My boyfriend is studying for finals right now and this morning was craving the good ole American breakfast to fuel him through the day. “Awesome”, I thought. “I’ll make him my mom’s hashbrowns!” Seems like years since I’ve had hashbrowns. The day kinda calls for it too. It’s winter, it’s cold, it’s grey, and the mood is somber ’round here til the last exam is passed. We need comfort. Memories flooded my mind as I shredded up the spuds. Hashbrowns were a big deal in our household. They would be the reward after a Sunday morning of chores. Dad, tending to the horses or the garden, my sister & I cleaning up our rooms and mom making magic in the kitchen. The smell of sauteed onions tantalized our tastebuds as we dusted & vacuumed. It was a process, this I remember. The best hashbrowns took time. Mom used a cast iron skillet and it made those hashbrowns crisp up just right on the outside and cooked just perfect the rest of the way through. Excited to create new hashbrown memories with my fella, I sizzled up the onions and tossed in the delicately seasoned shredded spuds. Soon the questions flooded, “Do I leave the lid on? Or off? Is the heat low or high? What if I don’t use a cast iron skillet? Will they turn out the same?”
Needless to say, my hashbrowns were NOT my mother’s, nor do they even come close to comparing. I was very disappointed in their appearance and I could hear Chef Ramsey shouting in my head, “ARE YOU GOING TO SERVE THESE POTATOES??? THEY’RE DEAD! THE HASHBROWNS ARE DEAD!” (yes, I have an obsession with Hell’s Kitchen) We ate them anyway and they did taste quite delish.
I need hashbrown coaching. Anyone have the secret?
I AM going to take lessons from my mother this holiday season.