The new potatoes were roasted at a temperature higher than I usually choose, 425 degrees, which is really too hot unless you intervene in some way. This is did by adding just a ladleful of chicken stock with my usual olive oil and herb slick to the potatoes just before I popped them into the oven. Then I forgot about them, so they roasted longer than usual, steaming then caramelizing with the stock. They emerged as chocolate brown, perfectly roasted, tiny little things.
The dressing was a salad, really. In my garden, I had thinned out some shallots and a fennel stalk that was in the way, so I chopped them up together and tossed them with the potatoes, just out of the oven. Dressed with a bit of olive oil and tarragon vinegar, they were just the thing for this still-tentative spring.