SpiceLines

For the last five weeks, Bintje and other uncommonly tasty potatoes have been tumbling into the farmer’s markets, filling baskets and wooden crates with jewel-like hues of pink, yellow, and purple. Some are heirlooms, others are newer, high-yielding, disease-resistant varieties, mostly developed at state universities. But they all have one thing in common:

They are utterly delicious—as different from bland Idaho “lunkers” as day from night.

Harvested when young, these small but wondrous tubers have delicate skins that need never be peeled. Their flesh—white, yellow, even rosy pink or dark violet—is incomparably rich, complex, earthy. Often there are intriguing nuances of flavor. A given potato might also taste sweet, nutty, creamy or buttery; it might even have hints of a brothy, umami-like flavor. Far from being starch bombs, some are surprisingly high in protein and antioxidants.

So now that the hurricane has left a little cool air in its wake, it’s time for a potato palooza. This is a delectable way to pass a holiday Monday, sitting on the back porch, especially if you’ve been hoarding pounds of freshly dug potatoes in brown paper bags in your dark, well-chilled pantry. (Finally, a reason for the air-conditioning vent in the floor!)

And Labor Day is perhaps a fitting day to celebrate the potato. In a 1664 pamphlet titled England’s Happiness Increased, John Forster recommended the “plantation of roots called potatoes” so that “ten thousand men…who do not know how to live or what to do to get a maintenance for their families, may of one acre of ground make thirty pounds per annum.” At the time, the lowly solanum tuberosum was a poor man’s feast—but today, the potato—Wickipedia says the “average global citizen” eats 33 kilos per year—makes kings of us all.

Or it could, if only all potatoes were as delicious as the uncommon varieties we wolfed down this afternoon.

Boiling is the best way to bring out the natural flavor of these little gems. In a large pot cover the tubers with cold water and bring to a boil over medium high heat. Reduce the heat slightly and gently boil until they are tender and can easily be pierced with a fork, but are still firm enough to hold their shape. Drain and set aside until they won’t burn your fingers when you pick them up.

Nibble them unpeeled and unadorned, then gild them with some of your most special oils and spices and taste again.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

First, Pick Your Potatoes

By now you may be asking, "Which potatoes?" My advice: Whatever is new, small and freshly dug in your farmer’s market.

When I emptied out the nest of paper bags, there were little piles of 10 different varieties. To cut down on the work, but keep track of what we were tasting, I boiled 2 or 3 distinctly different types in a single pot, then separated them when they were done.

But don’t get in a twist about it: it’s fine to heap them in a big bowl and have at it. Five varieties are about the most you can reasonably sample at one time. Drink a little water between bites to clear your palate.

So which tubers did we sample? Here are my quick tasting/research notes:

Tasting, round #1: Kennebec, Bintje, Rose Gold, Red Norland and Purple Majesty.

Kennebec: Pale brown, fragile skin, white flesh. A delicious potato and a personal favorite. Soft creamy texture; deep, earthy, intensely “potato-y” flavor with a pronounced sweetness. Introduced in 1948; one of Maine’s top 10 tubers. Last summer I bought a sack of Kennebecs from a Camden farmer who said laconically, “That’s dinnuh.” I concur. The only potato I know that has its own website.

Bintje: A 1910 Dutch heirloom. Buff-colored, thin-skinned, pale yellow flesh. At the excellent Vegetables of Interest site, Craig Allen Lindquist notes that the Dutch have more than 150 varieties of potatoes “with some presence in their produce markets.” (Don’t get too excited. There are 3,000 in Peru.)

Bintje, a cross between Munstersen and Fransen, is said to be the most widely grown yellow potato in the world. Not quite as delicious as the Kennebec, but with more true potato flavor than the ubiquitous Yukon Gold. Some detect a “nutty” flavor, though neither Lindquist nor I did. Not a great potato, but a very good one.

Rose Gold: Pretty, pink-skinned, rounded potato with golden flesh. Dry-ish texture, though a nice earthy flavor. An eye-catching addition to a mixed potato salad. Also said to be good for “baking, steaming and in creamy soups.”

Red Norland: Thin red skin, moist white flesh, fine potato flavor with a touch of sweetness. Introduced in 1957 by North Dakota State University; according to Johnny’s Seeds, “the standard of early red potatoes for many years.” I like this one boiled; also good baked or roasted. A versatile tuber that I first met in Maine and have loved ever since.

Purple Majesty: Wild bluish-purple skin, dark purple flesh. According to New York Magazine, this potato was developed by Colorado growers in 2006 using “natural cross-breeding techniques that somehow resulted in a superspud containing freakishly high amounts of antioxidants.”

The antioxidants are found in the potato’s anthocyanins, or pigments that are distributed throughout the skin and flesh. A roughly 5-ounce serving of this purple wonder is said to contain 235 mg of these compounds.

Chefs flipped when Purple Majesty came to market, both because of its wild and crazy color and intense flavor. You can see Michael Anthony’s (Gramercy Tavern) recipe for Fork Crushed Potatoes at NY Mag's website. I like its jolt of electric color in mixed potato salad, and in Smashed Potatoes with Indian Spices, both recipes coming soon.

Tasting round #2: Carola, Cranberry Red, Purple Viking, Butte and Red Pontiac.

Carola: Light brown skin, butter-yellow flesh, oval shape. Creamy texture, mild flavor. Native to Germany. Most popular of the 500 potatoes at Seed Saver’s Exchange. Said to be low in starch, “great for soups, boiling, or fried.”

Cranberry Red: Round tubers, bright red skin, pink flesh. Earthy, slightly buttery flavor, smooth texture. According to Seeds of Change, bred from a variety named Bison, first made available in 1984. A very pretty addition to mixed potato salad. Also known as “All Red.”

Purple Viking: Streaky reddish purple skin, bright white flesh, fluffy texture, intensely earthy flavor with a touch of sweetness. An absolutely delicious potato, one of my all-time favorites. A 1953 North Dakota introduction. Go to Seasonal Ontario Food to see a truly psychedelic batch of Purple Vikings. If I grew potatoes, this would be at the top of my list.

Butte: Coarse russet brown skin, oblong shape, looks like a miniature Idaho potato. Soft white flesh, good though not excellent flavor, but better by far than the standard Idaho. Also healthier: According to Better Homes & Gardens, the Butte has 20 percent more protein and 58 percent more vitamin C than most other varieties. In a 2005 New York Times article, “Maine Is Busy Praising the Potatoes,” a farmer tells Julia Moskin that the Butte is “light and silky,” but I would describe its texture as creamy.

Red Pontiac: According to Wikipedia, a 1945 “mutant of the original Pontiac variety in Florida.” Also known as the Dakota Chief. A pink-skinned potato, white flesh, good earthy flavor. At Vegetables of Interest, Lindquist praises the Red Pontiac, saying that “its thin skin has a beautiful crunch when braised. And the waxy flesh makes a great mash.”

Now Drizzle with Oil, Sprinkle with Spices

Potatoes are delicious on their own, but as everyone knows, they are amazing when dressed up with other flavors—think butter and salt—that enhance and/or contrast with their own natural goodness.

You’ve had them plain and unadorned, so now gild the lily—that is, the tuber.

Dressing up the potatoes: French olive and more exotic oils, your best black peppercorns, coarsely ground, plus flaky sea salts, some flavored with cumin and chili.

For us, that meant a second round of potatoes drizzled with a few stellar oils. At the top of the list was Moulin de Callas Huile d'Olive Extra Vierge, a gift of Provencal olive oil from our friends Gil and Ced. Lucky are those whose summer house is right down the road from an excellent mill: This lovely oil is light and fruity with the slightest peppery tingle, the kind of oil that makes everyday eating a sensuous experience. A drizzle turned plain, boiled tubers into a luxurious repast—importantly, the oil was mild enough not to overwhelm the delicate flavors of the main event.

My recent flurry of pantry-cleaning disgorged a pristine bottle of argan oil from the Jardin Bio-Aromatique d'Ourika in Morocco. Apparently I was saving it in the “spice museum” for a special occasion. It would have been criminal had it gone rancid, because this hard-to-find oil is pressed from nuts harvested from trees that grow almost exclusively in a stretch of land between the High Atlas and Anti-Atlas Mountains. A wonderfully rich, nutty oil with a light, toasted flavor (though it's not) that takes potatoes in a decidedly autumnal direction.

And last, but certainly not least, there was truffle oil. In The Flavor Thesaurus, Niki Segnit describes potatoes and truffles as “friends of the earth.” She goes on to write: “Encountering potatoes for the first time in Columbia, sixteenth-century Spanish explorers attributed truffle-like qualities to them, even naming them ‘earth truffles.’ Infuse a standard potato dish with them and their harmoniousness is clear…”

I know what you’re thinking: Truffle oil is a sham, a horrid mystery oil that has never seen, much less absorbed even a whiff of truffle, ergo a complete waste of money.

And I would have agreed with you until a bottle of Arotz Aceite Aroma Trufa Negra landed on B’s desk. Arotz, based in Navaleno, Spain, owns the world’s largest truffle plantation. Say what? Yes, contrary to myth, a goodly proportion of truffles are now farmed, though dogs are still used to sniff them out—and 15 to 20 percent of the world’s supply comes from 150,000 truffle-producing trees on this 1,500-acre plantation located not in France, but in the Spanish Pyrenees.

Besides tons of tubers, Arotz also produces an incomparable black truffle essence-infused olive oil. Musky and pungent—a thin slice of truffle floats in the bottom of the bottle—it is a stunning complement to young, earthy potatoes. Yes, a marriage made in heaven. At $60 a bottle, it is surely liquid gold, but gold that will reward you amply every time you use it. Franklin and Betty Garland, local truffle-growers who introduced us to the oil, use it to finish risotto and grits as well as about everything else they seem to eat. For more, see their website (and order the oil) right here.

And don’t forget your best black peppercorns, coarsely ground—at the moment, small fiery peppercorns from Sumatra are our peppercorn of choice—and flaky sea salt, either a fleur de sel or Maldon, the sunny-tasting English sea salt with crunchy pyramid-shaped crystals. Either contrasts beautifully with the natural sweetness of new, young potatoes.

But don’t stop there. Let your imagination go wild.

A 50-50 mix of Maldon sea salt and cumin seed, toasted and ground, hits all the right earthy notes and revs up the potatoes' sweetness besides. Not zingy enough for you? Then whip up a homemade version of Niloufer's Easy Instant Effect, the blend of sea salt, bitter but earthy turmeric and Kashmiri chili powder sold at Boulette’s Larder in San Francisco. Is that the fire alarm ringing?

Other possibilities include sea salt mixed with fruity piment d’esplette, the Basque chili pepper, or sea salt combined with ground vanilla beans, a strangely appealing sweet and savory blend.

A tiny pinch or drizzle of any of these flavorings will turn the humblest bowl of spuds into a rich feast. Happiness increased, indeed.

Happy Labor Day!