Iris and the Gratin That Needed No Cheese

Morning light catches the baking dish as Iris lifts it from the oven. The sliced potatoes have a freckled, golden top. There is no cheese in it, which feels like a detail worth interrogating with a spoon.

Tap. A small, promising resistance.

Iris breaks through at the edge. Underneath, thin layers yield in thickened cream; a little steam clouds the spoon. The surface has browned on its own, while the potatoes below stayed tender. Two different jobs, both done.

A taste, then a pause to let the hot mouthful stop being quite so educational.

For this gratin dauphinois, cheese would be an addition, not a repair. Iris leaves it in the fridge and serves a spoonful with its browned lid intact. Breakfast has passed its checks.