I wasn’t planning on making anything that required time.
But the silence got too sharp. And the oven was already hot from something I didn’t finish.
So I grabbed the potatoes.
The big ones. The ones with dirt still clinging in the grooves.
Her Highness roasts them straight on the rack.
No foil. No fuss.
Like she’s daring them to fall apart.
What the Original Looked Like
Martha’s baked potatoes are crisp on the outside, soft as surrender inside.
She rubs them with olive oil and salt, pricks them with a fork, then just… lets them go. Right on the rack.
No tray. No foil. No safety net.
She fluffs them by slamming them. Yes, actually slamming them on the counter.
Then loads them with whatever she feels like: butter, sour cream, cheese, attitude.
They’re basic. But not boring.
What I Did Differently
Used sea salt instead of kosher. The big flaky kind that sticks in the cracks.
Only had three potatoes. One had a weird eye growing. I cut it out and carried on.
Didn’t fluff them gently. Slammed one a little too hard. Still good.
Used sour cream from a container that said “best by last week.” Lived to tell it.
The Way It Happened in My Kitchen
The smell hit around minute 50—earthy, like wet dirt getting warm.
I used my hands to rub them in oil. No brush. Just palms and memory.
Mae walked through and said, “You’re making those bomb potatoes again?”
I told her I was trying.
They hissed when I pierced them. Split easy.
I ate the first one straight from the towel I held it in. Burned my fingers a little. Didn’t care.
A Few Things I Learned
Sometimes the plainest food carries the most weight.
Salt matters.
So does slamming something now and then.
What I Did With the Extras
Wrapped one in foil for Mae’s lunch.
Ate one cold from the fridge with mustard.
Left the last one on the stove. It disappeared.
Would I Make Them Again?
Yeah.
Every time I need to feel like something simple can still be enough.
That’s As Much As I Remember
The oven’s off now. But the warmth stuck around longer than I thought it would.
if you want something messier, I made martha’s cheesy leek gratin once. loud, but comforting.
FAQs
yes. other kinds stay too firm or go gummy. russets know how to soften.
don’t. they’ll steam instead of crisp. martha says no. she’s right.
you do. unless you like soggy bottoms.
(if you must use a tray, use a rack on top.)
then the skins will be louder. and sometimes that’s the best part.
oven. 350°F (180°C). 15–20 minutes. they’ll come back warm, but never quite the same.
Martha Stewart’s Baked Potatoes (Nell’s Version)
Description
Golden-skinned, soft-hearted baked potatoes that taste like something you didn’t expect to need.
Ingredients
Instructions
- Preheat the oven. Set it to 400°F (200°C). No need for trays. Just heat.
- Scrub the potatoes. Get them clean. Really clean. Like they’ve got something to prove.
- Prick them with a fork. A few jabs per potato. Let the steam find its way out.
- Rub with oil. Use your hands. Olive oil everywhere. Don’t skimp.
- Salt them. Generously. More than you think.
- Bake directly on the oven rack. 60–75 minutes. Until they’re crisp-skinned and soft inside.
- Fluff them. Use a towel to hold each one. Press gently or slam it. Depends how you’re feeling.
- Slice open and serve. Hot, steamy, loud. Add butter, sour cream, whatever speaks to the day.