Crispy Outside, Creamy Inside Garlic Herb Potatoes

Clay knows. The coach told him Monday. Clay came home and set his backpack down and said "EKU offered me a full ride." Same delivery as everything else: flat, factual, like he's reading scores. But his eyes. His eyes were doing something his voice wasn't — they were bright, wider than normal, and he looked at me and I looked at him and for one second the Hensley vault cracked open and I saw my son feeling the full weight of what he'd earned. Then the vault closed. "That's cool," he said, and went upstairs.

"That's cool." A full scholarship to a Division I university, the first in family history, earned through four years of hitting people harder than they hit you, and the response is "That's cool." I said to Connie "He gets this from you." She said "He gets this from every Hensley who ever lived." She's not wrong.

But here's the thing: Clay didn't say yes. He didn't sign anything. He said "I want to think about it." Think about it. The boy has a full ride on the table and he wants to think about it. Because the Army is also on the table. The two options sit side by side in Clay's mind — football and the military — and I can't tell which one weighs more. I can't tip the scale. I shouldn't tip the scale. This is his decision. His life. His mountain to climb.

I coped by making Brunswick stew, because Brunswick stew is the food of complicated situations — it's a stew that can't decide what it is (soup? stew? barbecue side?) and therefore feels appropriate for a week where nothing is decided and everything is possible.

In a large pot: shredded leftover pork shoulder (or chicken — I used pork from a previous smoke), diced potatoes, lima beans, corn (I used my frozen fried corn from August), canned diced tomatoes, chicken broth, barbecue sauce (just a cup, for tang), Worcestershire sauce, salt, pepper. Simmer for two hours until everything is thick and melded and the potatoes have broken down slightly and the whole thing is more stew than soup. Betty made a version of this — she called it "garden stew" because she didn't know it was from Brunswick, Georgia — and she put whatever was in the garden and whatever was in the freezer into a pot and called it done.

We ate Brunswick stew on Wednesday night, the three of us at the kitchen table, and nobody talked about EKU or the Army. We talked about the weather. We talked about Amber's clinical rotation (she got the ER internship). We talked about Betty's eyes (stable, for now). We talked about everything except the elephant in the room, because the elephant was Clay's to ride and we were just the audience.

The potatoes in that Brunswick stew did exactly what I needed them to do — they broke down slowly, absorbed everything around them, and held the whole thing together. Weeks like this one, I keep coming back to potatoes. There’s a standalone version I make when the stew isn’t the right call but the need is the same: something that requires just enough attention to keep your mind from running too far ahead. These garlic herb potatoes — crispy where they hit the pan, creamy all the way through — are that recipe. You can make them while you’re waiting on news that isn’t yours to rush.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 40 minutes | Total Time: 50 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

2 lbs baby Yukon Gold or small red potatoes, halved
3 tablespoons olive oil
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon dried rosemary
1 teaspoon dried thyme
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
1/2 teaspoon onion powder
3/4 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
2 tablespoons fresh flat-leaf parsley, chopped
2 tablespoons grated Parmesan (optional)

Instructions

Preheat. Heat oven to 425°F. Line a large rimmed baking sheet with parchment paper or coat with nonstick spray.
Dry the potatoes. Halve the potatoes and pat them thoroughly dry with paper towels. Moisture is the enemy of a crispy edge — don’t skip this step.
Season. In a large bowl, toss the dried potatoes with olive oil, minced garlic, rosemary, thyme, garlic powder, onion powder, salt, and pepper until every cut side is evenly coated.
Arrange cut-side down. Place potatoes cut-side down in a single layer on the prepared baking sheet. Give them room — crowded potatoes steam instead of roast.
Roast undisturbed. Bake for 35–40 minutes without stirring. The cut sides should be deep golden brown and the skins lightly crisped. Test doneness by piercing the thickest piece with a fork — it should slide in without resistance.
Finish and serve. Transfer to a serving dish, scatter with fresh parsley and Parmesan if using, and serve immediately while the contrast between the crust and the center is at its best.

Nutrition (per serving)

Crispy Outside, Creamy Inside Garlic Herb Potatoes — Something to Do With Your Hands While You Wait