Eggs aplenty

After the excitement of our first - albeit cracked - egg, three out of four of the chickens have been earning their keep. We're still not sure who's holding out, but most mornings, when we go out to the run to feed and water them, there are three eggs waiting in the nesting box. They're small - I'm using two instead of one at the moment - but perfectly formed and, I didn't expect this, have an incredible flavour. It must be all the Ballyvoddy slugs that the girls pick up on their wanders around the garden.
Mornings working from home are enlivened by frequent checks on the foursome as they free-range around our half-acre. We live alongside a busy road so would like to keep them towards the back of the property. That's not what they think as they make their way towards the front of the house where the best of slugs seem to live, judging by their determination to make it there. I've taken to moving the computer to an outside table so that I can keep an eye on them (and on the cat, watching carefully as they scratch about), until they get too naughty and I have to herd them down the length of the garden towards their home. They like to take the scenic route, through some of the less-mowed parts of the garden, and our travels are enlivened by my swearing as they lead me through yet another patch of hidden nettle stalks and my bare ankles suffer.
With a half-dozen eggs arriving in the kitchen every two days, I'm turning to my recipe books for more ideas and Michel Roux's Eggs has already proven itself invaluable. My small cast-iron pan is getting used for regular omelettes and a couple of eggs poached on a bed of spicy lentils was very successful. I'm looking forward to making mayonnaise this week and we've also baked a couple with blue cheese in the heart-shaped ramekins we got from the Sculptor last June. I remember my Nana making Lemon Curd when there were lots of eggs to spare so I'll have to dig out her recipe. Then, with whites left over, there'll have to be a Pavlova some day for tea. Who would have thought that having hens would be so much fun?!
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!
On Saturday – two weeks after our (supposedly) point-of-lay pullets
I’m not much of a fruitcake fan but
With such fantastic
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.
It was only a matter of time before Kieran Murphy's entertaining
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.
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
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