This crisp, classic potato latke recipe delivers a satisfying, celebratory crunch (2024)

So, latkes are something I’ve obsessed over since I was a kid, begging my mom to make them for me year-round. As an adult, I’ve made all kinds: with potatoes and with other vegetables, coarsely shredded and finely grated, fried and baked, with all manner of seasonings, spins and techniques.

But for me, nothing beats a crispy, lacy classic potato latke with few ingredients.

Latkes are akin to a good pair of jeans: quotidian and humble enough for weeknight dinners, festive and elevated for a dress-up occasion. Making them reminds of the Before Times when I threw latke parties — basically an excuse to eat as many potato pancakes as stomachs would allow, with or without various accoutrements, from simple sour cream and applesauce to decadent caviar. (And, obviously, bubbles to go with it all.)

This year, rather than making mountains of latkes, I’ll scale down for our family of three, but I still plan to throw a latke party. Finding joy and merriment where one can is one of 2020’s great lessons.

Most classic potato latke fans fall into two camps: those who like dense, finely grated ones shaped like hockey pucks and those who want coarsely shredded ones with lacy, crispy frilly bits and a bit of a disheveled look about them. I stand firmly in that latter camp.

To me a great latke is a decidedly crispy one, the kind that almost shatters against your teeth with a satisfying crunch. In the center, there’s a bit of softer potato as well. Like a great cookie, a great latke needs both — the crispy and the chewy — to be heavenly.

My latke recipe is simple and not unlike many out there: potatoes, a little onion, eggs and flour. I season the mixture with a generous helping of salt (don’t be afraid to use a generous hand here — the potatoes can handle it) and a bit of ground black pepper. Then I add my “secret” ingredient, which is potato starch. More starch and less liquid equals a crispier (and thus tastier) latke.

The idea to add extra starch occurred to me one day while patting dry chicken wings, which I was about to coat in cornstarch and then fry until crispy. What if, I thought, I did the same with latkes? Get rid of excess moisture and up the starch content for crispiness beyond compare.

I never looked back.

While the recipe is elementary and pantry-friendly, it’s important to start with the right kind of potato. Russets, packed with starch and relatively low in moisture, are ideal.

Once they’re shredded, it is important to drain the potatoes of as much water as possible — more liquid means a mushier latke. I like to wrap my grated potatoes in a cheesecloth bundle and then twist, twist, twist and squeeze, squeeze, squeeze. I drain that excess liquid into a bowl, which I let sit for a bit while I mix in the other ingredients. Once the starch in the drained liquid settles on the bottom, I carefully pour off the liquid and scrape the thick, chalklike layer of starch into the potato mixture. To answer the siren-call of promised crunch, I add an additional tablespoon of potato starch (though cornstarch will do in a pinch) to the mixture.

And then, I fry.

This Hanukkah, we will skip the decadent accoutrements, as they feel wrong against the backdrop of such a difficult year. We’ll forgo the caviar and the bubbles, and instead keep it simple, with plenty of sour cream and applesauce.

And as we light the menorah candles, we will wish for more light and joy in the upcoming year, looking forward to the time when we can see our loved ones and hug one another.