My interest in France wasn’t originally mine. Sure, I liked it. I got good grades in French class, and I loved the trip I took to Paris with my father when I was 10. But my interest was nothing in comparison with the infatuation my mother had for the country. She was the one who encouraged me every time I had the opportunity to come to France, and she was the one, years later, who would encourage every impulse I had to make my stay here more permanent.
My mother lived in Paris for nearly two years as an undergradutate student, going to AUP when it was still ACP, falling in love with Paris the way that is only possible when you’re young enough to have absolutely no idea what you want to do with your life. And while New York called her back, I can see how happy she is when, twice a year, she comes for a weekend to visit us — me and Paris.
My friends are curious about this tradition, to be sure. When my mom breezes through for the weekend, I can’t tell if they’re impressed or confused that she’ll only be here for a few days. But the days she’s here are just enough — we shop, we eat, we drink, we catch up on life. As the oldest of four, I didn’t grow up with that much alone time with either one of my parents, as much as they tried to make it happen, but for three days every fall, my mother is all mine.
She left this morning under a thin veil of early fall rain, a departure that had me yearning for home the way it doesn’t quite exist anymore, at least, not the way I remember it. Still, I can create my own version with my mother’s recipe for home fries and eggs, the perfect mid-afternoon meal, when you’re not sure whether it’s breakfast, lunch, or dinnertime, and when the threat of rain and gray clouds make an afternoon in pajamas a necessity.
Mom’s Home Fries and Fried Eggs
Inexact recipes like these drove me mad when I was first learning to cook, but I’ve since learned that home recipes like these, the ones that have been made hundreds of times without measuring devices, can only be given in such terms. Experiment; make it your own. At any rate, it’s nearly impossible to mess up something as organic as this.
1 potato per person (plus one for the pot)
half as many onions
a good amount of vegetable oil
a hefty pinch of salt
freshly ground black pepper
paprika (I didn’t have any… and it’s Sunday in Paris)
1-2 eggs per person
more vegetable oil
Parboil the potatoes until they’re nearly cooked. Meanwhile, slice the onions thinly, and heat the oil over medium heat. Add the onions and stir. Add the salt, pepper, and enough paprika to stain the onions pink.
When the potatoes are cooked, slice them and add them to the skillet with the onions. Allow to cook without moving until they form a crust, then flip and continue cooking until the crust has formed on the other side.
Remove the potatoes to a serving dish and add more vegetable oil to the skillet. Fry the eggs, seasoning with salt and pepper. I like mine runny; my mom does hers over easy and breaks the yolk.
Eggs and home fries were also the meal that my friend and I lived on at the end of the month at Chardon-Lagache!! When the monthly stipend was almost used up, we would buy a dozen eggs and 2 kilos of potatoes. A rasher of bacon from Marks and Spencers in the Place de l’Opera could be added if we found extra change in the sofa!!
You really have a wonderful way with words. Have you considered writing a book about an American girl in Paris?
Thanks for the compliment, Henry! No book in the works for now… maybe sometime in the future?
I love the wording on this recipe, my first though “this is the best recipe I’ve ever read”, here in canada this is a great recipe for camping, or hunting trips, depending on the group and size of potatoes may need two for the pot.