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The View from My Kitchen

Benvenuti! I hope you enjoy il panorama dalla mia cucina Italiana -- "the view from my Italian kitchen,"-- where I indulge my passion for Italian food and cooking. From here, I share some thoughts and ideas on food, as well as recipes and restaurant reviews, notes on travel, a few garnishes from a lifetime in the entertainment industry, and an occasional rant on life in general..

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Thursday, November 15, 2018

Holiday (Or Anytime) Mashed Potatoes Done Right


The Best Mashed Potatoes Aren't Really “Mashed”

I have a confession to make: the first batch of mashed potatoes I ever made came from a box. They were “French's Mashed Potato Flakes,” as I recall, and I was about seven years old when I made them.

Things have changed, although I do still keep dried mashed potato flakes around. They come in handy for lots of other things in the kitchen. Potato bread, for instance. But when it comes to actual serve-'em-up-for dinner mashed potatoes, I rely on real, honest-to-goodness potatoes that you have to wash, cut up, cook, and mash. Is it more work? Sure it is. Is the end result better? Definitely.

That said, however, when it comes to the “wash, cut up, cook, and mash” part of the deal, there seem to be as many opinions on how to do it as there are grains of sand on a beach. Everybody's got a “recipe” that they learned at their granny's knee or something, but sometimes you can teach an old dog new tricks. I know I've certainly picked up some tips and tricks for better mashed potatoes over the years – besides not making them out of a box – and I'd like to take this opportunity to pass some of them along.

The first thing I learned about making better mashed potatoes is pretty straightforward: use better potatoes. You know that definition of insanity that says something about doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results? Yeah, that was once me with cheap, “bargain” potatoes from the grocery store. Those “bargain” potatoes you find “on sale” at the store aren't usually much of a bargain after you wind up throwing out about half of every other potato in the bag. There's a reason they're “on sale,” folks and it has nothing to do with your grocer's altruistic desire to improve your life. You get what you pay for, so pay for the better quality spuds.

Now you have to decide how you like your mashed potatoes: do you want them light and fluffy, rich and creamy, or just a little chunky with maybe some skin left on? Most people go for the light and fluffy option that is buttery and smooth. For you rich and creamy lovers, that's okay, too. But achieving that texture without turning your potatoes into a starchy glue can be a bit tricky. And as far as the chunky, skin on method, well, it's probably easiest to prepare, but I'm not so much into chewing my mashed potatoes and picking bits of skin out of my teeth. Sorry. Personal preference. So let's focus on the more popular method, light and fluffy.

First, mix 'em up a bit. Everybody and his or her mother uses stalwart old russet potatoes for their mash, right? Ah, but as Hamlet might have said had he been a decent cook, “There are more potatoes in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” More precisely, there are two types of potato: starchy and waxy. Within those parameters there are then dozens of different varieties, russets being just one variety of starchy potato. Make no mistake, there's a reason the russet – or “Russet Burbank” – is also called a “chef potato.” (Well, in the UK they call them “Maris Pipers” because they didn't have Luther Burbank.) They've always been the ones that are most popular with chefs. Until a few chefs started experimenting. And came up with some nifty – and tasty – results.

Starchy potatoes are always best for mashed potatoes. Waxy spuds – like red bliss or new potatoes – are great for roasting or for using in soups, stews, or potato salad. They are very flavorful, but they are also very dense and firm. That's why they're so good for long cooking preparations; they add great flavor but they hold their shape and texture well. Which is not really what you want in a light, fluffy mash. So stick with starchy potatoes that will fall apart easily. Russet's, of course, but also consider Yukon Gold.

Yukon Golds are a bit less starchy than Russets. Russets are a “high-starch” potato while Yukon Golds are more “medium starch.” The texture difference isn't going to be that discernible in a mashed preparation, but the flavor difference will be. Yukon Golds are quite flavorful. Some people like a straight up all Yukon Gold mash because the very buttery flavor and yellow color appeal to them. I'm not so much in that camp. I like Yukon Golds, but not as an “all in” thing. Russets, on the other hand, are, frankly, rather low in flavor, but their light, fluffy texture is superior. So, the best results for perfect light, fluffy, flavorful mashed potatoes will come from a mix of Russets and Yukon Golds. Half and half maybe? 60/40 perhaps? Make a couple of batches and play around until you get the balance the way you like it.

Next, we have to consider technique. Flavorwise, the mix of Russet and Yukon Gold potatoes will be great for either light and fluffy or rich and creamy, but the final outcome will be determined by the mashing technique. Basically, the best mashed potatoes aren't really “mashed” in the traditional sense.

Here's a quick look at some science behind mashed potatoes. Potatoes – like everything else – are made up of specific kinds of cells. Cells, of course, consist of molecules, which are made up of atoms and all the other stuff you should have paid more attention to in class. The important thing to remember here is that potato cells are made up primarily of starch molecules. These cells are a type of carbohydrate bound up as tight granules surrounded by pectin, a water soluble gelatinous polysaccharide, if you want to be excruciatingly correct. When potatoes start to cook, the pectin starts to break down. The starch molecules within act like little balloons and soak up all the water they can hold before bursting and releasing all that starchy goodness. And it's the concentration of this starch that will ultimately influence the consistency of the finished dish. Got me? Stick around. It gets easier. Bottom line: if you want light, fluffy mashed potatoes, you want there to be as little sticky, gluey starch in your finished dish as possible.

Now, when you beat the holy hell out of a potato, you wring out and release every atom of starch that potato has to hold. The result? Wallpaper paste. I'm serious: you actually can make wallpaper paste from potato starch. Do you want to eat it with a little butter and some salt? Not so much. So keep your little starch bombs as far away from things like food processors as possible. And if you simply must have that oh-so-French creamy texture that the Frenchies call pommes purée, okay. Do as the French do and whack 'em with an electric mixer until they practically pour out onto a plate. But be careful: the difference between pommes purées and wallpaper paste is a very fine line, indeed.

I'm getting ahead of myself a bit. Before we do all the processing, we have to do the cooking. There are two schools of potato cooking when it comes to making mashed potatoes. One school holds that you absolutely must cook your potatoes whole and skin on for optimal texture and flavor. Unpeeled potatoes, they say, absorb less water and hold in the starches better. And there's a good bit of flavor in the skins themselves that is infused into the potato as it cooks. All true.

The other school says peel' em, chunk 'em, and boil 'em. I'm sorry, potato purists, but I'm firmly in that “other school.” I've tried both ways and fail to detect significant difference. And cooking potatoes whole takes longer and peeling and cutting them while hot is a pain in the......hand. No, I'm a big believer in peeling, cutting into quarters or other workable chunks, and boiling. In salted water, by the way. The first step to seasoning your completed dish is adding flavor to the water. Just like pasta, when those little starch cells expand and take on water, they also take on flavor. And it's flavor you simply can't add later. You may not need as much salt as for pasta – i.e. a tablespoon per quart – but do be generous.

Oh, and another “by the way:” unlike pasta, you want to start your potatoes cooking from cold water. Dropping your spuds into already boiling water will usually lead to uneven cooking. You can wait until the water heats up a little to add your salt if you want it to dissolve more rapidly and efficiently and thus avoid damaging your cookware. The salt won't be absorbed into the flesh of the potato until the cooking process starts anyway. But put the cut up potatoes in the cold water first and then crank up the heat.

Like most people, I would rather have light and fluffy mashed potatoes that have a little body to them. Perhaps not so much body that you can use them to sculpt replicas of Devil's Tower (remember “First Encounters of the Third Kind?) but enough that maybe they'll hold up a fork, okay? And the way to achieve that quality is with a ricer or a food mill.

Huh? What about grandma's faithful old potato masher? Give it back to grandma. It's a potato torturing device left over from a less enlightened age in the treatment of tubers. To achieve ultimate lightness and fluffiness, you want to coax the starches out of the potatoes, not crush them out at the end of a blunt-force object. The old masher is just a slower, less effective way to make glue.

I feel your questions: what are food mills and ricers and what have they got to do with potatoes? We'll start with a food mill. It's a kitchen tool that no kitchen should be without, although most are. Basically, it's a mechanical means of hand-processing soft foods like tomatoes for sauces, cooked apples for applesauce and, of course, cooked potatoes. It's a three-piece gadget consisting of a bowl, a variety of different processing blades, and a crank handle. You fit the blade of your choice into the bowl, affix the handle, toss in whatever you're preparing, and crank. Within seconds, you've got soft mounds of, in this case, potatoes that are light and fluffy and ready to mix with the rest of the ingredients we'll get to in a minute.

A ricer works the same way and is even less complicated to use. It looks like a giant garlic press and functions in much the same manner. A ricer is a simple, two-handled unit joined by a hinge. It's got a plunger on one handle and a perforated receptacle or “hopper” on the other. The plunger fits into the hopper and when you squeeze the handles together, the plunger presses the chunks of cooked potato through a series of small holes in a cutting blade. As with the food mill, you first select the size of the blade based on your desired results. Some ricers have separate blades that you have to insert and some have a movable blade you can just dial around to achieve the texture you want. The results look like grains of rice, hence the name for the tool. And those grains are the secret to transforming your lumpy mashed potatoes into a thing of beauty.

The actions of the ricer or the food mill are much gentler on the potatoes than your old masher or a mixer of some sort. The devices provide a uniform size, an even texture, and they preserve more of the integrity of those little balloon-like starch cells. As a result, you don't need as much stirring and mixing of the final product as you do with other methods. The “riced” potatoes are ready to rock and roll with your other ingredients just the way they are.

And what about those other ingredients? All you need for great mashed potatoes are fat, dairy, and seasoning. You can go off on tangents with garlic and herbs and spices and whatever else makes your taste buds tingle, but for superior “plain” mashed potatoes, all you need are those three elements.

Let's start with fat. And that means butter. NOT MARGARINE!!! That horrible plasticized abomination has no place in any decent kitchen. Laws still on the books in Wisconsin even prohibit serving the vile stuff to prison inmates. No. I mean real, honest-to-goodness, direct from a cow and not a chemistry set butter. Preferably but not essentially unsalted. And in quantities more than you would think wise. One chef I know calls for “egregious amounts” of butter in his mashed potato recipes. By “egregious” he means more than a whole stick per pound of potatoes. If you're cooking up five pounds of spuds for your holiday table, you'd be using about a pound-and-a-half or more of butter. And that's probably excessive. But don't be cheap with it. The old saying “there's flavor in fat” is true. Use as much butter as you're comfortable with – and then throw in an extra tablespoon or two. Softened butter works best.

Now dairy. You need milk, cream, or a combination of both to add an extra layer of flavor and to achieve that final texture you're looking for. Ready made half-and-half is a good option. You don't need a lot. I was showing off my mashed potato skills to a client recently and overmilked the damn things, creating a nice warm potato soup. Way to impress. So add your dairy incrementally until you get the texture you're seeking. Oh, and make sure the liquid is warm. Pouring cold dairy into warm potatoes rapidly cools down the whole mix and increases the likelihood of lumps.

Personally, I tend to mix softened butter into my riced potatoes first and then add in my warmed dairy. There are a couple of reasons, one scientific and one not so much. Scientifically speaking, mixing in the fat with the starch will help coat the starch cells and keep them from absorbing as much of the water part of the dairy component, which is what makes the potatoes gluey. From a practical standpoint, if you do as a lot of folks do and melt your butter in with your milk or whatever and then pour it all in at once, you're losing out on the benefit of some of that butter if you don't wind up using all the liquid. You know, like if you find yourself on the edge of potato soup. But......whatever works for you.

And then you finalize your seasoning. If you adequately salted the cooking water, here's where it will pay off because you won't need as much salt in the final preparation. And if you used salted instead of unsalted butter, this is even more so. The only way to tell is to taste. Culinary school 101: taste, taste, taste! Once you've tasted, adjust your salt accordingly. Add freshly ground black pepper if desired, although white pepper is an option if you don't want little black specks in your fluffy white mash. That's it for me. Some people go on and on with chives and herbs and parsley and such, but for me salt and pepper completes the dish. That and a little garnish of butter to gild the lily.

As I said earlier, if you want to cream your potatoes into a pommes purée, that's your decision. One tip I will pass along to you French chef wannabes is to cook your potatoes in the dairy mix. It'll infuse extra flavor and almost guarantee maximum creaminess. And if you absolutely have to, have to, have to have that almost liquid consistency, DON'T use a food processor or a blender. Instant wallpaper paste. Get that texture in a stand mixer fitted with a paddle attachment or use a hand mixer. If you've got one of the nice ones that you can fit with just one whisk or beater, so much the better. Work at low speed and don't overwhip.

Oh, and by the way........one more confession/guilty secret: there is a down and dirty solution to the “potato soup” problem. Thicken 'em up with dried mashed potato flakes. See. I told you they had lots of uses.

Buon appetito!

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