It started because the house was too cold, and I refused to turn the heat on before November.
Maine stubbornness. Or maybe just mine.
Anyway—the oven was already warm from Mae’s frozen pizza, so I kept it going. I remembered Martha had some version of potatoes drowned in cream. I didn’t look it up. I just… remembered.
Her Highness calls them “Potatoes Au Gratin.” Of course she does.
What the Original Looked Like
Martha’s version is so composed it practically curtsies. Yukon Golds peeled like they’re royalty. Garlic rubbed into the dish like a blessing. She simmers cream with nutmeg—hers probably flown in from somewhere poetic—and finishes it with Gruyère, grated precisely to the gram.
The instructions are clean. So is the dish. One pan, no drama. It’s elegant, structured, the kind of thing you make when your apron doesn’t have flour on it already.
What I Did Differently
I didn’t peel the potatoes. That was the first mutiny.
Then I used that old green Pyrex bowl that always smells like butter no matter how many times I wash it. I added more cheese—some cheddar that was sweating in the fridge drawer. And I didn’t measure the nutmeg. I don’t even know where mine came from. Maybe the same place as the sea salt from Provincetown. That laugh still stings.
I was too tired to follow the cream-to-milk ratio. It was just a guess. Heavy on the heavy.
The Way It Happened in My Kitchen
I used the dented Dutch oven again. It’s technically not right for this, but neither am I.
The garlic clove was shriveled but still smelled like my dad’s hands—he used to smash garlic with his fist, then rinse with lemon. I do it with the flat of a knife and pretend it’s the same.
Sliced the potatoes thin enough. Some were thicker. I don’t know. Mae came in mid-slice asking if the cat could eat potato. I said no. She asked why not. I didn’t answer.
The cream boiled too hard while I was grating cheese.
I stirred anyway. Burnt a bit at the edge. Kept it. Poured it over the potatoes like I knew what I was doing.
I didn’t layer them. Just piled and pressed. Like patching a roof. Or grief.
When the cheese went on top, it didn’t cover everything. That was fine. I like the weird crispy pieces more than the perfect melt. I watched it bubble through the glass door. I remembered the first time I made something like this—it was after the fire. The plastic spoon melted. I still have it.
When it was done, I let it sit. Mostly because I forgot about it while scrolling through old photos of Mae in Halloween costumes that don’t fit her anymore.
A Few Things I Learned
You can’t smell nutmeg without thinking of Christmas before the divorce.
The unpeeled skins crisp up in a way Martha probably wouldn’t like. I did.
Potatoes don’t ask questions. They just soften.
What I Did With the Extras
There weren’t many. Mae picked the top off with her fingers while it cooled. We stood at the counter and ate out of the pan. No plates. She said, “This is better than the boxed stuff,” and I pretended I didn’t tear up.
Would I Make It Again?
Yeah. But not when I’m trying to impress anyone. Just when I’m cold. Or mad. Or both.
That’s As Much As I Remember
The oven buzzed. The house warmed up. Not enough to fix anything—but enough to sit in.
If you want something messier, I made a version of Her Highness’s cheesy leek bake last winter that nearly broke the oven—but worth it.
FAQs
Nope. martha says yes. i say leave the skins if you’re tired or mad or just like things a little rugged.
Of course. just grab what’s in the drawer. I once used swiss and leftover mozzarella. still worked. still fed us.
Fresh hits harder. but the edges get magical after a night in the fridge. I’ve eaten it cold, standing, with a fork straight from the pan.
Yeah. assemble, cover, refrigerate. bake when you’re ready. I’ve done it a day early—tasted like a plan, for once.
Depends how heavy your hand is with the cream. mine was generous. felt like a hug from someone who forgot your birthday but made it up with cheese.
Skip it. cinnamon is not the same. (don’t ask—my ex tried that once.)
Check out More Recipes
- Martha Stewart Cream Cheese Pound Cake
- Martha Stewart Lemon Pound Cake
- Martha Stewart Vanilla Pound Cake Recipe
- Martha Stewart Pumpkin Cheesecake
Martha Stewart Potatoes Au Gratin
Description
Creamy and sharp with a little defiance baked in. Good enough to fight the cold.
Ingredients
Instructions
- Preheat the oven: Set it to 375°F. I was already baking Mae’s frozen pizza, so mine was hot and impatient.
- Prep the pan: Rub the inside of your baking dish with the cut side of the garlic. I used the Dutch oven. Dent and all.
- Warm the cream mixture: Heat the cream, milk, nutmeg, salt, and pepper until it bubbles at the edges—then forget it’s on the stove for a second. That part’s optional.
- Slice the potatoes: Thin-ish. I used a dull knife and a little resentment. Some came out thicker. Nobody complained.
- Combine it all: Toss the potatoes in the hot cream with your hands if you’re feeling something. I was. Dump everything into your dish. Don’t layer. Just… patchwork it.
- Top with cheese: Scatter it. Don’t cover every inch. I like the bits that get too brown.
- Bake until bubbling and loud: Around 1 hour and 15 minutes. Put a tray underneath if your oven’s dramatic like mine.
- Let it sit: I forgot about it for 10 minutes while scrolling old Halloween photos of Mae. That worked fine.