Digging Potatoes

When I was a kid, my Granny and Grandpa Howser lived in the countryside in a basement house with a massive garden behind it, and another smaller garden in front of it.  The front garden was full of all sorts of vegetables, but the back garden is where they grew their potatoes.  I remember it well, mainly because I hated that potato patch.  Here's why:  Every summer about the time it got to be too hot to do anything but jump in the creek, my mother would load us kids up in the car and head toward Granny and Grandpa's house--to dig potatoes. 

I loved my grandparents, but oh how I hated to dig potatoes.  It was back-breaking work done in brain-melting heat.  Us kids were miserable, and I can vividly remember standing in the sweltering summer sun in that dry dirt patch that seemed to go on for miles and vowing (like Scarlett O'Hara) that as God as my witness, when I grew up, I would never dig potatoes again.

I broke my vow.  It's funny how things change.  Now I love to grow potatoes, and I don't really mind digging them either.  I think it's because I've figured out an easier way to do it. 

Here's my secret:  I use raised beds, and I stagger my plantings. 
This is a photo of my potatoes planted beside my leeks (the blue-green spiky leaves). The raised beds allow me to plant deeply and closely, allowing for a large harvest in a small space. 

I plant three times a year so I always have potatoes throughout the growing season, and I don't have to harvest them all at once.  Hallelujah!

When the plants flower and start to die back, it's time to harvest.  So I grab a bucket and a shovel, and go at it.  Some potatoes are easy to unearth just by pulling the plant up out of the loose soil in the beds.  I do this first, and then I start digging. 

I gently press the shovel into the soil and slowly pry upwards.  It's really amazing to see the pretty red potatoes rise to the surface this way.  Red Pontiacs are my favorite variety because they taste great at any size, they store well, and again, they're pretty.  The red skins make them easy to see when you're digging, too.

Even Will volunteers for the task, and unlike me as a child, he really seems to enjoy it.  He also knows how wonderful they taste, fresh from the garden.  Here's why:  The sugars in a fresh potato start to convert to starch as soon as they are harvested.  The longer they're stored, the more starchy they become, and the less flavor they have.  A fresh potato is so sweet, moist and creamy, there's absolutely no comparison to be made with a store bought potato.

The fresh potatoes go in the bucket, most of which will be stored in the basement where the climate is great for keeping potatoes for long periods of time.  I first pick through the potatoes and remove any that are blemished.  These are fine to eat in the immediate future, but they'll rot if stored long-term. 

I also let the potatoes sit in the sun for a day or two to "cure" them.  This allows the skins, which are paper thin and easily rubbed off when first dug up, to toughen up so the spuds can endure storage better.  Then to the basement they go, unwashed, of course.  The dirt adds a protective layer against moisture and bacteria, and it helps prevent them from rotting mid-winter.

Finally, I bring inside the smaller, immature potatoes (called "new potatoes") and the blemished ones.  I stash most of them in my potato drawer, but I can never resist washing off a few and serving them for dinner.  In fact, we usually spend the next week gorging ourselves on dishes like fried dill potato salad, smashed potatoes, peas and new potatoes, creamed potatoes...there's no end to the recipes!  And there's no comparing the flavor of these fresh spuds with store bought ones.  You just have to taste them to believe it.  And if you don't agree, then fiddle-dee-dee.
I'll think about that tomorrow!