The best thing I ever ate
In seventh grade, I devised what I call my “plate of favorites” instead of a favorite food. It’s a magical dinner plate. A plate that expands to fit all my favorite foods. So there’s homemade macaroni and cheese next to miso ramen next to this apple tart my mom makes. I can’t choose just one. I can’t even choose between a dill pickle and a sweet pickle. Sometimes they’re interchangeable. Sometimes only a sweet pickle will do. Or a dill. Food is my favorite. Well, good food is my favorite.
But the other night, I might have eaten the best thing yet. It’s a riff on Smitten Kitchen’s crisped chickpeas over garlicky yogurt. Mix yogurt, minced garlic, and salt together in the middle of a plate. Top it with almost-caramelized yam half-moons, lemon juice, and flakey, fried chickpeas. I like it with dill and Maldon salt, too.
The garlicky yogurt, by the way, taught me why people like ranch dressing. Garlicky yogurt is ranch in its platonic form. There’s acid, umami, and that thought I get when I’m eating Doritos: “This shit is good.”
The sweet yams and tangy yogurt marry like platanos fritos con crema. They marry so well I needed to break into my 12-years-rusty Spanish to describe it. Needed to.
The dill and lemon recall salmon at their best. May they rest in peace.
And then there’s the hot crunch of the fried chickpeas. You know the kind of crunch you get when you stack 10 saltines and smash them with your fist. Imagine that—in your mouth—but also like spicy french fries.
In true rebel fashion, this dish gets better with each bite. I think it’s the variable reward structure. No bite tastes the same. (This is not marriage advice.)
It’s that thing that happens with all good art. The whole is greater than the sum of its parts.
Servings: 2 Time: 1 hour Via: Adapted from Smitten Kitchen
1 15-ounce can chickpeas, drained and rinsed
2 small garlic cloves, pressed or minced
1 cup plain yogurt
7 tablespoons olive oil, divided
1 large lemon + zest
1 pound-ish Garnet yams (or other sweet potato)
Kosher salt to taste (I prefer Diamond brand)
Red pepper flakes to taste
Dried dill to taste (or a fresh herb like mint or Italian parsley)
Heat oven to 400 degrees F.
Cut yams lengthwise down the center and then in roughly 1/4 inch half-moon slices.
Add 1 tablespoon of the olive oil to a large sheet pan and spread it evenly with your hand. Toss the yams over the baking sheet, add another 2 tablespoons of olive oil over top, and salt and pepper to taste. Mix it up and spread the yams evenly in one layer (if possible) on the baking sheet.
Roast for 20 minutes. Then, flip the yams over and roast for another 15 minutes or so—until they’re tender and just browned in places.
While the yams roast, stir together the yogurt, garlic, and a few pinches of kosher salt. Sometimes I add a few grinds of pepper, too. Divide among two plates and spread out in an even layer.
After rinsing and draining chickpeas, dry them in a single layer on a towel.
Heat the remaining 4 tablespoons olive oil in a cast-iron skillet over medium-high. Add the chickpeas and pan-fry, stirring regularly, until golden brown and crispy—about 10 minutes. A splatter screen definitely comes in handy here.
Drain the chickpeas onto a towel that’s okay to get oily. While they’re still very hot, add kosher salt, red pepper flakes, and lemon zest. Stir to coat evenly.
Squeeze the lemon juice over the roasted yams as soon as they come out of the oven.
Transfer the roasted yams to the prepared yogurt. Sprinkle fried chickpeas on top. Finish with a garnish of dried dill and a few flakes of Maldon salt for good measure.
I like to eat this right away so I get the most contrast between the cold yogurt and hot yams and chickpeas, but it’s great as it moderates to room temperature, too.
Nutmeg. This is just a note that I want to try this recipe with nutmeg. Love, PaPa. Just kidding. Why do grandparents think they have to sign their names at the end of each text? Why do I leave my phone number at the end of each voicemail? Why do I leave voicemails?