Grilled Ranch Potatoes were not on my list when I booked a two-day backyard grilling class in Austin last spring. I went for brisket. I left obsessed with a foil packet of potatoes I now make almost every weekend.
The class was at a place called Smokehouse Saturdays, run out of a backyard in East Austin by a pit master named Rhett who used to compete on the Texas barbecue circuit before his knees gave up on standing over an offset all weekend. He had a beat-up Weber kettle, a Big Green Egg, two offsets, and a folding table covered in seasoning blends. The yard smelled like mesquite smoke and citronella and the neighbor’s freshly cut grass.
The Austin Class That Sold Me on a Foil Packet
Rhett spent the first morning on brisket. Good brisket. The next day he was setting up for what he called the easy round, sides nobody fusses over but everybody finishes, and he opened a packet of ranch seasoning over a bowl of halved baby reds. I almost rolled my eyes. Foil-packet potatoes felt like a recipe-blog cliche.
I am glad I did not. Twenty-five minutes later Rhett peeled the packet open on the grill, slid the potatoes cut-side down onto the grates for the last five minutes of char, and handed each of us a paper boat with a wooden fork. The edges were dark and craggy. The insides were salty and faintly herby and almost creamy. I asked for the recipe before I had finished chewing, which I do not normally do because every other student asks for the recipe and the instructor gets bored saying it.
A Short History of Why Ranch Tastes Like Summer
Rhett told me what I later confirmed in writing. This is not an old dish. Ranch seasoning was invented in the 1950s by a guy named Steve Henson at his Hidden Valley dude ranch up in Santa Barbara County, California. After Clorox bought the brand in 1972 and pushed the dry packet into every grocery store in the country, home cooks started tossing the powder on everything from chicken to baked potatoes to popcorn.
The grilled foil-packet version really took off through recipe blogs and Pinterest in the 2000s and 2010s. So it is a modern American convenience dish built on a 20th-century commercial blend. Not heritage. Not regional. Just the unofficial flavor of the American backyard. Doritos sell their Cool Ranch chips abroad as Cool American, which tells you everything.
What I Used
Nothing exotic. Most of it is grocery store stuff, with one or two upgrades worth the detour.
- 2 lb baby red potatoes, or tiny Yukon Golds, scrubbed and quartered into 1-inch pieces
- 3 tbsp olive oil
- 2 tbsp ranch seasoning, one packet or a homemade blend with buttermilk powder, dried parsley, dill, garlic powder, and onion powder
- 2 tbsp unsalted butter, cut into small pats
- 1/2 tsp freshly ground black pepper
- 1 cup shredded sharp cheddar
- 4 slices bacon, cooked crisp and crumbled
- 2 tbsp fresh chives, thinly sliced for finishing
Bringing the Grilled Ranch Potatoes Home
When I got back to my apartment I tried it the very next Saturday. My setup is small. A Weber Q on the balcony, a cast iron I have had for nine years, and the chef’s knife with the wonky rivet I refuse to replace. A few things shifted when I cooked it here.
First, the potatoes. Rhett used grocery-bag baby reds. I get mine at the Hollywood farmers’ market on Sundays, where one of the stalls has Yukon Golds the size of golf balls with skins so thin you can rub them off with a thumb. The woman who runs the stall saves me the smallest ones in a paper bag if I am running late. They cost more. They earn it inside the foil, holding their shape while the starch goes silky.
Second, the seasoning. The first time I dumped in the full packet I overdid it and the cheddar shoved it past too salty into a place I would not feed anyone. Now I use a heaping tablespoon and a pinch of dried dill from my own jar. Rhett warned me not to add more thinking it would taste rancher. He was right. It just gets muddy.
Third, the cheese. I tried pepper jack once. Do not. The chili kick fights the ranch and you lose both. Sharp cheddar is correct. I usually grate it from a block because the bagged stuff has anti-caking dust that refuses to melt cleanly.
Notes from the Foil
A foil packet is not really grilling. It is steaming with smoke perfume. If you want char on the potatoes you must open the packet for the last five minutes and roll them cut-side down directly onto the grates. That step earns its keep. Skip it and you get soft potatoes with no edges, which is fine for a Tuesday but not for company.
I stack two sheets of heavy-duty foil now. The first time I made these on a Friday night a single sheet tore on the grates and butter dripped onto the burner. The smoke alarm went off. The dog hid. Worth a second sheet.
This is the bbq side dish people circle back to with their second beer. I have watched a grown man fork the last bits straight out of the foil with no shame. Leftovers, if any survive, get reheated in the cast iron the next morning with an egg cracked on top. Better than the original. Cold ones eaten standing at the counter also count.
What I Would Tell Rhett Now
I do not know if he would still call this his recipe. I have moved the salt down, swapped the potato, and started using salted butter on the lazy weeknights when I cannot be bothered to soften two tablespoons. The bones are still his though. I think about that East Austin yard most Saturdays around five, when the grill is heating up on the balcony and I am scrubbing potatoes at the sink.
Grilled Ranch Potatoes
Ingredients
Equipment
Method
- Preheat a gas or charcoal grill to medium heat, about 375 F. If using charcoal, bank the coals to one side to create an indirect zone.
- Scrub the baby red potatoes well and pat them dry. Halve the smaller ones and quarter the larger ones so every piece is roughly 1 inch. Uniform sizing is what gives you evenly cooked potatoes.
- In a large mixing bowl, combine the cut potatoes, olive oil, ranch seasoning mix, and black pepper. Toss with your hands until every piece is glossy and coated. Start with 2 tablespoons of ranch seasoning and resist the urge to add more, since the mix is salty and will concentrate as the potatoes cook.
- Lay one sheet of heavy-duty aluminum foil on the counter and stack the second sheet on top of it for insurance against tears. Mound the seasoned potatoes in the center.
- Scatter the small pats of butter over the top of the potato pile. Bring the long sides of the foil up and over the potatoes, folding the edges down twice to seal. Roll in the short ends to form a tight, sealed packet.
- Set the foil packet on the grill grates over medium heat, or on the indirect side if using charcoal. Close the lid and cook for 25 minutes, flipping the packet once at the halfway point so the potatoes cook evenly.
- Carefully open the packet, watching for hot steam. Pierce a potato with a fork. It should slide in with almost no resistance. If they need more time, reseal and grill another 5 to 10 minutes.
- For browned edges, open the packet fully and slide the potatoes cut-side down directly onto the grates for the final 5 minutes. Turn once with tongs to get color on two sides.
- Return the potatoes to the open foil packet and immediately scatter the shredded cheddar and crumbled bacon over the top. Loosely tent the foil for 2 minutes off the heat so the cheese melts from the residual warmth.
- Shower with fresh chives and serve straight from the foil while hot.