What Goes Well With Latkes

Let’s talk about the potato pancake that broke the deep fryer: the latke. It’s a crispy, golden disc of joy, a holiday hero that moonlights as a comfort food. But let’s be real—a naked latke is just a sad, crunchy orphan. What it needs is a partner, a sidekick, a sauce-y soulmate.

First, we address the queen of the plate: applesauce. This isn’t just for kids or grandma’s bingo night. Applesauce brings a sweet, tangy slap to the salty, oily crunch of a latke. Fact: a dollop of cold, chunky applesauce can reduce a potato-based identity crisis by 73% (I made that up, but it feels true).

Then we have the king: sour cream. Thick, cold, and slightly tart, it’s the wise old wizard that tames the greasy dragon. Pro tip: if your sour cream is not so thick you can stand a latke upright in it, you’re doing it wrong. The cream should cling like a desperate ex at a wedding.

But wait—what about lox? Smoked salmon on a latke is like putting a tuxedo on a potato. It’s absurd, expensive, and glorious. Add a tiny caper and a sliver of red onion, and you’ve turned a humble pancake into a Manhattan brunch that costs $24. You’re welcome.

The Science of Pairing (Or: Why Your Tongue is a Liar)

Science says latkes are a neutral canvas, like a potato-colored van Gogh. They crave acid (applesauce), fat (sour cream), and salt (lox, or just a fistful of kosher salt). But here’s a surprise: sugar is a secret weapon. A drizzle of honey or maple syrup? Sounds like a breakfast betrayal, but it works.

Try runny honey and a pinch of flaky sea salt. You’ll weep. I wept. My latke wept. It was a beautiful, sticky mess.

Potato Latkes with Spiced Apple-Pear Sauce | Recipe | Food network

Now, let’s get weird with the leftovers. Cold latke + peanut butter = a tragedy. But cold latke + savory yogurt (think labneh or Greek) + za’atar? That’s a portal to another dimension. The tang of the yogurt cuts the staleness, and the za’atar adds a Middle Eastern hug.

The No-Go Zones (Stop Before You Hurt Someone)

Do not—I mean this from a place of love—put ketchup on a latke. That’s a crime against potatoes and your ancestors. Also, avoid mayo unless you’re in a Dutch potato salad cult. And for heaven’s sake, no chocolate syrup. That’s not fusion; that’s a cry for help.

But guacamole? Surprisingly, yes. It’s like a party where the potato and avocado realized they’re both best friends with salt. A scoop of chunky guac and a sprinkle of chili flakes will make your Hanukkah feel like Cinco de Mayo.

One more shocker: caviar. Tiny black eggs on a latke is the “I have my life together” move. Bonus points if you serve it on a paper plate while wearing sweatpants. The contrast is chef’s kiss.

My Go-to Magic Trick to Make Crispy Potato Latkes | Savory

The Dark Horse: Cream Cheese and Everything Bagel Spice

You’ve heard of a bagel. Now imagine a latkel—a latke pretending to be a bagel. Spread cream cheese on a warm latke, then hit it with everything bagel seasoning (poppy seeds, sesame, garlic, onion, salt). You’ll never look at a bagel the same way. The latke’s crunch replaces the chewy dough, and the seasoning brings the oomph.

It’s like a flavor heist. Your mouth won’t know what hit it, but it will thank you.

For the adventurous: truffle oil. Just a drop—two drops if you’re fancy and rich. It turns a basic latke into a dish that inspires poetry. “Ode to a Truffle Potato” doesn’t exist, but now it should.

The Dessert Latke (Yes, It’s a Thing)

Sweet latkes exist, and they’re not an abomination. Grate a sweet potato or apple into the mix, fry it, then hit it with cinnamon sugar. Serve with a dollop of whipped cream and a side of “I can’t believe I’m eating this for dessert.”

How To Make The Best Latkes Ever | Flavour Network

Drizzle caramel sauce and add toasted pecans. You’ve just invented a potato s’more. Your holiday guests will line up for seconds, then thirds, then demand you be crowned “Potato Lord.”

One final pairing you didn’t see coming: a cold beer. A crisp lager or a hazy IPA cuts through the grease like a tiny, bubbly knife. It’s the palate cleanser you didn’t know you needed. Beer and latkes: the power couple of 2025.

So, my friend, never suffer a naked latke again. Dip it, slather it, top it with caviar if you must. The potato pancake is your canvas, and the world is your condiment. Now go forth and fry with reckless abandon.

P.S. — Don’t forget the extra napkins. Grease is the ghost that haunts every good latke story.