this. Don’t fight it. Also don’t stand too close to the open oven door. These potatoes are delicious. Next time I will use bacon fat rather than olive oil and 1 lb of bacon in this seems about right. Watch for future posts. If you are going to ‘swim with the fishes’ and you need to choose a last meal, make this one of the sides.
Note: I can’t stress enough the importance of mise-en-place. Simply put, having all your ingredients ready to use before you start. If you are doing your prep as you cook, you won’t enjoy it as much. Photo proof below.
Potatoes
Mise-en-place
Lovely cheese love
Spuds after the mandolin
Layered with care.
Layered on top of each other
My baby’s first run at cooking. Isn’t she beautiful.
Time for a close up.
All in all, yes, Paul got my recipe. Yes, he learned from the master of the potato. Yes, he will sleep with the fishes if he ever says that this was his recipe.
I had his potato recipe when we were working a contract in the old Think Tank days. It took three hours and it was…memorable. Let’s leave it at that.
So it has come to this. Conspiracy, broken trust, a cunning ruthfulness, and illegally taped conversations. This may or may not be an accurate summary of how it all went down – but that is beside the point.
Having said that, I am forever grateful for this recipe, Godfather, and I look forward to once again cooking potatoes after a 9 year hiatus that followed my unfortunate potato experience up North.
While I am anxious to see what type of “service” I will be asked to perform, I’ll try to enjoy the moment, while preparing the best I can to answer the call whenever it comes.