The first time I ate Crispy Smashed Potatoes with Garlic Herb Aioli, I was sitting on a flat rock above the Gorges du Verdon, boots off, socks drying in the sun. Our guide on the four-day trek through Haute-Provence was a wiry man named Étienne Rouvier who used to be a cheesemonger in Aix before he got tired of indoor light. He had carried the potatoes in his pack for two days. Along with a small jar of olive oil, four cloves of garlic, and one whole lemon wrapped in a bandana.
Meeting Étienne on the Verdon Trail
I booked the trek through a small outfitter in Moustiers-Sainte-Marie. Six of us, four days, packs heavier than promised. Étienne was the kind of guide who said almost nothing for the first morning and then, around lunch, started telling you exactly which wild herbs at your feet were thyme and which were savory.
On the second night he set up a tiny camp stove on a flat rock and pulled out the potatoes. Small, waxy, the size of golf balls. He boiled them in salted water from his thermos pot. Then he tipped them into a tin colander he had folded inside his sleeping bag of all places.
While they sat steaming, he pounded garlic in a small marble mortar he travelled with. I asked him if that was overkill for a hike. He shrugged. He said his grandmother in Cassis used the same one for sixty years and it would outlive him.
The Provençal Aioli, Briefly
The aioli is the older half of this dish by a few centuries. The word itself comes from the Provençal alh, garlic, and òli, oil. By the Middle Ages it had become a real thing in southern France, pounded by hand, traditionally without egg. The egg yolk is a later refinement, the one most of us cook with today.
In Provence the sauce sits at the center of a Friday meal called the grand aïoli. Salt cod, boiled vegetables, snails sometimes, a mountain of garlic mayonnaise in the middle of the table. Étienne told me about it the way some people talk about Christmas dinner.
The smashed potato part, by contrast, is modern. The boil-then-smash-then-roast trick is a 2000s home-cook invention that food media made famous. So this dish is half ancient Provence, half early-blog era. I find that funny.
Bringing It Back to LA
I emailed Étienne when I got back to my apartment. He answered three weeks later, in two short lines, with a recipe written in a tiny careful hand and a postscript about which olive oil to look for. We still email twice a year. He sends me photos of his dog.
The first time I tried his version in my own kitchen I got cocky and used russets. They fell apart the second I pressed them. Floury potatoes do that. Yukon Gold or baby red, golf-ball sized, are the only ones worth using. I learned this the hard way and then again the next week when I forgot and bought russets a second time.
I get the small Yukons from the Hollywood Farmers’ Market on Sunday mornings, the stall on the west end run by a guy who keeps the good ones in a flat under the table. The olive oil I use for the aioli is from the same Lebanese deli on Fairfax I use for everything. Mild, fruity, not the peppery one. The peppery one wrecks the emulsion.
What I Used
- Two pounds of small waxy potatoes, Yukon Gold or baby red
- Three tablespoons of kosher salt for the water
- Half a cup of extra-virgin olive oil for roasting, plus more for the pan
- Flaky sea salt and freshly ground black pepper to finish
- Four cloves of garlic, peeled
- One quarter teaspoon fine sea salt, for the aioli
- One large egg yolk at room temperature
- Three-quarter cup of mild, fruity extra-virgin olive oil for the aioli
- Two teaspoons fresh lemon juice, plus more to taste
- Two tablespoons flat-leaf parsley, finely chopped
- One tablespoon chives, snipped
- One teaspoon fresh tarragon, chopped
The Cooking, in My Actual Kitchen
I make these on Saturday afternoons when the kitchen gets that flat west light through the window above the sink. The cast iron is usually off duty for this one. It is a sheet pan job.
I boil the potatoes in heavily salted water until a fork slides in with no fight. Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes. Then they go into the colander and I leave them. Five full minutes. Do not skip this part. Surface moisture is what makes them sad and soft instead of glassy and crackling.
While they sit, I heat the oven to 425 and pour three tablespoons of olive oil onto the sheet pan. Once the potatoes are dry I lay them out and press each one flat with the bottom of a heavy water glass. About a quarter inch thick. The edges should split and look ugly. Ugly is good.
Then more oil over the tops, salt, pepper, and into the upper third of the oven. I do not flip them. Thirty-five to forty-five minutes, until the bottoms are dark and the edges look like they might shatter.
While the oven does its work I make the aioli. The mortar comes out. Garlic and salt first, pounded until smooth and sticky. Then the yolk. Then the oil, drop by stubborn drop until the mixture turns pale and starts holding itself together. Once it thickens I switch to a thin stream and keep going.
The first time I tried to rush this I dumped a quarter cup of oil at once and it broke instantly. I poured the broken mixture into a measuring cup and started over with a fresh yolk. Now I go slow. Boring is fine.
Tarragon and Other Small Choices
Lemon juice goes in last, then parsley, chives, and tarragon. Tarragon is the one most people skip. Do not skip the tarragon. It is the herb that makes this taste French and not just garlicky.
I have made it with dill instead, once, when I had no tarragon. It was fine. Not the same. I have also made it without herbs altogether, which is closer to the old Provençal version, and that was honestly excellent. I almost prefer it that way. Almost.
Eating Them, Standing Up
I serve the potatoes the second they come off the pan, piled on a warm plate, aioli in a small bowl next to them. Lemon wedges if I remember. A green salad if I am pretending to be civilised.
Cold leftovers do not work. Eat them all in one go. Étienne told me this on the trail and he was right about it the same way he was right about everything else.
Crispy Smashed Potatoes With Garlic Herb Aioli
Ingredients
Equipment
Method
- Place the potatoes in a large pot and cover with cold water by 2 inches. Add 3 tablespoons kosher salt. Bring to a boil, then reduce to a steady simmer and cook for 15 to 20 minutes, until a fork slides easily into the center of a potato with no resistance.
- Drain the potatoes well in a colander, then leave them sitting in the colander for a full 5 minutes to steam-dry. Surface moisture is the enemy of crispness, so do not rush this.
- While the potatoes drain, position a rack in the upper third of the oven and preheat to 425 F. Pour 3 tablespoons of olive oil onto a rimmed sheet pan and tilt to coat evenly.
- Arrange the drained potatoes on the oiled sheet pan with 2 inches of space between them. Using the flat bottom of a glass or measuring cup, press straight down on each potato until it is about one-quarter inch thick. The edges should split and tear, which is exactly what you want.
- Brush or drizzle the tops of the smashed potatoes with the remaining 5 tablespoons of olive oil, making sure to coat the ragged edges. Sprinkle generously with flaky sea salt and the black pepper.
- Roast for 35 to 45 minutes, without flipping, until the bottoms are deeply golden and the edges are dark and crackly. If your oven runs cool, give them an extra 5 minutes rather than turning up the heat.
- While the potatoes roast, make the aioli. In a mortar, pound the 4 garlic cloves with the one-quarter teaspoon fine sea salt until you have a smooth, sticky paste with no visible chunks.
- Add the egg yolk to the mortar and work it into the garlic paste with the pestle until fully combined and slightly paler in color, about 30 seconds.
- Begin adding the three-quarter cup of olive oil one drop at a time, pounding constantly, until the mixture begins to thicken and look creamy. Once it has emulsified, switch to a slow, thin stream of oil, stirring continuously, until all the oil is incorporated and the aioli is thick enough to hold a peak.
- Stir in the lemon juice, then fold in the parsley, chives, and tarragon. Taste and adjust with more salt or lemon juice as needed. Transfer to a small serving bowl.
- When the potatoes come out of the oven, slide a thin spatula under each one to release it, then pile them onto a warm platter. Serve immediately, with the garlic herb aioli alongside for dipping or dolloping.