I bought a bag of Yukon Gold’s at the grocery store the other day fully intending to create the classic french potato dish known as “pommes anna” or “Anna Potatoes.” The attraction, I believe is obvious. And, naturally, my kitchen idol Alice Waters has instructions on page 103 of the softcover Chez Panisse Menu Cookbook, and thus I was going to launch into the brave new world of foods named for me (nope, not a narcissist, why do you ask?).
But bowing under the heavy weight of many pictures to edit and CD’s to burn, I decided that I’d cut the potatoes into pieces and roast them in the oven drizzled in olive oil, with salt and freshly ground black pepper and rosemary needles sprinkled liberally over the top. The rosemary is from my very own bush, which, after sort of languishing all summer apparently decided that it likes it colder. Who knew?
I’m still calling them potatoes Anna though. My rationale? I’m Anna, and I made a potato dish, so potatoes Anna is whatever the h-e-double toothpicks I decide it is. (not actual swearing by the way unless you spell it out in your head and then say what you spelled… I was just talking about toothpicks, whatever you see is your problem).
I’m serving them with wild caught salmon, courtesy of Whole Foods.
Jody’s pairing the potatoes with a New York Strip Steak that he grilled in our Le Cruset Grill pan.
and we added a salad of mixed greens with a Roquefort Vinaigrette (only I subbed blue cheese) and plated it looks like this:
And I accompanied all of it with a lovely Yellow Tail Reisling.