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Boniato is peeled, cubed and simmered in salted water until completely tender. Once drained, the boniato is returned to the warm pot to steam-dry, then mashed with butter, warmed garlic-infused olive oil, sour orange juice (or a lime-and-orange substitute), salt and pepper. The texture should be soft and spoonable, not stiff. Sour orange is the signature; without it the mash tastes flat.
Boulangère potatoes are a classic French gratin of thinly sliced potatoes and softened onions baked slowly in stock until tender, with a golden, crispy top. Unlike dauphinoise, they use stock rather than cream, making them a lighter accompaniment that absorbs all the savoury cooking liquid beautifully.
A Caribbean-Southern crossover that works because both traditions cook in a similar register: butter, peppers, alliums, slow heat, savoury depth. The brown stew base on top of the dish is Jamaican, bell peppers, carrot, Scotch bonnet, ginger, browning sauce, that mahogany-coloured gravy with the unmistakable allspice-and-thyme signature, and the bed underneath is from Lowcountry Charleston, where sweet potato grits enriched with butter, half-and-half and gouda are a long-running modern Southern restaurant standard. The shrimp themselves are quick-cooked and sweet, picking up the brown stew sauce. Two textures stacked: silky-rich grits, brothy stew on top with bite from the diced peppers and carrot. Smell is sweet-onion-and-browning-sugar over the corn-sweet base of the grits. Not difficult but it's two pans running at once, so timing matters; the grits hold on a low warm setting while the shrimp cook quickly. A modern fusion rather than a traditional dish, popularised by Black American chefs in the 2010s exploring the points of overlap between Lowcountry and Caribbean cookery.
The British Boxing Day breakfast, the dish invented to give yesterday's roast leftovers something useful to do. You roughly mash cooked potatoes with cooked greens (cabbage or sprouts traditionally), press the lot into a hot buttered pan, and leave it alone until a deep brown crust forms underneath. Then you flip it (in one heroic motion if you're brave, in broken pieces if you're sensible) and let the second side brown too. The name comes from the bubbling and squeaking the dish makes as it cooks. Eaten with a fried egg on top and a few slices of cold ham or yesterday's gravy, ideally with a strong cup of tea on the side and the remains of Christmas Day still on the kitchen table.
Maris Piper potatoes peel and chunk, boil in well-salted water until very tender, drain, return to the hot pan to steam off any moisture. Pass through a ricer or food mill into a clean pan. Cold butter cubes whisk in first; warm milk loosens to the right consistency; salt to taste.
Celeriac and potato dauphinoise is a rich, creamy French gratin that pairs the earthy nuttiness of celeriac with tender potato slices, all baked in a garlicky double cream. The addition of softened onions and a golden grilled top makes this an indulgent accompaniment to steaks and robust beef dishes.
Spring onions infuse hot milk for 10 minutes off the heat. Floury potatoes boil and dry; everything mashes together with a generous amount of butter. The classic finish: a hollow scooped out of the centre of the mound on each plate, filled with melting butter.
Chicken pieces brown in oil and butter; finished in the oven 20 minutes. Tiny diced potatoes shallow-fry separately until gold; cremini mushrooms sauté; peas warm through. Everything tosses with chopped garlic, butter, lemon, parsley and a splash of dry sherry, then heaps onto the resting chicken. Eaten with crusty French bread.
Floury potatoes boil; cabbage or kale wilts in butter with spring onions; the lot is mashed with hot milk and lots of butter. The cabbage softens but keeps a little texture; the mash should be smooth, with green flecks throughout.
Chicken thighs (or lamb) are browned, onions and tomato cooked down with garlic and a single whole chilli, then the meat simmers in stock until tender. A loose peanut paste is stirred in for the final 20 minutes, kept thin enough to ladle. Sweet potato or pumpkin softens in the sauce. A spoon of lime juice at the end balances the richness.
Bhutan's national dish, built on an honest two-ingredient premise: chillies and cheese, in roughly equal volume. The flavour is two things held in tension. The fierce burn of green chillies (jalapeños standing in for the hotter, more floral local Bhutanese varieties) on one side, the funky salty richness of blue cheese (Stilton or Gorgonzola standing in for the traditional yak cheese) on the other. The dairy fat tempers the burn just enough that you can actually eat it, but only just. The burn is the point. You build the dish out with beef, potato and tomato into a proper stew, and everything goes into the pot together to simmer until the cheese melts down into a fierce, creamy, chilli-flecked sauce. Eaten with red Bhutanese rice at most meals in Bhutan. Halve the chilli count the first time you cook it; the locals will laugh, but you'll be able to taste your next meal.
Waxy potatoes (Yukon Gold, Charlotte, or any low-starch variety) are peeled and sliced very thinly, 2-3 mm. A wide shallow gratin dish (or oven-safe heavy pan) is rubbed all over with a halved garlic clove, then heavily buttered. A cream-and-milk mixture warms in a saucepan with crushed garlic, salt, pepper, and a generous grating of nutmeg, brought just to a simmer, then strained. Potatoes layer in the dish, overlapping like shingles, with a sprinkle of salt and a few grinds of pepper between layers. The infused cream pours over to come up to (not over) the top layer. Baked at 160°C for about 90 minutes until the potatoes are fork-tender and the top is bubbling and golden-brown.
Irish stew is the epitome of rustic, peasant cooking elevated to comfort food status. Middle neck of lamb simmers gently with potatoes, onions, carrots, and cabbage in a light broth, with the potatoes gradually breaking down to thicken the sauce naturally. The result is a one-pot wonder that's wholesome, deeply flavorful, and warming, the kind of dish that feeds both body and soul on cold days.
The gentler, more domestic cousin of ema datshi: a Bhutanese family supper of potatoes simmered with chilli and cheese into a creamy, lively sauce. You slice waxy potatoes into thin rounds and drop them into a single pot with green chillies, onion, garlic, butter and the cheese mixture, then cover with water and simmer for about twenty-five minutes until the potatoes are tender and the cheese has melted into a thick, pale-yellow chilli-flecked sauce. The technique is the simplest in Bhutanese cooking: everything goes in together and cooks down without ceremony. The art is in the chilli-to-cheese ratio. More chilli and the dish reads as fiery; more cheese and it reads as rich. Either way it's eaten with red Bhutanese rice, the potatoes half-melting into the rice as you spoon.
This classic French potato and leek soup, known as Potage Parmentier, is a creamy, comforting dish made with simple ingredients. The subtle flavors of leeks and potatoes are enhanced by cream, creating a smooth and elegant soup. Perfect as a starter or light meal, served hot or chilled.
Bone-in beef or lamb is browned, then simmered with onions, garlic, tomato and stock. Smooth peanut butter is whisked in halfway and the stew thickens to a velvety coating. Chunks of cassava, sweet potato and cabbage cook in the sauce towards the end. Serve over plain steamed white rice.