{"id":246,"date":"2026-01-22T21:51:02","date_gmt":"2026-01-22T21:51:02","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/dianaludwick.com\/?p=246"},"modified":"2026-01-22T21:56:22","modified_gmt":"2026-01-22T21:56:22","slug":"easy","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/dianaludwick.com\/?p=246","title":{"rendered":"Easy"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
For dinner, they asked for the
'Easy tortilla de patatas,' and so
Sure, I said, how hard can that be?
Behold the fallacy of Easy.

Five-o-one; it's early, get ahead
print recipe, gather materials, start mise.
Need a mandoline \u2014 where's ours? 
Run to cellar, heave open closet door 
battle with six storage boxes, success!

Retrieve tool \u2014 how's it work? 
Better find a kevlar glove \u2014
Where's this knob go,
what's this piece? Am I safe?
Is this assembled correctly? 

Wash potatoes; scrub then peel.
Slippery strands of tawny flesh
fly from swiveling steel blade, 
land on counter with a plop
suctioning to surfaces like so many
starchy octopus arms.

Clean as you go, he always says.
Scoop, wipe, spray, towel dry.
Next step: aim to slice potatoes
but not fingertips, an age-old challenge.

Push down and out; 
potato skids clunkily over blade;
ragged thick chunks thud to the plate.
How dull is this contraption? Plan B.
Resort to manual knife skills.

Potato juices drip from cutting board
leaving creamy white paths on my 
re-cleansed workbench, now onions:
cue stinging chemical tears, ow ow ouch.

Heat to temp exorbitant glugs, 
nearly three cups of olive oil; 
slide in slices of potatoes each
adhered to one another like tiles.
 
Oh no, stop! 
Something's wrong.
Edges sizzle then brown; I've
made crisps, not softened rounds.

Pull pan from burner; 
conduct emergency extraction 
with bamboo and steel spider skimmer; 
hoist sepia chips to now oil-damp bowl.

Wash and rack shoddy guillotine 
as oil cools imperceptibly, unbothered.
Place pan to burner, to reheat to temp.

Add in remaining potatoes and onions
hope this will encourage even heating
Stir and stir and stir, twelve minutes
yet no obvious browning \u2014 oh God.

Forgot to turn burner back on \u2014
that will cost me a quarter hour.
Persevere, open carton, crack eggs
into gleaming glass bowl \u2014 

Sixth one is stuck to cardboard, 
it's shattered on bottom, unsafe, 
so dash to down to storage room; 
raid fridge, retrace steps, catch breath.

Season with salt \u2014 oh need to check oil!
Murky green fat boils off water
root veg now hints at progress;
this may get cooked after all.

Fork tender, okay, task strainer with
rescue mission; drain potatoes in 
fourth bowl, engage second catch basin,
shake to incite oil removal.

Pour olive sludge into measuring Pyrex
Return pan to heat
add potatoes to egg slurry
pour mixture into warmed skillet.

Sear bottom, forming tortilla crust
now fun: large plate over pan, invert.
Plot twist, no plate of this size exists
go on faith, flip anyway, hear slurping.

Log it as a win \u2014 keep moving 
come on. 
Slide thrashed tortilla back
into saute pan to finish.

Heat for five minutes, it says, fine.
Turn to dishes and tackle chaos.
Fill dishwasher; hand wash the rest
then disinfect countertop \u2014 again.

Hear movement down the stairs, 
socked feet enter kitchen.
Ah! Hi, can you set the table? 
Ugh! I'm busy, gotta go, homework! 

Alone again, press edges of egg
into and up the mounded slices.
Side-eye the soupy middle \u2014 
when's the end of this process?

Minutes tick by as green beans
hit colander, sprayed by faucet.
Summon some sausages from fridge,
two more courses to go.

Notice oil seeping all over cooktop \u2014
that's dangerous! 
Stop to clean, wipe, spray, wait, wipe
dunk more sullied towels into trash.

Tap on tortilla, it slowly solidifies
it's gotta be done, need that pan. 
Footsteps return, a hungry child
with expectant eyes peeks in at me.
 
Can you grab napkins? No, I hear.
Shake it off; return focus to fry pan.
Slide dodgy tortilla de patatas onto
another too-small plate; it sighs.

Drip spent oil back to pan; sear beans
swish them into a dish, grab meat links.
Brown sausages until casings burst
roll them onto yet another platter.

Noise in mudroom; I'm home! He says.
He enters galley, assesses the scene:
takes in finished, sagging tortilla and
pan-seared haricot vert and hot brats.

A quick nod, then: That was easy, right?
He waits; blinks as I stare back.
I break eye contact to find oven clock
It's seven forty-eight at night.

Dishwasher chirps, cycle's done
carry plates to the table, light tapers
place napkins, dig in and zing!
Gone in three minutes.

That was Easy.














<\/pre>\n\n\n\n
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