One might think, in the idle comfort of a rainy morning or the amber slant of afternoon light, that nothing could bring one closer to the golden warmth of past memories than the perfumed tang of Katz’s pastrami warmed on a skillet. The very act of slicing those salty, peppery remnants, imbued with the smoke of their long cure, is an invitation to reflection. The meat, as marbled as the faded letters of an old love, unfolds its texture beneath the knife, recalling a meal not eaten in haste but with reverence. Pair this with the earthy familiarity of roast potatoes—English-style, their edges crispened like pages turned too often—and the indulgence of a single fried egg, yolk trembling as though it might break into poetry itself. The dish becomes not merely sustenance but an allegory for the enduring pleasure of small restorations, as though each bite could resurrect a thousand sepia-colored afternoons.
Ingredients
- 2 cups leftover Katz’s pastrami, diced
- 4 medium-sized roasting potatoes (Yukon Gold or Maris Piper), peeled and diced into 1-inch cubes
- 1 small yellow onion, finely chopped
- 2 cloves garlic, minced
- 3 tablespoons duck fat or olive oil
- 2 large eggs
- Salt and freshly cracked black pepper, to taste
- Fresh parsley, finely chopped (optional)
Method
- Roast the Potatoes:
Begin as one must always begin—with patience. Preheat the oven to 425°F (220°C), allowing its warmth to fill the kitchen like a prelude. Toss the potato cubes with a generous drizzle of olive oil or duck fat, seasoning them with salt and pepper. Arrange them on a baking sheet, careful not to crowd, for they must brown as individuals. Roast for 20-25 minutes, turning once, until their edges are crisp and golden, their interiors soft as an embrace. - Prepare the Pastrami:
As the potatoes roast, heat a cast-iron skillet over medium heat. The pan must be hot enough to whisper promises of caramelization but not so hot as to singe. Add a tablespoon of duck fat, and when it shimmers, scatter in the diced pastrami. Let the pieces sizzle and pop, their fat rendering slightly. Stir occasionally, as though coaxing out confessions, until they are browned at the edges, 5-7 minutes. - Bring It Together:
Add the finely chopped onion to the skillet with the pastrami, cooking until translucent and soft, about 3 minutes. Stir in the minced garlic, its aroma as heady as a remembered kiss, and cook for 30 seconds more. By now, the roasted potatoes should be ready; transfer them from the oven into the skillet, tossing gently to combine. Taste and adjust the seasoning. - The Fried Egg:
In a separate nonstick skillet, melt a little butter over medium heat. Crack the eggs carefully, keeping their yolks intact, and fry until the whites are set and the yolks still runny—sunlit orbs that crown the hash. For those who desire less liquid nostalgia, flip for a moment to create a soft, golden cover. - Serve and Reflect:
Divide the hash onto warm plates, placing a fried egg atop each. Garnish with a whisper of parsley, if desired. Serve immediately, accompanied by a steaming cup of coffee or tea, and allow the dish to transport you—not merely to the memory of the deli counter but to all the moments it has touched in your life.
Nick Drake Playlist for Cooking
- “Northern Sky” – A soft glow of promise, much like the first crackling of pastrami in the pan.
- “Pink Moon” – Melancholy and luminous, for the quiet moments as potatoes roast.
- “Place to Be” – Reflective, like the stirring of onions in the skillet.
- “Hazey Jane II” – A brighter tempo, perfect for the energetic toss of hash in the skillet.
- “River Man” – Dreamlike and contemplative, a fitting close as you plate the dish and savor the result.
Eat slowly, for even the most humble of meals deserves its moment in time.
