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Do you hear that crackling sound? That’ll be your shoulders searing under the sun while you wrestle through a seventh round of Uno, Fanta Limón warming beside you, a plate of patatas bravas on the horizon. Childhood holidays in the Costa Brava had a particular rhythm: blistered Brits, fluorescent lilos, and those fried golden spuds groaning below the weight of garlic mayo and tomato sauce.
These days, summer lands with a more local thud. But I find the spirit of longer, warmer days can still be evoked with a generous plate of sauce-slicked spuds eaten outside with a cold beer (and sometimes a brolly). This recipe is my English homage to the Spanish classic – less Madrid bar and more windy picnic spot in Zone Four – but it makes the most of Jersey’s finest export: the Jersey Royal potato. Grown close to the sea in light, well-drained soils using seaweed harvested from Jersey beaches as a natural fertiliser (locally known as vraic), these potatoes have a delicate, saline flavour and buttery texture that doesn’t need much culinary intervention. Harvested from the end of March through to July, this is the perfect time to grab yourself a bag of muddy spuds, give them a scrub and lace up your apron.
Unlike traditional patatas bravas, these potatoes aren’t fried but boiled in well-salted water (starting cold, so they don’t turn to mush), then tossed in olive oil. The tomato sauce is thick, smoky and paprika-laced – it should cling rather than pour. Instead of faffing about with an aioli that might split at the eleventh hour, I go for a garlic-spiked crème fraîche. Lighter, pleasingly sour, and far less needy. These make the perfect summer barbecue side, but they’re just as happy topped with fried eggs or served with a few slices of ham for a full, vaguely continental meal.
