Mashed Potatoes for 20 (and other stuff)
A very long and irritable recipe. Also an excellent nonalcoholic cocktail.
Okay, one tiny meta-comment before I get to it here, and that’s that Substack is very overexciting to me right now, but I’m so grateful you’re here, and I’m sorry in advance that I have a weird kind of attention deficit that makes me be like: DON’T USE FRESH SAGE IN THE STUFFING! and also DO USE VAGINAL ESTROGEN! I will get sorted, I swear. Also, to the people who are actually *paying* for this content? I am truly speechless. Thank you so much.
Okay, okay: the potatoes! We host Thanksgiving every year for groups ranging in size from 12 to 25. As a result, I have very few photographs because I am always whisking the gravy—like, for the whole entire day—and I never have my phone. I make an exception, and that’s to photograph my poor, beleaguered parents who are forced to complainingly peel potatoes in their cashmere sweaters every year even though they’re 4 thousand years old.
THIS IS A PRETEND PAYWALL IN CASE YOU WANTED TO PAY
Okay, so not tons of photos, but I have some recipes if you need them!
Basic Brined Roasted Turkey although now I usually dry-brine, as per this recipe.
Vegetarian Brown Gravy (I skip the nutritional yeast now because it’s a little much, tbh)
Classic Pecan Pie (but with this gluten-free pastry)
If you need stuffing, well, can you decipher it from this? I hope so.
Okay, okay. Enough. Here’s the perfect mashed potato recipe: rich, tangy, simultaneously fluffy AND dense, delectable perfection. My absolute favorite part of the meal tied with gravy and stuffing.
Mashed Potatoes for 20
If you don’t have to make this much mashed potatoes, don’t! Halve the recipe. Unless you want leftovers, which are a holy gift on the day after. But here’s my advice: Don’t leave the mashing of the potatoes to the last minute. I start them earlier in the day than seems necessary because of how long it takes to peel and boil them—and also they’re fine to sit on the counter, covered, for a few hours. More advice: get another peeler (this is my favorite because I’m basic). Very abbreviated instructions are below the very long ones. There is no middle ground.
10 pounds Yukon Gold or other yellow potatoes
Kosher salt
3 sticks of butter (3/4 pound), ideally at room temperature (I use salted)
1 quart full-fat sour cream (I love Daisy)
½ to 1 cup or so of whole milk or half and half (you may or may not need this)
Start by peeling the potatoes, which is a Herculean task best accomplished by old or young people who are otherwise going to hover around opinionatedly while you’re JUST TRYING TO MAKE THE FUCKING STUFFING. (Yes that’s the same amount of sage you put in every year. Yes, it looks like a lot, but it’s actually a lot of bread. No, you don’t remember it seeming kind of sagey last year.) The best way to set up the potato peelers is this: lay down several thickness of newspaper or paper bags on the floor in front of your couch and let everyone who’s involved peel the potatoes right onto the floor. Put a very large pot half-filled with cold water in front of them so they can put the potatoes in as they’re peeled, and when they complain about the potatoes having lots of weird spots and eyes and whatnot, remind them to use the poky thing on the peeler to dig them out.
Are they all peeled finally? Validate everybody’s feelings that the potatoes were really a pain this year—unusually blemished and also the peelers were dull—then drain the potatoes (the first potful of water is kind of a rinsing situation), quarter them, put them back in the pot, and refill the pot with water. You want as much water as you can fit in there, but you also want to remember that the potatoes will have a tendency to boil over and extinguish the flame, and you really cannot deal with ONE MORE SINGLE FUCKING THING so try to avoid this. Add a very large handful of kosher salt and then another one. Put the pot on the stove, cover it, and turn the heat to high.
When the potatoes start boiling, uncover the pot and taste the water. It should be salty. Add more salt if it’s not. I’m kind of strict about this, because here’s a secret: if the water is salty enough, the potatoes will be tasty and good no matter what you do or don’t do later! Turn the heat down to keep the potatoes at a gentle boil. (It’s a lot of water; the heat might need to be kept fairly high.) If the potatoes boil over, turn the heat down a bit and scoop water out of the pot with a mug until it all seems okay. You got this!
After around 10 minutes, your father will come and stand nearby with his hands behind his back—the involved posture that, in the Venn diagram, represents some of the overlap between old Jewish dads and old Asian dads. Do not allow this behavior to compel you to rush the potatoes! Despite his conviction that they’re done already, they will likely take 20 to 30 minutes (more or less) and the only way to know for sure they’re done is to pull one all the way out of the water, cut a little piece off, and taste it. If there is anything other than softness, keep cooking them. I mean anything at all—the barest hint of firmness at the center, for example—keep cooking them. You really don’t want them to be gritty, which they will be if they’re not cooked through. That said, it’s possible to overcook them, and then they’ll be disintegrating and runny, so there’s a sweet spot you’re looking for. Another good test is to mash one with the back of a fork, which should happen with no resistance. The thing some people say—about sticking a knife in and it slides out a particular way? That confuses me.
Drain the potatoes in a colander in the sink, being careful not to give yourself a steam burn on the face and neck. But yes, your glasses will fog up so you will be doing this treacherous thing without being able to see. If you don’t have a large enough colander, you can drain half of them and put them in a large bowl, then drain the rest of them. Drain them really well—like, shake them around—and then mash them. I use a food mill, and I love the fluffy texture it creates. I also like a ricer. But if what you have is a masher, then use it! (Just don’t put them in a food processor because the potatoes really will get kind of gummy in there.) To be even more micro: Ben mills the potatoes into a smaller pot for me, then dumps that pot back into the big pot as he goes. Every time he dumps some in the big pot, I add some chunks of butter (you’re going to use 2 sticks altogether) and a big bloop of sour cream and stir it with a wooden spoon.
Once all the potatoes are mashed, you should have added 2 whole sticks of butter and all the sour cream. Taste the potatoes for salt and texture. Add more salt if they need it—though if you already have a sense that you’ve oversalted the gravy (it’s me, hi, I’m the problem, it’s me) then err on the side of less salt now. If you wish they were creamier, add some milk or half and half. Now use part of the last stick of butter to grease a large oven-proof dish, ideally one with a lid, like a Dutch oven (but a lasagna-type dish is fine). Put all the potatoes into it, dot the top with the remaining butter cut into pieces, and cover the dish with either the lid or foil. At this point I leave it out on the counter (don’t refrigerate) for a couple of hours (up to 4), until the turkey comes out of the oven. Now put the potatoes in the oven and bake at whatever temperature the oven needs to be at for whatever else is going on (mostly reheating things at this point—so 350ish) for around ½ hour to 45 minutes. Then take the lid or foil off and turn the heat up to allow the top to bubble and brown. If your dish is broiler proof, you might even broil it for a minute or two to get a nice crust.
Abbreviated Instructions
Peel and quarter the potatoes. Boil in salted water until tender. Drain and mash, adding all the sour cream and 2 sticks of butter. Put in a large, oven-proof dish and dot with the remaining stick of butter. Cover with a lid or foil. Reheat in the oven.
Vegan Variation
If you have vegan folks at your table, just leave out whatever amount of plain mashed potatoes you need for the vegans, before adding the butter and sour cream. Stir in room-temperature Earth Balance (or another margarine-type product) and some cashew cream that you’ve made by whizzing together raw cashews, hot water, and a touch of lemon juice in a high-speed blender.
And finally: My own perfect, dead-easy mocktail for the nondrinkers and kids at your table, and for yourself while you’re trying to stay sober enough to WHISK THE MOFO GRAVY.
The Rose Family
All three of these ingredients are in the rose family! A little botanical cleverness to brighten up your holiday, ha ha ha.
Fill a glass with ice, then add clear apple juice and a splash (around 1/2 teaspoon) of rose water. Garnish with a frozen strawberry.
p.s. These glasses have straight sides, even though that’s not how they look in these pictures. They are very thin, strong glass and I love them so much.
Enjoy your weekend! And your holiday if I don’t see you before then! Thank you for being here.
I read this whole post to find out about vaginal estrogen only to find out I have definitely not been using enough butter in my mashed potatoes! So do tell, does vaginal estrogen help at all with brain fog or night sweats? Why should we take that? Inquiring crones want to know!
I'M OBSESSED WITH CATHERINE NEWMAN BEING ON SUBSTACK YESSSSSSSS