Dill is summer in Poland. Fresh, young potatoes topped with dill make me think of all the Polish summers I experienced, but in particular, the first one, which was well underway eleven years ago today. It seemed during that first summer in Radom, during pre-service training, we had potatoes with dill every single day. And so the scent instantly brings back to mind the large, Stalinist Polish cafeteria where we ate.
Maybe that first summer was simply dill overload, because no matter how many pleasant memories I associate with the odor, I honestly don’t really like dill. It has such a fresh scent, and yet it so easily overpowers. Summer potatoes with dill taste, to me, almost exclusively of dill, no matter how sparingly it’s applied.