Bibliocook: All About Food

Our half-acre plot is surrounded by mature trees, including several elders that are currently blossoming in a profusion of heady-smelling, cream-coloured flowerheads. Rather than just admiring them this year and thinking - afterwards, of course - that I should have made elderflower cordial, last weekend I dug out my recipe, buckets and ingredients, made a special trip to the chemist for citric acid, picked a selection of the flowers and had it made in minutes. The recipe I used comes via my mother, who noticed one of her students drinking a bottle of elderflower cordial last summer and got her mum's recipe for me. Ever since then it's been sitting on the kitchen mantelpiece, just waiting for some elderflowers - and a little motivation!

There were tastings along the way, random teaspoonfuls here and there, as I tried to gauge the strength of the brew. I eventually strained and bottled the results after three days-worth of steeping. According to the recipe, this keeps well in the fridge for a couple of weeks or, if you don't think that you will use it up in that time, just freeze it in ice cubes, ready to be landed into a jug of water on a hot day. It's the scent of summer in a glass even if - as today - the rain is driving down.

Continue reading "Food for Free - Elderflower Cordial" »

If you've been a fan of Deborah's Humble Housewife blog - she's now blogging at taste.ie - check out her new venture at the beautifully designed Spicendipity, which sells a selection of spice mixes, sauces and baking mixes, alongside some gorgeous gift baskets. Press release below...

Continue reading "Spicendipity goes live" »

On Saturday – two weeks after our (supposedly) point-of-lay pullets arrived – there was great excitement when the Husband discovered a little egg, still warm, on the bottom of the hen house. Unfortunately, by the time he found it, it was already cracked, proving that our chickens still haven't got the hang of things. The chicken that laid the egg managed to do it from her perch, rather than the nice cosy nesting box. Still, the cat was delighted to get an egg for her tea and hopefully it won't take too much longer for the rest of the girls to follow her example.

When you take the cost of the hen house and run into consideration, this is, as the Financially-Orientated Brother pointed out, the most expensive egg ever in the history of egg-laying. When the chickens get the hang of the egg-producing life, we are hoping that the average cost of each egg will come down quite a bit.

I’m not much of a fruitcake fan but Tea Brack is an altogether different story. Because the fruit is soaked overnight it avoids the dryness that can often spoil a fruitcake, cuts into gorgeous thick slices and responds particularly well to being generously buttered and served with large pots of tea. The English Engineers, this time without Bridie, came to visit for the weekend so - as I had recently discovered that I had a stash of dried fruit, particularly golden raisins - I brewed up some tea on Thursday night, left the fruit to soak in quite a leisurely manner until Friday lunchtime, when I discovered that I needed to be in Cork at 6pm. The brack was promptly thrown together in a most hasty manner so that it would be cooked before I had to leave the house.

Despite the hurry, it worked out well. I made double the mixture - two large 2lb loaves - and, the Engineers now on the plane home, there is just one half of the last brack left. I had intended to use a drop of whiskey to intensify the flavours but my search in our cellar (the unfinished gap under the stairs where we land all bottles of alcohol) showed that the Husband had imbibed the last of the Jameson during the last cold spell so I had to settle instead for the Ballyvoddy Damson Gin that I made last October, which added an extra note of fruityness to proceedings.

Continue reading "Ballyvoddy Tea Brack" »

With such fantastic air-dried beef, there's little need to gild the lily.

Continue reading "A simple salad" »

Craft butcher Jack McCarthy is a passionate man. Make a visit to his shop in the middle of the main street in Kanturk and be prepared to learn all about his wide range of award-winning meat products. On a quick visit to the town to meet up with the Editor earlier today, I called in to pick up some of my favourite North Cork pancetta. We were only in the door two minutes when Jack had us as a willing audience to taste his intensely savoury air-dried beef. Sliced thinly like Italian Bresaola, it melts in the mouth with a silky texture similar to the finest smoked salmon, leaving a lingering flavour of the spices used in the cure. This innovative craft butcher is like a shark, never standing still – for Jack there's always something to learn or try, a new product to work on, an old one to improve.

A wide variety of sausages were just asking to meet a barbeque: I picked up some of the ones that he makes with local Ardrahan cheese for the next sunny evening at home but could easily have bought twice as much again, so intrigued I was with the flavours on offer. The shop is festooned with awards, including the 2005 Gold Great Taste Award for Jack's spiced dry-cured back rashers, which come vacuum-packed in a striking gold foil packet with his trademark bay leaf. The same product also took the prize for Best Irish Speciality Product that year.

As I drove home, I started planning tomorrow night's dinner. If I can track down some Gabriel cheese, I'll make a spiky salad from the garden (the rocket and mustard are flourishing particularly well), dressed simply with lemon juice and decent olive oil, topped with the jewel-coloured slices of air-dried beef and some shavings of the cheese. But there's also rashers to try, the sausages to barbeque and the pancetta to toss with pasta or make into a superlative BLT. Thankfully Kanturk isn't too far away.

Jack McCarthy Meats, Main Street, Kanturk, Co Cork.
Tel: + 353 29 50178
Web: www.jackmccarthy.ie - Speciality hampers are available to order for delivery in Ireland.
Read Anne Kennedy's impassioned feature on Jack McCarthy at Greatfood.ie.
Watch Jack McCarthy on Nationwide.

You may have noticed some random design issues around here recently, as well as messed-up links, comments not working and the like. I'm still trying to figure out my MT upgrade and, of course, my computer hard disc managed to flatline in the middle of all of this. At the moment I'm lucky to be online at all and am working with a disabled hard disk in a parallel Linux world. Some time soon, I hope, services will return to normal.

My Nana always kept hens. As a child, I spent a lot of time at her house - just the other side of the hill from where we now live - and hens were an ever-present, taken-for-granted part of growing up. Previously my Nana, a trained and skilled poultrywoman, had kept flocks of hens for breeding; by the time I came along she just supplied Dwanes, one of the local shops, with fresh eggs for sale at the counter. But there were still jobs for the grandchildren to do. One of the dreaded chores was that of collecting the eggs. Slowly, slowly, slowly, the straw-lined wicker egg basket banging against my Wellington-clad bare legs, I would go through the gate in the far corner of the yard, wander past the haggart with all its fascinating bits of rusty farm machinery, turn right on to the lane the cows ambled along twice a day for milking and, keeping close to the less muddy inside side, come to the old wooden hen house. After taking a deep breath of clean air, I would twist the old bolt across, opening the door into the musty fug of the hens' world and prepare myself for the egg search.

These were very much free-range eggs; the hens spent their days roaming through the nearby grove and surrounding farmyards. Very few of the outdoor escapades of my cousins and I didn't involve encountering some squawking hen in an unlikely place. But there were always a few indoors and they looked very imposing indeed, especially to a little girl who wasn't too much bigger than the basket that she carried. Most of the nesting boxes that lined the hen house were empty that time of the day but there were always a few hens in place to put the heart crossways in you as you pulled back the disintegrating curtains that gave the layers some privacy. Unlike my Mother and aunts, I could never bring myself to root under a hen for eggs, always too afraid that that shar-looking beak would seek to defend its owner from the unwarranted intrusion. I wonder how many eggs I left behind in those days?

On Saturday the Husband picked up four Rhode Island Red, point-of-lay pullets from a hen lady near Kanturk to populate our sturdy and stylish new hen house and run from Fingerprint Wood Products. The crooning and clucking from the girls as they figure out their new surroundings has unlocked a stream of long-forgotten memories. Every time we go into the garden there has to be time spent observing the new arrivals and marvelling at their antics. Even though we are keeping them confined at the moment, they have already managed - even at a remove - to terrorise the local tom cat who was paying visits to our own cat. The cat herself normally follows us around the garden as we work outside; her movements are now more confined as she tries to avoid being seen and commented on by the hens. Last night the Husband and I spent half-an-hour in and out of the run, trying to find a bowl or bucket that our ever-so-slightly dense foursome would recognise as a water receptacle. They walked around - almost into - the various water containers for quite a while but not once while we were there did they actually see what was in them. Figuring that they wouldn't expire from thirst overnight, we eventually left them to it. I think that my Nana would have been very entertained.

It was only a matter of time before Kieran Murphy's entertaining Ice Cream Ireland made it to the printed page. The Book of Sweet Things, written by Kieran and his brother/business partner Seán, tells the story of how two Americans got into the ice cream business in Dingle a few years ago. Now Murphys' Ice Cream is sold from two shops - one in Dingle and the other in Killarney - and their distinctive blue and white containers are stocked in delis and foodstores throughout Ireland. I got my first taste of their wares by picking up a tub of vanilla (or fanaile) in Morton's of Ranelagh; now, fortunately, I'm never too far from a freezer-full of varieties at work in Urru.

The history of Murphys' Ice Cream - from meetings in Paris to work out a business plan, painting the first shop, expanding to Killarney and setting off nervously to Dublin, trying to break into the luxury ice cream market - would give any budding entrepreneur hope but the proof of this book is truly in the pudding. Recipes are divided into categories covering basic ice creams, Irish and international influences, sorbets and sauces, ice cream deserts, candy and baking and topped off with a section on coffee and hot chocolate. Tales of Kerry cows, ice cream innovations and decent coffees sit side-by-side with snippets of history, kitchen tips and Seán's Favourite Pairings (think warm brownie with Irish Cream Liqueur Ice Cream and hot chocolate sauce or even Toffee Ice Cream and Pecan Pie). The importance of using first class ingredients - quality chocolate, in-season soft fruits, free range eggs - is rightly emphasised and there are plenty of useful notes at the bottom of the recipes to keep you on track.

The traditional (Vanilla, Chocolate, Mint, Brown Bread Ice Creams) sit happily alongside the more intriguing varieties. Who could resist trying Honey Lavender, Cinnamon Latte or Chocolate Whiskey Ice Creams? What about Mulled Wine Sorbet or Gelato alla Crema? All yours for the making - if you have an ice cream machine. If you don't (and believe me, you will want one after spending time with this book), try wandering into the baking section. Toffee, Honeycomb Candy and Sachertorte are just some of the treats on offer or, if you're into ice cream toppings, recipes for Caramel Sauce and Hot Fudge Sauce will give you something to think about next time you pick up a tub of Murphys' Ice Cream. As for me, I've heard that you can get an ice cream attachment for the KitchenAid...

The Book of Sweet Things by Seán and Kieran Murphy is published by Mercier Press.

Just got an email from Cactus TV (home of Saturday Kitchen and Richard and Judy) looking for people who are interested in learning how to bake and who would like to participate in a new cookery series. It all kicks off in June so they need volunteers in the Cork area ASAP. More info below.

- Do you love cooking but find the art of baking a bit of a mystery?

- Does your bread fail to rise?

- Do your cakes go soggy?

- Maybe you loved baking as a child but have since lost the skill?

Cactus TV are looking for people to learn to bake as part of a new cookery series – so if you’d like to pick up some top tips from a TV chef, are aged between 20-40, are available at weekends in June, and live in or around Cork, then email us with a photo ASAP at bake@cactustv.co.uk telling us your name, address, age, and why you’d love to be part of our baking school.

Working Saturdays means that any weekend entertaining needs to be planned and organised well in advance, especially when it comes to Saturday night barbeques at the cottage. The Naas Cousin was coming to stay so I grabbed the opportunity to get a few of the cousins together. There wasn't anything complex on offer: free-range chicken drumsticks marinaded for a little while in my thrown together barbeque sauce (mix enough tomato ketchup, wholegrain mustard, cider vinegar, soy sauce and seasonings to coat the chicken. Allow to stand. Throw on barbeque.), some decent meaty sausages, homemade mini-beef burgers and an assortment of roasted vegetables (red and yellow peppers, spring onions, large mushrooms with garlic butter and lemon, sweetcorn with smoked garlic salt). The Husband normally does the cooking outside while I look after the prep in the kitchen as there are always a couple of salads to assemble. This time it was a Pasta and Flageolet Bean Salad with Sundried Tomato Dressing alongside a Green Salad with Blue Cheese, Nectarines and Savoury Seeds, dressed with Sweet Blackberry Vinaigrette.

The Naas Cousin arrived well armed with hummus, vine leaves and wine to kick off the evening and, inspired by my perusal of Piri Piri Starfish, I had made Tessa Kiros' Caramel Cake a few days beforehand for an easy pudding. The Little Sister came armed with pineapples for dusting with vanilla sugar and caramelising over a dying barbeque to accompany the damp, dense cake. To go totally for a sweet overdose, we served the cake and caramelised pineapple with caramel sauce (from Murphy's Book of Sweet Things) and - at this stage I had run out of cream! - dollops of natural yoghurt. The post-barbeque sweet feast was further enlivened by another contribution from the Little Sister - Vodka Chilli Chocolates from Green and Black's cookbook. She didn't tell us that she hadn't gotten around to deseeding all the chillis until a bit later...

When making the Caramel Cake, I didn't have any cream in the house - again! - so I give you my less rich version of Tessa's recipe, which uses extra milk instead of the cream. This keeps exceptionally well but make sure you don't pull the caramel off the heat too soon. If it has been cooked until it is a lovely dark chestnut colour then it will have notes of bitterness to offset the sweetness all around.

Continue reading "Make-ahead Caramel Cake for Saturday barbeques" »

Could Portugal be the new Spain? Reading Tessa Kiros' Piri Piri Starfish and its references to petisco (tapas, Portuguese-style), chourico (substitute chorizo), port instead of sherry and salt cod (in Portugal - bacalhau, in Spain - bacalao) you could be forgiven for wondering if things are moving that direction. This, the follow up to Kiros' acclaimed parent-and-child-orientated Apples for Jam, is a more straightforward cookbook. As with Apples..., colour is very important, although the chapters are laid out in a more clear-cut way - Essential Recipes, Petisco Plates, Starters and Soups, Mains and Side Plates, Deserts and Cakes - than that book's rainbow bright colour-coded sections. Here the tone is more grown up, with lots of muted blues and greys, beautifully designed page titles and a thick white and blue ribbon for marking your way through the book.

For Piri Piri…, Kiros and her family lived in and travelled around Portugal and the book is written in the form of a travel diary, entries dated as she writes of her impressions of that country - the place and the people - as well as about the food that she encounters there: Maria Alice's Chorico Cake from Chaves in the North of Portugal; a one-pot recipe for Caldeirada a Portuguesa (Portuguese Fish Stew) from Albertina in Lisbon; Passionfruit Crème Caramel inspired by the dishes eaten in San Miguel in the Azores. Photographs of food sit alongside tourist-style images of children playing on the streets, a Portuguese girl looking down from her washing-laden window, men's hats in a shop window.

The recipes are typically Kiros, typically inviting - my list of things to try includes Peas with Eggs and Chorico, Caramel Cake, Roasted New Potatoes with Tomatoes and Red Wine and Pan Fried Fish with Vinegar. Green Peppers, port, piri piri peppers and salt cod are reoccurring ingredients - some of them a little difficult to source from North Cork but I'll know what to go looking for when - rather than if - I visit Portugal.

Also reviewed on Bibliocook: Apples for Jam by Tessa Kiros
An interview with Tessa Kiros on Who Wants Seconds?

Although we had at least a week of summertime flip-flop days, May seems to have regressed to the cold and damp of early April. Weather like this - today it rained for the afternoon and just didn't stop - means a return to cold weather soup recipes, warming comfort food for wintery-feeling evenings. This lentil soup recipe - for I believe that you can never have too many lentil recipes in your repertoire - is from Domini Kemp, of Itsabagel fame (all time favourite bagel? Definitely a Mountaineer), and was published in one of her Irish Times pieces a few weeks ago. I made it that very week and we loved it but then finer weather (and PSB) came on the scene so I put away my soup recipes - but not for too long, as it turned out.

The recipe below uses about half the quantities in Domini's original but it is still enough to feed about eight to ten people or stock up the freezer with lunch portions and quick after work suppers. It's particularly good eaten with hot buttered toast, while watching the rain stream down the windows, although hopefully we won't have too many more of those days.

Continue reading "Rainy days and revisited recipes" »

The perfect birthday? Take a day off work - this is always nicest if done midweek! - and book a night away in Gort-Na-Nain, a vegetarian guesthouse near Nohoval outside Cork city, run by the welcoming Lucy Stewart and Ultan Walsh, vegetable growers and suppliers of vegetables to Café Paradiso, amongst other Cork restaurants. Drive there after work the day before your birthday, picking up the Husband en route, and arrive just in time for your pre-booked three-course dinner. Relax and savour Lucy's fabulous cooking, using fresh-picked vegetables and fruit grown by Ultan, with the other (very entertaining) couple that happen to be staying there that night. Take a long walk to see the sea before tucking yourself into a large, comfortable bed in an bright and spacious room.

Rise early on a sun-drenched morning for cards and presents before wandering downstairs for a lavish breakfast of just picked strawberries, homemade muesli, brown bread, muffins, pots of coffee and, the piece de resistance, homemade chestnut sausages with fried potatoes, egg and spicy chutney. Persuade Ultan to show you around his polytunnels - giving the Husband notions - and admire his neat asparagus beds, the newly-planted apple orchard, rows of salad greens, aubergines, beans, artichokes, tomatillos, peppers and several varieties of tomato plants. Before you leave, check out the chicken run - there are plans afoot to populate the back of the cottage land with a couple of chickens once we actually get round to organising accommodation - and leave, knowing that this visit won't be a one-off.

Proceed on to Kinsale and, after a walk to stimulate appetite, take yourself for a long-anticipated lunch at Fishy Fishy. Despite the Sister's warnings ("Arrive early and be prepared to queue or arrive late and be prepared to queue"), we were whisked to a table immediately (always good to be doing these things midweek) and start to study the menu. We chose a chilli-spiked seafood salad and fish pie, added a couple of glasses of white wine and sat back to observe Kinsale, and our fellow diners, in the sunshine. Orders of clams and mussels arriving at neighbouring tables had me thinking that I should have gone for a different lunch but, when it arrived, there was no disappointment and no leftovers. Finish off with a decent brownie, served with ice cream and too-cold chocolate sauce and some good coffees then proceed directly to Charles Fort for afternoon reading and snoozing in the sun.

En route home, call into the Teacher's house for a cup of tea and to plan this summer's holidays (we're driving to and camping in France with the Teacher and the Tax Advisor) before making it back, eventually, to the cottage for supper in the sun. A perfect birthday? Without a doubt!

One of the things I love about living in an old cottage is the excuse to furnish it in alternative ways. When I lived in New Zealand, I was an habitué of the op shops (charity shops) in Christchurch, always picking up old cake tins or nutcrackers, battered but usable cutlery, my old dining table and an odd assortment of small stools, used about the house as bedside tables, wee seats and useful steps. Space being limited in Ireland, I've avoided my worst NZ excesses, much to the Husband's relief: there was once Words by the side of the street when one of my op shop chairs didn't fit into the car. One thing I do watch out for, however, is old china. No trip to New Zealand is complete without a few items being secreted in the luggage for the journey home; last time I even managed to fit a collection of old fashioned spoons (to match the bone-handled knives and forks that I had picked up at the Bantry market last summer).

As time goes on, my modern matched crockery and cutlery keep getting pushed further and further back in the press, as I use and re-use my favourite supper plates and particular forks. The dishes that would once been used as shallow soup plates make perfect pasta bowls and an assortment of mismatched side plates and saucers work to serve up deserts or sweet treats to have with tea. The photo is of the remaining pieces of a once-numerous set from Arklow Irish Pottery that I picked up recently. With rims of pale daffodil yellow, painted with twisted curlicues of gold, it is the perfect delft to use when eating early summer meals: platefuls and platefuls of steamed and dressed PSB (Purple Sprouting Broccoli - yes, it did turn both P and S, eventually), millet and bulgar salads with roasted vegetables, roasted buckwheat tossed with flageolet beans in a chilli citrus dressing. Everything seems to taste much better when eaten off the perfect plate - especially if that's done outside in the sunshine.

Working on a site upgrade at the moment - please bear with me while I wander around the back end of things and figure out what goes where.

There was great excitement in Urru, Mallow on Wednesday when the first of the Irish-grown strawberries arrived from Rosscarbery amidst glorious sunshine. We stacked boxes of ruddy fruit on the shelves of the fridge, inhaling their fragrance all the while, until it was decided that we needed to open one - just for quality testing, of course. That punnet wasn't long in being devoured, and - before they all disappeared with customers - I grabbed one for myself, to sit in the evening sunshine and eat, all tumbled on great scoops of Murphy's Vanilla Ice Cream. The first real taste of summer.

Just heard from a reader that the café at The Glebe Gardens in Baltimore is well worth a visit. Liz writes:

"Just wanted to let you know of a café I happened upon last weekend. It is the Glebe Café, in Baltimore, West Cork, and it is one to rave about. The produce comes straight from their garden on to the plate and it is just spectacular. The website is www.glebegardens.com. I think they are only open at weekends right now but I think they start a weekly thing in the summer. I had Organic Beef Stew....yummy simple great food, it just excited me so much that I had to tell someone."

Last June, while the new Husband and I were honeymooning in West Cork (along with eight of his family, six English Engineers and an Irish terrier called Bridie) we visited the Glebe Gardens and loved it. Unfortunately the café wasn't opened while we were there - although the Husband did meet the owner of the house and almost secured me a job while talking to him about me doing the course at Ballymaloe - but all the ingredients were present in the garden, just waiting to be used. Great to hear that it's doing well - I'll have to plan a trip back to the West this summer!