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The first new potatoes of June, boiled in salted water until waxy and tender, then rolled in melting butter with torn mint. Three ingredients and no reason on earth to do anything more.
The first Jersey Royals arrive at the market sometime in late May, and for a few weeks they are the best thing you can buy. Small, kidney-shaped, their skins still papery and thin. They smell of the earth they came from. I pick them up and they feel like the start of something.
You don't do much with a potato like this. You boil it in good salted water, drain it, and roll it in butter while it's still hot. Tear some mint over the top. That's the recipe. I could dress it up, add capers or shallots or a squeeze of lemon, and sometimes I do, but the honest version is the best one. Butter, mint, salt. The potato does the rest.
This is a June side dish, the kind you put in a warm bowl in the middle of the table next to whatever else you're having. A piece of fish. Some lamb chops off the grill. A plate of green beans. It doesn't compete with anything. It just belongs there, the way certain foods belong to certain months. I wrote it down in the notebook years ago: "Jerseys. Butter. Mint. First proper warm evening." I make the same note every year and it never needs updating.
There are few better feelings than putting a bowl of these in front of someone on a long June evening when the windows are open and nobody is in a hurry. We're only making dinner. But sometimes dinner is enough.
Quantity
750g
scrubbed, not peeled (Jersey Royals if you can get them)
Quantity
generous pinch
for the cooking water
Quantity
about 30g
Quantity
a small handful
torn
Quantity
to finish
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| new potatoesscrubbed, not peeled (Jersey Royals if you can get them) | 750g |
| fine sea saltfor the cooking water | generous pinch |
| unsalted butter | about 30g |
| fresh mint leavestorn | a small handful |
| flaky sea salt | to finish |
Put the potatoes into a pan of cold, well-salted water. The water should taste like the sea, properly seasoned, not timid. Bring it to the boil, then turn it down to a steady simmer. Small potatoes will take twelve to fifteen minutes, larger ones a little more. Test them with the tip of a knife: it should slide in easily but meet the faintest resistance at the centre. Overcooked new potatoes lose their waxy bite and turn floury. You want them just this side of done.
Drain the potatoes well and return them to the warm pan. Let them sit for a minute off the heat with the lid slightly ajar. The residual warmth dries the skins, which matters more than you'd think. Wet potatoes dilute the butter. Dry potatoes absorb it.
Drop the butter into the pan and shake it gently so the potatoes roll through as it melts. You want every potato glossy, coated in a thin, golden slick. Tear the mint leaves and scatter them in. Not chopped, torn. The rough edges release more oil and the scent comes up immediately, green and sharp and sweet. Toss everything together once more. A pinch of flaky salt over the top. Serve straight from the pan.
1 serving (about 195g)
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