Pleasures of the Season: New Potatoes

“Pleasures of the Season” is a series of posts which appear from time to time.  They focus on something special that occurs only seasonally, often fleeting, and something we anticipate.  In some cases, the season is quite short, other are a bit longer.  The posts are sometimes food related, sometimes not, but highlight moments of what I’ve learned about living with the seasons since moving to Southern France.

In early spring, when the air is still cool and the morning fog lingers until just before lunchtime, Christophe gets the tiller out and starts to plow the garden.  It’s too early for the seasonal summer crops of tomatoes and eggplant, but it’s just the right time to get the potatoes in the ground.  By early afternoon, the ground is turned and the promise of rich dirt lies before us.  Bugs hover above the ground for warmth and we look giddily at the 30 pound bag of potatoes to be planted and wonder what they will produce in the next few months.  One by one they are placed on the earth and carefully covered.  It is not until three weeks later that we can see the small sprouts pushing the earth aside and making their way towards the sun.  Soon, the plants are large enough to be mounded and are watered in furrows weekly.  Flowers appear and the foliage grows amble all along as we ask the question, “How do you think they’re doing under there?”

We wonder, we talk about previous crops, and we wait.  Then, a moment in late June arrives when Christophe says, “Let’s pull one up to get an idea of what’s going on.”

We gather around the plant and wait for the moment to see if our work, the weather, and luck have played in our favor.  This is the moment when we hold our breath as we unearth the first plant from the garden.  Christophe pulls it up and then slowly digs around with a hoe; one, two, three potatoes emerge.  He plunges his hand into the dirt and finds four or five more.

“If this plant is indicative of what is to come, it looks like it’s going to be a good year”, he says.  We take the potatoes to the nearby zinc watering tub and rinse them off.  They are smooth and firm to the touch, we smile.  Then, carrying the potatoes, we turn back to the house and start on dinner.

The taste of new potatoes is something extraordinary -   part nutty, part sweet, and something that cannot be found in the supermarket.  But what makes them even more wonderful is the work, the wondering, and the memories left by planting them.