Burning Leaves Cooked the Perfect Potato

When I was a boy in Connecticut, Fall was my favorite time of year. By October the sun was still bright, but the crisp winds off Long Island Sound hinted that Winter’s cold was just around the corner. All the yards in my neighborhood had huge old maple and hickory trees, When the wind blew, scores of brightly colored leaves rained down on us. This was long before the days of mulching. My father would simply rake the dry leaves into a gigantic pile at the curb and light it on fire.

I know this was not good for the air quality index (a term which did not yet exist) but burning leaves was one of the highlights of the Fall. Children would circle around the fires for warmth watching in amazement as the leaves quickly caught fire and burned, giving off a wonderful aroma and crackling sounds.

My mother would give each child a large raw potato to throw into the burning leaves. Then we would search the neighborhood for the longest sticks we could find. We would periodically use the sticks to pull the potatoes out of the fire and check on their progress.

After what seemed like forever, the pile of leaves was reduced to a fine ash and our potatoes were done. We held them in gloved hands as we brushed off the blackened potato skin. I can still taste the delicious bite.

Over the years, I’ve eaten in some of the finest restaurants in the country, and I often order a baked potato with my meal. But I’ve never had one that tasted as good as those I ate as a child, while a cold October wind blew a million leaves through the air.