← Back to Blog

Skillet Scalloped Potatoes — The Dish I Make When I Can’t Fix Anything Else

Peter called on Wednesday night. It was eleven PM, which is never a good sign. People who call at eleven PM are either drunk, in crisis, or both. Peter was — I think — the first one, maybe edging toward the second. He didn't say much. He asked about the weather in Duluth (fine), about Sven (also fine), about whether the tomatoes were in yet (they are). He did not ask about his wife, and I did not bring her up. There is a dance that mothers and adult children do around difficult topics, and it requires that the mother wait until the child is ready, even when the mother's instinct is to break down the door and fix everything. I could hear it in his voice, though. The flatness. The way he laughed at nothing funny and didn't laugh at things that were. Something is wrong in Chicago. Something has been wrong for a while. Peter is forty-three, an engineer, a man who builds bridges — literally, he designs bridges — and something in his own life is buckling under weight it wasn't designed to carry. I didn't push. I told him about Sophie's graduation. I told him about the garden. I told him about Paul's latest shipwreck obsession (the SS Bannockburn, a ship that disappeared in 1902 and was never found — "the Flying Dutchman of Lake Superior," Paul calls it). Peter listened and said "that's nice" and "tell Paul I said hi" and "I should come visit" and I said "yes, you should" and left it there. I didn't sleep well afterward. I lay in bed and listened to Paul breathe and Sven snore and I thought about Peter as a boy — cautious, serious, building things with LEGOs for hours in his room, the most like Pappa of my three children. Pappa was cautious and serious too. Pappa also drank when things got heavy. I see the echo and it frightens me. I made comfort food the next day because cooking is what I do when I can't do anything else. Tater tot hotdish — the most Minnesota dish in existence, and one that Mamma considers beneath her but that I love without apology. Ground beef, cream of mushroom soup (from a can — I know, I know), green beans, topped with tater tots, baked until golden. It is not elegant. It is not Swedish. It is hot and filling and it tastes like every church basement potluck of my childhood, and sometimes that's what you need. Paul ate a large square and said, "You only make hotdish when you're worried about something." This is true. Paul reads me the way he reads the lake — by studying the patterns over decades. I said, "Peter called late." Paul nodded. He knows what that means. He put his hand on mine for three seconds and went back to his book. I'm going to call Peter on Sunday. Not to push. Just to be there. That's what you do. You stay on the line.

I didn’t make the tater tot hotdish I was planning — I was short on tots — so I pivoted to scalloped potatoes in the skillet, which accomplishes the same thing: heat, starch, something that fills the house with a smell that feels like safety. When you’re sitting with worry you can’t name and a phone call you can’t un-hear, you need a recipe that doesn’t ask much of you. This one doesn’t. You slice, you layer, you let the pan do the work — and by the time Paul comes in for lunch, the kitchen smells like everything is fine, even when it isn’t quite yet.

Skillet Scalloped Potatoes

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 35 minutes | Total Time: 50 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

  • 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
  • 1 small yellow onion, thinly sliced
  • 3 cloves garlic, minced
  • 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
  • 1 1/2 cups whole milk
  • 1/2 cup chicken or vegetable broth
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt, plus more to taste
  • 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
  • 1/4 teaspoon smoked paprika
  • 2 pounds Yukon Gold potatoes, scrubbed and sliced 1/8-inch thin
  • 1 cup shredded sharp cheddar cheese, divided
  • 2 tablespoons fresh chives or parsley, chopped (for garnish)

Instructions

  1. Build the base. Melt butter in a large oven-safe skillet over medium heat. Add the sliced onion and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened and translucent, about 5 minutes. Add the garlic and cook 1 minute more until fragrant.
  2. Make the sauce. Sprinkle flour over the onion mixture and stir to coat. Cook for 1 minute. Gradually whisk in the milk and broth, then add salt, pepper, and smoked paprika. Stir until the sauce is smooth and beginning to thicken, about 3 minutes.
  3. Layer the potatoes. Arrange the potato slices in the skillet, overlapping slightly and pressing them down gently into the sauce. The sauce should come about halfway up the potatoes. Scatter 1/2 cup of the cheddar over the top.
  4. Cover and cook. Reduce heat to medium-low, cover the skillet with a lid or foil, and cook for 20 minutes, until the potatoes are nearly tender when pierced with a knife.
  5. Broil until golden. Preheat your broiler to high. Uncover the skillet, sprinkle the remaining 1/2 cup cheddar over the top, and place under the broiler for 4–5 minutes until the cheese is bubbly and golden brown. Watch it closely.
  6. Rest and serve. Remove from the oven and let rest for 5 minutes before serving. Scatter fresh chives or parsley over the top and serve directly from the skillet.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 290 | Protein: 10g | Fat: 12g | Carbs: 36g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 380mg

Linda Johansson
About the cook who shared this
Linda Johansson
Week 20 of Linda’s 30-year story · Duluth, Minnesota
Linda is a sixty-three-year-old retired nurse from Duluth, Minnesota, living alone in the house where she raised her children and said goodbye to her husband. She lost Paul to ALS in 2020 after two years of watching the kindest man she'd ever known lose everything but his dignity. She cooks Scandinavian comfort food and Minnesota hotdish and the pot roast Paul loved, and she sets two places at the table out of habit because it makes her feel less alone. Every recipe she writes is a person she's loved.

How Would You Spin It?

Put your own twist on this recipe — what would you add, remove, or swap?