The ingredients:
6 Russet potatoes, diced into 1/4 inch cubesÂ
8 tbsp. butter
1/2 large onion, diced
6 tbsp. flour
Black pepper, garlic, cajun (1 tbsp. each)
2 c. chicken brothÂ
3 c. whole milkÂ
1/2 c. shredded cheddar cheese
Bacon (5-6 slices)
The process:
Boil potatoes until just barely pénétrable with fork. Drain and set aside. Melt butter and add onion. Once translucent, add flour, then seasonings. Once it creates a glue-like consistency, add a half cup of chicken stock at a time, allowing for time to thicken. Add milk and cheese. Add potatoes back in.
Fry bacon until crispy, then crumble and add in. Top with sliced scallions, extra bacon, and cheese.
The story:
I have three recipes for potato soup in this red notebook of mine. One is my dad’s (double the butter and garlic), one is my mom’s (double the cheese and milk), and the other is this one, which is admittedly not SUPER healthy, but it allows for someone to survive and oversee funeral plans when the first two recipes kill everyone who has eaten it for winters on end. I love potato soup because it’s humble and hearty and my third favorite way to eat potatoes (followed by potato wedges and mashed, respectively).Â
I love how recipes evolve, even within families. In a way, I think it reveals something about your personality. Dad is all about the pizzazz and (we’ll figure out by this next statement if he reads this or not), I think he puts the bonus butter and garlic in for the shock value. He’s bold and brazen, whereas mom is a well-rounded cook whose extravagance is all in the base flavors. Her recipe is all about the robust presence of dairy and creaminess. I riffed on their recipe by introducing the chicken stock and the flour element. It’s all preference, right? Â
With this recipe (and theirs, for the record), I think the key is all about the seasonings you choose. Three tablespoons of spice may seem like a lot, but this makes about six to eight good-sized bowls of soup. It’s carrying a lot of the work here, and I actually recommend those measurements as a starting point, not an end one. If you’re elegant, a pinch or two of nutmeg is a nice addition. Mind you, I didn’t put that in the recipe, so… maybe I’m just trying to seem elegant. You know that one ingredient you pretend to like just for the optics? Sorry, nutmeg.
Also, tip of the chef’s hat to my beautiful son who demanded to be my sous chef today. You’re my sunshine, buddy.Â