Crispy Potato Cups with Pulled Pork and Melted Cheddar

I stand in my kitchen, the warmth of the oven a familiar comfort, my hands dusted with kosher salt. Before me lie five Yukon Gold potatoes, each a humble canvas waiting for transformation. This isn't just about making a snack; it's a ritual of texture and taste, a journey from earthy solidity to airy crispness. The secret, I've learned, isn't just in the cooking but in the preparation—a series of small, deliberate acts that elevate the simple potato into something extraordinary. The goal is a vessel, a cup that is both structurally sound and delightfully fragile, capable of cradling rich, savory fillings without surrendering its own character.

The Foundation: Preparing the Perfect Vessel

The journey begins with a fork and a light coat of oil. I puncture each potato's skin, not out of malice, but to allow the steam within a graceful escape during its initial bake. A 375°F (190°C) oven is my chosen path today, though a microwave offers a quicker, if less poetic, alternative. As they roast for 30 to 45 minutes, the kitchen fills with a promise of earthy sweetness. The true magic, however, happens after they've cooled just enough to handle. I don't slice them lengthwise, as one might for traditional skins. Instead, I make a decisive cut across the equator. This creates smaller, deeper cups—perfect little wells designed specifically for scooping and filling. It’s a small detail with a profound impact on the final form.

With a small spoon, I perform the most satisfying part: scooping. I'm an archaeologist of the edible, carefully excavating the fluffy interior into a waiting bowl, leaving behind a deliberate, imperfect wall of potato about 1/8 to 1/4 inch thick. This unevenness isn't a flaw; it's a feature, a guarantee of wonderful textural contrasts in the final bite. For stability, I sometimes slice a tiny portion off the bottom of each cup, creating a flat base so they can stand proud like edible goblets.

The Alchemy of Crispness: Creating the Slurry

Here lies the heart of the recipe, the step that separates these from any other potato skin I've ever made. I look at the bowl of scooped potato flesh—it's too precious to waste. I add a splash of water and blend it, either with an immersion blender or in a countertop blender, until it forms a smooth, starchy paste. This slurry is the elixir of crispness. I lovingly coat each hollowed potato cup, inside and out, with this mixture. It feels like I'm armoring them, preparing them for the trial by fire that is the deep fryer.

• The First Fry: The oil, heated to a precise 375°F (190°C) in my Dutch oven, shimmers with potential. I lower the slurry-coated cups in batches, using my wire mesh spider to gently agitate them. They sizzle immediately, and in just about a minute, they transform. The slurry sets into a delicate, pale golden shell. I lift them out, invert them concave-side down on paper towels to drain completely. This first fry is not for eating; it's a preparation, a setting of the stage. The cups can now be rested, even refrigerated overnight or frozen for up to two months, their potential locked in until I'm ready for the final act.

The Finale: Filling and the Second Fry

When the moment to serve arrives, the final transformation is swift and glorious. I fill each pre-fried cup with a generous spoonful of tender, smoky pulled pork—whether it's my traditional barbecue, easy oven version, or sous vide creation. I top it all with a hearty sprinkle of grated cheddar cheese, the sharpness a perfect counterpoint to the rich pork.

• The Second Fry: Back into the hot oil they go. This time, for about three minutes, I watch as they achieve their ultimate destiny. The exterior becomes deeply, irresistibly golden brown and shatteringly crispy. The cheese melts into the pork, and the heat penetrates, warming the filling through while ensuring the potato wall within remains miraculously tender and moist. There is no leathery dryness here, only a perfect harmony of textures.

I lift them out, let them drain on fresh paper towels, and immediately season them all over with a final flourish of kosher salt. The contrast is everything: the audible crunch giving way to the soft, flavorful interior and the savory, molten filling. 🙌 They are the perfect delivery vehicle, a testament to how technique can turn the ordinary into the sublime. In my kitchen in 2025, this recipe remains a timeless celebration of texture, a dish where every step, from the initial puncture to the final sizzle, is a stanza in a delicious poem.