A Tale of Two Dinners

*Originally published on June 14, 2023

For the past two nights I've made dinner for my family and I. Both meals were enjoyed on our back deck with an accompaniment of birdsong and sunshine, yet there were key differences between each eating experience that left me thinking either "oh" or "oh". After some reflection I've come to realize that the difference between the two meals lies in the intention behind the cooking. That is, the best food is more often than not a product of necessity rather than careful planning.

It's Monday night and I've been waiting all day to recreate one of my favorite restaurant dishes: crispy potatoes with saffron aioli. The dish is characterized by the aioli, which thanks to the saffron, takes on this cheez-whizzy color and texture while carrying a gorgeous saffron flavor that isn't too overpowering. The dish is three simple parts: the aioli, some crispy fingerling potatoes, and freshly grated parmesan. Pretty easy, right? 

It started with the potatoes. While I am fortunate enough to live in an area that has an excellent produce selection, I was unable to find fingerling potatoes at my local grocery stores. Instead, I ended up choosing some mini russet potatoes that had a similar bite-sized quality and returned home. I washed the potatoes, dressed them in salt and olive oil, and put them in an oven at 400F for 35 minutes while I worked on the aioli. I made that aioli three times. Once, the day before, but it split and I decided to try again the next day. The second time, the egg-oil emulsion was not cooperating and I was left with a neon yellow liquid that could very well be mistaken for something radioactive. The third time, I had my thick, floral, and comically cheez-whiz-esque aioli. I plated it, added the potatoes on top, and finished it off with some freshly grated parmesan, just like how they do it at the restaurant. I sat down with my dad at the table to chow down to the famed potatoes along with some salmon I had chucked in the oven and a jicama salad that he had made. I took a bite of those potatoes and immediately thought "oh, they're fine." Of course there was something missing, or rather, multiple somethings missing, but I had put so much effort into making sure everything came out perfectly that I made a point to finish them all. Not a bad experience, but the stress of making the perfect saffron aioli definitely made it difficult to accept my "just okay" potato concoction with a smile on my face.

Fast forward to the next night. It's 7:00 pm and my dad knocks on my door. I'm paraphrasing here, but he asks, "Soph, your mission, should you choose to accept it: to come up with a shrimp dish for dinner and make it tonight," which is code for, "your mom and I don't want to cook, and you're the only other person in this house, can you please make something?" Because I am a wonderful, incredible, talented daughter who loves her parents very much (and because I was hungry too, and knew that I could make a meal the quickest) I accepted my dad's challenge and immediately pulled out the shrimp from the fridge. I shelled the shrimp while my cat watched. Then I turned on the stove, melted some butter, added some minced garlic, and added in the shrimp. While the shrimp was going, I popped some leftover rice in the microwave and my mom washed some arugula. I flipped the shrimp, added some orange and artichoke to the arugula, and chopped some parsley for the finished shrimp. Ten minutes later, it was done and I quickly tossed it in the parsley. Soon after, my family was tucked in for dinner and oh boy did it not disappoint. I took one bite of that shrimp and rice followed by a bite of salad. I closed my eyes and I slumped into my chair while I continued to chew. Success. 

Were my potatoes bad? Absolutely not. They were exactly as I described them: fine. However, I was too caught up in perfection to realize I don't actually know what the restaurant puts in it. I was just estimating and hoping for the best, so it's okay if it doesn't taste exactly like how they make it. On the other hand, my shrimp dinner was born out of sheer hangriness and speed. I entered that wild space where nothing mattered except getting food into my belly. In that space, I find, some of the best food emerges. It's not the stuff on the menu that's the best, but the family meal the chef makes for the staff before service. The best food is the meal I make for my family when they don't want to cook because some days, they deserve a break. 

Note: I haven't actually mentioned this yet but I'm from Atlanta. The restaurant where this dish is from is called The Optimist and it's located on the West Side. Please go and order one of everything on the menu. It's all insanely delicious.