Potato Nik
After living in what must have seemed like every neighborhood in three boroughs, my mother's parents, in their oldish age, settled in Astoria, which is where I spent almost all the Thanksgivings of my childhood. Thanksgiving was always in my memory gray and blustery, and my grandmother's kitchen, steamy. She produced, almost solo, the traditionally ridiculous abundance of food, including my favorite, the potato nik, a huge latke fried in chicken fat until really brown, and as crisp as perfectly done shoestring fries. I still make this, and so can you.
After living in what must have seemed like every neighborhood in three boroughs, my mother's parents, in their oldish age, settled in Astoria, which is where I spent almost all the Thanksgivings of my childhood. Thanksgiving was always in my memory gray and blustery, and my grandmother's kitchen, steamy. She produced, almost solo, the traditionally ridiculous abundance of food, including my favorite, the potato nik, a huge latke fried in chicken fat until really brown, and as crisp as perfectly done shoestring fries. I still make this, and so can you.
- Carbohydrate 11.745774 g
- Cholesterol 9.8 mg
- Fat 2.15611 g
- Fiber 0.00187000005245209 g
- Protein 8.11071 g
- Saturated Fat 1.3426462 g
- Serving Size 1 1 recipe (246g)
- Sodium 412.2864 mg
- Sugar 11.7439039999475 g
- Trans Fat 0.1102808 g
- Calories 98 calories
Step-by-step
- Grate potatoes and onion by hand or with grating disk of a food processor; drain in colander or strainer.
- Combine potatoes and onions in a large bowl with eggs, salt, pepper and bread crumbs or matzo meal.
- Put about 1/8 inch oil in a large, deep skillet, either nonstick or seasoned cast iron; turn heat to medium-high.
- When oil is hot (it will shimmer) put all the batter in pan, and smooth the top.
- Cook, shaking pan occasionally; adjust heat so mixture sizzles but does not burn.
- Continue until bottom is nicely browned, at least 15 minutes.
- To turn, slide cake out onto a large plate, cover with another large plate and invert.
- Add a little more oil to pan if necessary, and slide pancake back in, cooked side up.
- Cook 15 minutes or so longer, until nicely browned.
- Serve hot or warm.
My Grandmother's Potato Nik: A Thanksgiving Tradition
The aroma of frying potatoes, a symphony of sizzling and savory scents, always filled my grandmother's kitchen on Thanksgiving. It wasn't just the smell; it was the feeling, the warmth, the sense of family gathering around a table laden with her incredible cooking. Among all the traditional dishes, one stood out: her potato nik. It wasn't just a latke; it was a culinary masterpiece, a crispy, golden-brown behemoth of potato perfection, fried to a crisp in chicken fat.
My grandmother, a woman of seemingly endless energy and culinary prowess, managed to create a Thanksgiving feast that would feed an army. She did it almost single-handedly, a feat of culinary magic that continues to amaze me. The potato nik, her signature dish, held a place of honor on the table. It was always the first to disappear, its irresistible crunch and savory flavor a welcome contrast to the other, more traditional Thanksgiving fare.
The secret to her potato nik, I later discovered, wasn't some exotic ingredient or complex technique, but rather a simple dedication to quality ingredients and precise cooking. The potatoes, always russets, were grated by hand, a labor of love that imbued the latke with a unique texture. The onions, finely diced, added a subtle sweetness that balanced the earthiness of the potatoes. And the frying, oh, the frying! The chicken fat – something I now use a neutral oil instead of – was the key to that unparalleled crispness.
As the years passed, and Thanksgiving celebrations shifted from my grandmother's steamy kitchen to my own, I carried on her tradition. Making the potato nik became a ritual, a way to connect with my past and honor my grandmother's memory. Each time I grate the potatoes, each time I feel the sizzle of the oil in the pan, each time I taste that familiar, perfect crunch, I am transported back to those blustery Thanksgiving days, surrounded by family and the warmth of my grandmother's kitchen.
The potato nik is more than just a recipe; it's a story, a memory, a piece of my family history. It's a dish that embodies the spirit of Thanksgiving – abundance, warmth, and the love that binds us together. And while the recipe itself is relatively simple, the memories and emotions it evokes are anything but.
Beyond the simple pleasure of eating a delicious potato nik, it is a reminder of the importance of family traditions and the love that goes into creating cherished memories. It's about appreciating the simple things in life, the comfort of a familiar taste, and the connection to those who have come before us. The act of making the potato nik is almost as satisfying as eating it, a tangible link to my heritage and a way to share a piece of my family history with those I love.
This Thanksgiving, I encourage you to try your hand at making my grandmother's potato nik. It's a recipe that transcends generations, a culinary legacy that continues to bring joy and warmth to our family gatherings. While the process might seem simple, the resulting dish is anything but. It's a testament to the power of simple ingredients, careful preparation, and the love poured into creating something truly special.
The crispiness, the subtle sweetness of the onions, the hearty satisfaction of a perfectly fried potato – these are just some of the rewards of this recipe. But more importantly, it is a recipe filled with love, a tradition that keeps the spirit of Thanksgiving alive. So this Thanksgiving, gather your family, create some memories, and make a batch of my grandmother's potato nik. You won't be disappointed.
