After a most discouraging and fretful day, and knowing I don’t have the energy to go out to our beloved sing-along Messiah tonight at the acoustically fine and aesthetically pleasing Stanford church, I have come across the following recipe in my tattered Joy of Cooking—while trying to figure out how to simply bake a potato to go with unexciting leftover chicken. It warms the cochrells [sic] of my heart just imagining, fond as I am of fragrant pine and pungent retsina as well as potatoes in general. I love the whole idea, and may have to experiment soon. Well, sometime. Well, okay, probably one of those forlorn dreams that will remain just that, like learning to play all of the Beethoven sonatas. But you never know. Sometimes I am inspired to great things.
Potatoes Cooked in Resin
Coming upon this sensational setup after an hour or two of skiing or skating is calculated to send the spirits of an outdoor group soaring all over again. The kettle is cosily appealing; the scent of resin recalls the pine woods; and no method turns out a potato with so much distinctive flakiness.
Place in a large iron kettle:
10 to 25 lb. resin
This sounds extravagant, but the resin may be used repeatedly. Heat resin to the boiling point. Carefully lower into it on a large slotted wooden-handled spoon, one at a time:
Large baking potatoes: 1 per person
Allow them to remain in the simmering resin until they float to the top. Remove potatoes and place at once diagonally on foot-square sheets of heavy brown paper. Twist the ends of the paper and serve the potatoes in the wrapping. Have on hand plenty of:
and in large grinders:
Cold ale makes the best of chasers.
Sounds like heaven!
image: Basket of potatoes, Dezidor