Did you know that millions of people in Italy eat Italian food every day? It’s true. So, I don’t find it odd or feel the need to justify in any way the fact that Bill and I have found ourselves partaking of the pasta several times over the last few weeks. This is completely normal. It is to be encouraged. In fact, you should do it.

Here’s how.

Terra Madre

Terra Madre is a new Italian restaurant down some stairs on Bachelor’s Walk on the quays. I don’t know exactly how new it is, but it’s new enough that I learned about it on Twitter. Terra Madre is tiny. I counted seven tables. I saw several parties turned away on the recent Saturday while enjoying an early dinner. The menu at Terra Madre is small, with just a few starters, slightly larger specialty plates and mains. Two wines. Two desserts. A tiny restaurant with a small menu has to be selective and committed. No faffing about.

Our starters were simple dishes which highlighted the main ingredient: Crostini with lardo, and bresaola (dried beef) wrapped around Parmesan and celery served on a bed of rocket. Stuff you could make at home. If you were lucky enough to have lardo and bresaola.

For mains I got the pasta with wild boar ragu, and Bill got pasta with a rabbit sauce. (Fact: Bill will almost always choose the rabbit dish when one is on the menu.) The rabbit pasta in particular was delish with a nice spice. I imagine you could be served either of these dishes in an Italian kitchen and be very happy and feel that you are truly part of a family. Add in an apple tart and a cake made with amaretti biscuits (that had the interesting texture of Mexican flan), a bottle of red wine and two espressos and you’ll be nicely fed. All for €70.00.

Pasta with Wild Boar ragu

I had to call upon the twitterverse for Terra Madre’s phone number, so I’ll save you a few clicks: 01-8735300.

Terra Madre, down the stairs on Bachelor's Walk

Dunne and Crescenzi

On the other end of the spectrum, Dunne and Crescenzi has been open in Dublin for over a decade, has perhaps seven times seven tables and the menu spans several pages. It definitely isn’t a Twitter secret as it was buzzing when we stopped by for lunch yesterday. Even though the menu is large, it seems grounded. We chose an antipasti of roasted aubergine, olives, artichoke hearts, tomato/garlic salad, marinated mushrooms and Tuscan beans. Lots of great flavors to wake up the taste buds. And I adore borlotti and cannellini beans!

Antipasti plate

Bill chose a special–orecchiette with broccoli cream sauce and sausage , and I had linguini with walnut pesto, anchovies and pecorino. The orecchiette was very broccoli-forward with a succulent fresh sausage. The nuts and anchovies in the linguini provided that savory kick that kept me coming back bite after bite. Both pasta dishes were rich tasting but not overwhelming. Comfort food for a cold day.

With two glasses of house red and two espressos (very reasonable for Dublin at €1.50 each), our bill was around €50.00.

I expect to return to this Dublin institution, if only to try out the Mozzarella bar.

Cafe Tiesan

Cafe Tiesan is very near my office, and is one of my favorite lunch spots. Tiesan isn’t wholly Italian, but it does have Italian leanings, and has recently started serving lasagne made with homemade noodles on Thursdays. The fresh noodles make a tender lasagne, and I liked the less tomatoey version of this beloved dish. Other dishes I can recommend at Tiesan are as follows:  aubergine sandwich, lentil burger, eggs Florentine, Irish breakfast, and ham and cheese omelette (fantastic!). Yes, that’s everything I’ve ever tried there. In the sunnier months they serve an evening apperitivo menu with a terrific cured meat platter and bruschetta.

Coffee ToGetHer

Have you heard that popping into the George Bernard Shaw during the day when the Coffee ToGetHer cafe is open is like stepping into Italy? Well, it’s true. The Italian staff is lively, serving up panini and lamb skewers and delicious coffee. And cannoli available for impulse purchase at the till.

Pistachio cannoli: a perfect afternoon treat

Carluccio’s

Carluccio’s on Dawson Street has been our Go To dinner spot for many years. It may be a chain, but it’s a chain started by an Italian dude named Antonio, and their caponata is one of my absolutely favorite things. They always have something we need to buy in the shop as well.

 

Potato dauphinoise (a.k.a scalloped potatoes, au gratin potatoes) is a perfect cold-rainy-weather, i.e. Irish-weather, dish. Cream, garlic, spuds, an interior that stays mouth-searingly molten like the sun for ages–what’s not to love? Well, it’s not exactly January post-holiday detox food so I thought I’d make it a bit less guilt-ridden by using some sweet potato, too. Mature Gubbeen cheese is fantastic with potatoes of all kinds so a light sprinkling goes on top.

The sweet earthiness of the sweet potato helps to cut through all the richness of the cream and cheese. It also adds loads of vitamin A and other good stuff. Cooking the potato mixture a bit on the hob before baking cuts down on the total cooking time and also helps it to cook more evenly. We had this as a main with a side of simply-cooked green lentils (River Cottage Veg Everyday, pp. 237) and a baby spinach and rocket salad.

Sweet Potato Dauphinoise

Inspired by River Cottage Veg Everyday
Serves 4 as a main

Per serving: 418 Calories, 19g fat, 6.9g fiber, 13.2g protein

30g of butter
500g floury potato
500g sweet potato
400ml cream
2 large cloves of garlic, smashed
a few sprigs of thyme, leaves only
1 bay leaf
1/4 tsp freshly-grated nutmeg
salt and pepper
100g mature Gubbeen cheese, grated

Preheat the oven to 180C/350F/Gas Mark 4.

Rub an 8x8x2″ square baking dish liberally with the butter. Peel and very thinly slice the potatoes and sweet potatoes. To a large saucepan add the potatoes, cream, garlic, thyme, bay leaf and nutmeg. Place on medium heat and bring to a simmer. Cook for about five minutes or until the cream starts to thicken. Season with salt and pepper.

Pour the mixture into the baking dish and spread evenly. Bake in the oven for 45 minutes or until tender and lightly browned and bubbling. Top with grated cheese, increase heat to 200C/400F/Gas Mark 6 and bake for another 5-10 minutes to melt and brown the cheese. Let cool 5 minutes before serving.

Notes

  • For a more traditional dauphinoise leave out the sweet potatoes and use 1 kg of floury potatoes.
  • Substitute double cream or whole milk for the cream depending on your mood.
  • Use a different cheese. Glebe Brethan (or Gruyère or Comté ) would be great. So would a blue cheese like Cashel or Crozier.

Looking through all the pics from Christmas. So much good eating: a lovely ham cooked in Cidona a la Catherine Cleary (with Highbank Orchard Syrup), plates of Christmas cookies, spiced beef and spiced pies and spiced beer. But this is my favorite picture. I don’t even like most of the veg in this pan, but they look so lovely and simply perfect, putting on their Christmas best.

This year the Irish Food Bloggers Association organized a holiday cookie recipe exchange. Bill and I love baking Christmas cookies, so I eagerly signed up. I was paired in the recipe exchange with Evin from Evin’s Cooking Peas & Q’s. Turns out Evin is a fellow American, so knows a cookie from a biscuit. And her recipe uses US measurements which is handy enough for me.

Evin sent me a recipe for one of her friend’s cookie traditions. First thing you’ll notice about the recipe is that it contains potato chips. Then you might wonder who Gladys Lum Bower is.

These cookies go together very easily. This is a flexible recipe; I used twice as many pecans for the heck of it, and the cookies turned out great. I used golden caster sugar and Kettle Chips potato chips. I’m not sure we would have identified the potato chips if we didn’t already know they were there, but the chips do add an extra bit of crunch. These cookies have a nice crumble and taste of butter and pecans. They are similar to a pecan sandie, which is great because I like pecan sandies.

I don’t know who Gladys is, but she makes a fine cookie.

Gladys Lum Bowers’s Pecan Crunch Cookies
1 cup butter, softened (of course) [225 g]
1/2 cup sugar [100 g]
1 tsp vanilla [5 ml]
1/2 cup finely crushed plain potato chips [?? g]
1/2 cup chopped pecans [50 g]
2 cup flour [240 g]

1. Preheat oven to 350 F  [180°C/gas mark 4].
2. Cream butter, sugar and vanilla. Add potato chips and pecans.
3. Sift flour and mix in gradually.
4. Form into small balls and place on cookie sheets. Press balls slightly with the bottom of a glass dipped in sugar.
5. Bake 14 to 18 minutes (until lightly brown around the edges).



See Evin’s take on my recipe from the swap: Frosted Oatmeal Cookies.

Today Bill and I dined at Skinflint with some fellow food bloggers and had the opportunity to chat with its proprietor Joe Macken, and I’ll tell you, he charmed my culinary socks off.

Joe’s well known in Dublin eating circles as owner of beloved Jo’Burger and its sister droolstaurant Crackbird. He’s got memorable hair and has probably been described as “larger than life.” Dublin is lucky to have him. Because Dublin is lucky to have his food. I’ve been to Jo’Burger only once. It’s just not in my orbit, but I remember being quite happy with my burger, which doesn’t always happen in Dublin. We’ve visited Crackbird a number of times, and were very impressed, even when it was just a fleeting pop up.

I said then that “Crackbird is quirky, but it’s the kind of quirkiness that lives in service, ultimately, to the food (along with admittedly some self-knowing hipness)….“  And that’s what struck me when talking to Joe today. He’s mad creative and his persona is definitely present in his restaurants, but foremost Joe loves his food. And he makes other people love it too.

We started our lunch with Aperol cocktails, as you do, followed by a trio of bread and dips:  brandy chicken pate, beetroot caviar, and hummus. The pink peppercorns in the pate bring an aromatic note to the richness of the liver. The beetroot caviar was a lovely balance of sweet and savory, and is a gorgeous jewel red. The hummus was garlicky, which is how we like it!

Lovely refreshment

Then we ordered our pizzas. We ordered almost every pizza. There are 10 set pizzas on the menu, each named after the mother of a staff member. One of our party went for the daily meatballs, which today were lamb. (Check twitter for the daily meatball.) I ordered the Lil which is Boyne Valley blue, poached pear, sweet pickled onion and cream. Yeah. Bill chose the Tess with pulled pork, fennel seeds, braised fennel and marscapone. The table also saw some amazing combinations like roasted garlic confit, toasted hazelnuts, tomato, Fontina and spinach & butternut squash, rosemary, ricotta, capers and espelette.

My Lil with blue cheese and pear

The pizzas at Skinflint are grilled, which is a great method to create a thin crackery crust (reminded me of crust on a pizza we had Rome). Joe invited us in pairs into the compact kitchen to watch the lads prepare the crusts, which are made with 100% Odlums flour fermented for three days, then run through a cool machine from Italy that stretches out the dough, and coated with some semolina. Then the dough goes onto the grill and is dressed with its toppings, and after a minute or two is ready for serving. A quick enterprise which is good for hungry diners and kitchen throughput alike.

The Eithne with butternut squash and capers

I recommend going to Skinflint with six to eight friends so you can taste all the pizzas. It was hard to pick a favorite. I was almost overwhelmed by all the amazing flavors on our table. I’ll say braised fennel stands out as a genius pizza topping, and Bill was quite taken with the butternut squash and caper combo. My pizza was a perfect celebration of the love between pear and blue cheese, and Joe is proud to be using Boyne Valley blue which is a goats cheese blue. A stronger blue, but right at home on that pizza. I also liked the housemade Mexican chorizo, and roasted garlic is another brilliant pizza topping. Pizza is all about bringing flavors together to create greater-than-the-sum-of-its-parts-Super Flavor, and these pizzas are super. Especially drizzled with Skinflint’s Firebee honey infused with chile. Seriously, this honey should be given out to school children to teach them about the good things in life. No wait, perhaps it should be a reward for becoming an adult. Either way, it’s great.

Everything's better with spicy Boyne Honey

Skinflint and Crackbird are filling a much needed place in Dublin–casual, excellent food that has an identity. Joe is committed to making Irish food with Irish ingredients and he’s no where near stopping, and we couldn’t be happier.

And as always, great fun to dine with fellow bloggers Aoife from I Can Has Cook, Aoife from The Daily Spud, and Catherine from The Runcible Spoon, and we had some handsome partners along as well.

Bill and I were  thrilled to finally try A Winter’s Ale from 8 Degrees Brewing. This delicious, lightly spiced ale was perfect with our pizza.

Mucho thanks to Joe and staff for a terrific time.

This year we were home for Thanksgiving. Home in this instance was Bill’s childhood home in Huntsville, Alabama.

We typically have two must-eats when we’re in Huntsville: Pork BBQ from Gibson’s #2 and fried catfish and hush puppies at Greenbrier. We knew we didn’t have time for a trip to Greenbrier this visit, but Bill’s mom, Peggy, said she’d have Gibson’s BBQ waiting for us when we arrived Wednesday evening. When Bill’s brother Joel heard about the Gibson’s plan, he had a better idea. I’ll smoke a pork butt for them, he said. Only one problem. Joel lives three hours away in Montgomery and wouldn’t be driving to Huntsville until Thursday. So, Joel overnighted the pork on dry-ice to Peggy’s and indeed it was waiting for us when we arrived. And it was truly remarkable. Pork BBQ in Northern Alabama is typically eaten with a vinegar and cayenne pepper sauce alongside a vinegar slaw. Joel had included sauce in his package, and Bill’s other brother Danny had brought over a bowl of slaw, so Bill and I feasted! Sorry Gibson’s, but I’m dining at Gunter’s from now all. All those Gunter boys can cook!

Not only did Joel smoke the best pork BBQ I have eaten, he smoked our Thanksgiving turkey. He brined the turkey with apple juice, orange juice, nutmeg, ground cloves, peppercorns, brown sugar, and kosher salt and smoked it over fruit wood for a few hours, finishing it in the oven. The turkey was perfect–moist, flavorful with tasty skin. He also brought up some of his lovely homebrew, a summer ale with honey and a hint of orange. It was sunny and 74°F/23.3°C, which passes for a summer day in Ireland, so summer ale was not out of place.

The Meal (clockwise from top left): Sweet Potato casserole, turkey, ham, Brussels sprouts with pancetta, jalapeno corn casserole, cornbread dressing with gravy, jellied cranberry sauce, cherry fluff; not pictured: field peas, dessert

I haven’t traveled all the regions of the US eating Thanksgiving dinners, but I imagine two things identify our Thanksgiving meal as Southern: 1) more than one casserole and 2) cornbread dressing. First of all, we call it dressing. Academics may debate the difference between stuffing and dressing–some say stuffing is cooked inside the bird, dressing outside–but I think they are basically the same thing. Cornbread dressing is a fave from both of our childhood Thanksgivings. A few times Bill has experimented with different types of dressing and savory bread puddings, but we keep coming back to cornbread dressing.

Sweet potatoes are a Thanksgiving staple, and for years were topped with marshmallows, but somewhere along the way everyone discovered that you could top sweet potatoes with a butter, brown sugar and pecan crust, and it has been a standard for a couple decades. This particular incarnation was straight from Paula Deen in all of its buttery glory. The potatoes are baked to intensify the potato flavor. A souffle mixture with egg is topped with the sugar crust, and this stuff is good y’all!

As amazing as Joel’s turkey was, I really enjoyed several slices of ham. Smoked ham is rare in Ireland, and I just love it.

The Brussels sprouts were Bill’s contribution. In 1998 Bill made a Thanksgiving Menu from Food & Wine Magazine which included Brussels Sprouts pan roasted with shallots and pancetta. These sprouts instantly became a must-have Thanksgiving dish for us, and have made more than one Brussels Sprouts convert. As many times as Bill has made this dish (it’s not just for Thanksgiving!) these were some of his best. The shallots and sprouts were browned and nicely caramelized and silky with pancetta “flavor.”

Our beloved Brussels sprouts

The corn casserole was new this year. I didn’t get the recipe but it must be similar to this one that mixes corn, cream cheese and jalapenos together and bakes them. (See the full recipe.) Can’t really go wrong with that. A spicy dish is welcome amongst all the rich foods on the T-day table.

Of course we had jellied cranberry sauce. I’m a purist when it comes to that can-shaped condiment.

And Cherry Fluff.

How does one describe Cherry Fluff? Does sweetened condensed milk, a can of crushed pineapple, chopped pecans, cool whip and a can of cherry pie filling paint a picture? It’s sweet and tart and fluffy and completely frivolous. In other words, a fab holiday food.

We love Cherry Fluff.

Along with cornbread dressing and Cherry Fluff, Bill had specifically requested field peas, so Joel cooked up a mess of them with a ham hock. I’m not a huge fan of field peas, but Bill was thrilled.

We didn’t even think about dessert until many hours after dinner, but when we did we had a caramel pumpkin pie and apple cake to choose from, or of course eat both. They were both delish, but I wound up eating more of the apple cake. Makes a great breakfast.

Fresh Apple Cake

This is the recipe (more or less) as passed to Peggy by her friend Myrtle.

Fresh Apple Cake

For cake
4-5 cups diced apples, mixed varieties  (around a litre of apples)
2 cups sugar (400 g)
1/2 cup vegetable oil (240 ml)
1 cup chopped pecans (110 g)
2 eggs, well beaten
2 teaspoons vanilla (10 ml)
2 cups all purpose flour (240 g)
2 teaspoons baking soda (10 ml)
2 teaspoons cinnamon, or double if you like cinnamon (10-20 ml)
1 teaspoon salt (10 ml)
For glaze
1 cup brown sugar (170 g)
1 stick butter (110 g)
1/4 cup evaporated milk (60 ml)
  1. Heat oven to 350 degrees°F/180°C /gas mark 4.
  2. Mix apples and sugar thoroughly.
  3. Add oil, nuts, eggs and vanilla and stir.
  4. Mix dry ingredients together and add to apple mixture. Stir.
  5. Bake in a greased 13 x 9 inch pan for 1 hour. Remove from oven and leave cake in pan.
  1. For glaze, bring brown sugar, butter and evaporated milk to a hard boil for one minute.
  2. Pour immediately over cake.

And for your viewing pleasure, 50 seconds of Bill and me discussing Thanksgiving at this link http://www.rte.ie/tv/iwitness/. Look under the archives for the 24 November episode.

 

I love sweet potatoes. Baked, roasted as wedges, souffled and topped with pecan praline, simmered in a soup–it’s all good. And if you haven’t topped roast sweet potato wedges with chili, well, you haven’t lived. So when I saw this dead simple recipe for baked sweet potatoes with brown sugar and black pepper in the November 2011 issue of Saveur Magazine I knew I had to try it.

My first thought was to have them with a rocket salad for a light veggie dinner. But seeing as I had three packs of free-range boneless chicken breasts in the fridge (courtesy of a sale at Tesco–I’ll never see these again, I’m certain) I thought I should use a couple. I also had half a savoy cabbage and some lime-thyme compound butter leftover from Tuesday’s dinner so it was “clear out the fridge night.”

This technique for cooking boneless chicken breasts is pretty foolproof. They were tender and juicy with a good crust. The compound butter added just the right amount of fat and herby goodness. Buttered cabbage is also a favorite of mine and a tiny bit of chicken broth gives it savor.  Sweet potatoes topped with brown sugar and butter are intrinsically delicious, but the black pepper  adds intriguing spicy and aromatic flavors. Oh, and do all three components contain butter? Score.

Sautéed chicken breast with lime-thyme butter, butter-braised cabbage and roast sweet potato with brown sugar and black pepper

I’ve intentionally not included measurements so you can feel free to experiment and play with the recipes.

Sautéed Chicken Breasts

Boneless, skinless chicken breasts
Salt and pepper
Flour
Butter
Oil

Pour some flour onto a plate. About 1/4 cup is good for four breasts. Rinse the chicken breasts and pat dry thoroughly with paper towels. It’s important they be completely dry. Sprinkle both sides of each breast with salt and pepper. Be generous. Press both sides of each breast into the flour. You can leave each on the plate as you go or set it aside.

Heat some butter and oil in a skillet over medium-high heat. Swirl the butter in the skillet as it heats. After the foaming subsides shake the chicken breasts to rid them of the excess flour and lay them in the skillet, tenderloin side down.

Sauté the chicken until browned on one side, about four minutes. The fat should be sizzling but not burning. Turn with tongs and sauté another four to five minutes. The chicken should be firm to the touch and nicely browned. Remove to plates and top with slices of lime-thyme butter.

Notes

  • The flour is important here because it prevents the outside of the chicken from getting hard. It also helps with browning.
  • Use any oil you like: olive, rapeseed, vegetable, what-have-you.
  • Use all oil instead of butter, but the chicken won’t brown as well.
  • Instead of the thyme-lime butter, swirl the fat in the pan with these combinations and pour over the chicken
    • Capers, lemon juice and parsley
    • Chopped olives, lemon juice, thyme and chile flakes
    • Chopped tomatoes (fresh or sundried) and basil
    • Minced garlic, cilantro (fresh coriander) and lime juice

Lime-thyme Compound Butter

Unsalted butter, softened
Fresh thyme, minced
Lime
Salt

Microwave the butter in a bowl for 10-20 seconds to soften, if necessary. Don’t let it melt. Stir in the thyme, zest, a bit of juice and a pinch of salt. Spoon onto one end of some cling film. Lift the end of the cling film and use it to roll the butter into a log. Wrap the butter log in the film and refrigerate until firm.

Notes

  • You can top all manner of things with a compound butter: poached or sautéed fish, steaks, pork chops.
  • Instead of lime use lemon or orange
  • Instead of thyme use parsley, cilantro, dill or fennel fronds

Butter-braised Cabbage

Cabbage
Butter
Salt and pepper
Chicken stock

Cut the cabbage into quarters lengthwise and cut out the core. If the cabbage is large cut the quarters in half again. Cut crosswise into fine shreds. Rinse in a colander but don’t shake the water off.

Melt the butter in a sauté pan (a frying pan with straight sides) or dutch oven over medium heat. Add the cabbage and salt and pepper to taste, stir and cover. Cook until tender, about ten minutes, stirring occasionally and finish with a few spoons of chicken stock.

Notes

  • If you don’t have chicken stock handy use a bit of boullion powder and water. I love a product called Better Then Boullion but I don’t think it’s available in Europe. Marigold Boullion is a great vegetarian option.
  • Savoy cabbage is great but any will do. Green or white cabbage will take longer to cook and sweetheart or york cabbage will take less time.

Baked Sweet Potatoes with Brown Sugar and Black Pepper
(Inspired by Saveur Magazine)

Sweet potatoes (large ones)
Unsalted butter
Dark brown sugar
Fresh-ground black pepper
Kosher or flakes sea salt

Heat oven to 425F, 220C, gas mark 7. Place sweet potatoes on a foil-lined baking sheet and bake until soft, about 1 hour and 15 minutes. Remove potatoes from oven and allow to cool for 10 minutes. Split potatoes open and put a knob of butter and spoon of sugar into each potato. Season liberally (seriously, go nuts here, and I forbid you to use pre-ground) with black pepper. Finish with salt to taste.

Notes

  • Please, please use freshly-ground black pepper.

We were very happy when Sheridans Cheesemongers starting bringing a stall to our local market in St. Anne’s. We chatted to the monger frequently enough to learn his name, and then one day a new guy starting coming whom I call Tim, but is possibly named Tom, or even Sebastian. “Tim” is always handy with the samples and suggestions. One day he gave me a taste and asked what I thought. The cheese was little crumbly and bold flavored, but in the moment my mind emptied of all cheese varietals save one. “Is it cheddar?” I said, and as I spoke those words I felt any food cred fall away, and saw a small shadow darken Tim’s eyes. He was a gentlemonger of course, and kindly told me non-cheddar cheese’s name, but I can’t remember exactly what happened after that. I think I just bought some Haloumi and slinked away before I started declaring all the cheeses “Swiss” (which I probably did anyway. I can never say Emmental).

Before you go all Wisconsin on me, I know cheddar is a perfectly fine cheese with varying provenances and pedigrees, it’s just not the only cheese.

In October, Bill and I spent four Wednesday evenings nestled among fellow cheese lovers in Dax Cafe Bar, participating in a class presented by Elisabeth Ryan from Sheridans. Each week we learned about the different kinds of cheeses, and the factors that influence each cheese’s flavor. I had never realized that hard cheese is made in the summer when milk is more plentiful, and soft cheeses are from winter milk. Also, there is no such thing as one “room temperature” and you shouldn’t let your cheese sweat. And the “flavor crystals” Bill and I used to comment on are a real and desirable thing.

Most importantly, we ate cheese. We sampled some Big Hit cheeses from a variety of regions, including the luscious Epoisses from France, seductive Manchego from Spain, and bold Stilton from England, but we spent a lot of time talking about Irish Cheeses. If you haven’t already heard, Ireland is truly embracing its inner curds and whey.

Lovely

One evening Kevin Sheridan led us through a tasting of Irish Cheeses that had recently won medals at the Irish Cheese Awards. Kevin explained that Ireland’s cattle are predominately grass fed which differentiates Irish milk from other European countries. Ireland’s unique milk creates spectacular cheeses, because, as Kevin said, Cheese is Grass. Ireland also produces lots of goat’s milk cheese and several sheep’s milk varieties as well. Sheep’s milk cheese are more rare because sheep are low milk producers, but the fat content in the milk creates very creamy cheese.  Helen Finnegan’s Knockdrinna Meadow that won Gold Medal in the Cheese awards is just that, a creamy bite of meadow. Bill and I are also fans of Crozier Blue, which won the Sheep Silver. We like that it’s richer than the cow’s milk varieties. [I'm a huge fan of blue cheese though, from crumbly to oozing, from blushing blue to blue in the face. And how cool is it that the bacteria for Cabrales come from the walls of the cheese cave rather than being injected. Another tip from cheese class!]

Mmmm...grass.

 

Ireland’s fantastic milk and perfect cheesemaking climate–”Ireland is one big cheese cave” Kevin said–allow Irish cheesemakers to borrow traditional cheesemaking methods, but make cheese that uniquely Ireland’s own. On our third evening of cheese class, David Tiernan of Glebe Brethan, spoke to us of his journey from dairy farmer to dairy farmer who makes award winning Gruyere-type cheese. Making cheese allows David to benefit more directly from the care he puts into producing his milk, and he enjoys seeing the end consumer. He says he loves the moment when a customer has picked up a bite and walked away, only to stop and turn around when the taste comes through. He does have to frequently explain that it is not cheddar. As a matter of fact, a slogan for Glebe Brethan could be, “It’s not effing cheddar.”

David has a farmer’s practicality and says to pay attention to the traditions that come before you. If cheeses makers in France say to mature the cheese on spruce planks cut when the moon is waxing, there is probably a pretty good reason to do that, because they’ve been doing it for centuries.

David shared that maturing cheese is the real skill in cheese making. David and Elisabeth told us of magical cheese tasters that can predict the exact time that a cheese will reach perfection. One element of our tastings was trying two maturity levels of a few cheeses, including Glebe Brethan, to contrast the flavors.

Our last evening of cheese class was about wine and cheese pairings, and the basic message was eat cheese and drink wine that you like. When putting together a cheese plate, it is unlikely one wine will work wonders with each cheese, so the goal is to choose a wine that can be a graceful accompaniment. But some wine and cheese combos create amazing new flavors, like a pairing we tried of Cratloe Hill Sheep cheese with Il Casolare Rosso.

If there is any doubt that we are in the Age of Irish Cheeses, check out the new book by Glynn Anderson and John McLaughlin, Farmhouse Cheeses of Ireland – A Celebration.  This beautiful book will tell you everything you need to know about Farmhouse cheese in Ireland. I met Glynn’s wife Lucy at the Savour Kilkenny Food Market, and she invited me to a book launch reception with Feargal Quinn, a senator and the founder of SuperQuinn.  At the reception I chatted with Eugene Carr, who had started working with cheese makers in the 1980s to provide marketing support and help build up a retail presence. He said he would take 15 cheeses to a meeting and folks would say, So, tell me about all these cheddars. (They weren’t all cheddar!)

Eugene told me that SuperQuinn’s  early interest in Irish Cheese was important to the developing industry. So, it was fitting that Feargal Quinn spoke, and “christened the baby,” as they said at the launch. In his talk, Feargal said this book would influence future food traditions of Ireland. A wonderful part of food culture in Ireland is that any food producer is no more than a half day’s drive away. Bill and I have met several producers like the lovely Anna Laveque of Triskel cheese, and when on the Beara Pennensula, we called out to the home of Milleen’s and chatted with Norman Steele. He told us the amazing story of how their cheese grew in popularity on the power of its flavor alone (and possibly the power of its aroma!). I loved the part where they started getting telegrams with orders, as they didn’t have a phone. As Norman pointed out, the postman had to ride his bike up a very large hill. I can’t imagine a more lovely place to live and make cheese.

The view down the Steele's drive

A great part about a book launch for a cheese book is the eating of the cheese at the reception. Even better we were given takeaway boxes to take home samples, so I took some Triskel pyramid, a lovely Loire-valley style goats cheese. Back at work that afternoon, I wanted to share the Triskel love, so I served up a good slather on some brown bread and offered it to a coworker. He took a bite, and was viscerally reminded that he doesn’t happen to like goats cheese. I saw him heading to the bin with the uneaten portion and I shrieked, Don’t throw it away! Don’t throw it away! So he returned the remaining bit to me, and I ate it, and it was glorious.


When I’m peckish a little bite of nice cheese usually sorts me out.
@tulanian
Bill Gunter

I recently heard a definition of authentic that I like: if something is authentic, it has a story.

It helps with a little debate about authentic cuisine that’s been bouncing around in my head for many years, after once being questioned about whether any post-new-world cuisine could be considered authentic. My response seemed unscientific, like, um, it’s about what people eat? And left me wondering, how long until a new thing becomes a traditional thing?  Bill and I like to create traditions. For us, repeating an event three times brings it into tradition territory.  But of course, societies work on a grander scale, so how long in terms of cuisine? A hundred years? Hundreds of years?

This question applies to the current debate on Irish cuisine, part of which I witnessed at Savour Kikenny. At the end of Food Camp, six food passionistas engaged in a rousing and entertaining debate, otherwise known as Food Fight! Regina Sexton, the UCC food historian, spoke last and made the statement above about authenticity (among many other statements) that gave me a little ribbon to tie together my foodie day.

Regina wasn’t the only person talking about story. The whole day was about story, starting with the open attitude of Food Camp. Any attendee is invited to present a session, on any food-related topic. In other words, tell us a story!

From Colin Jephson of Ardkeen in Waterford and John McCarthy of Kilkenny Eurospar, I learned the key to selling artisan products in a retail establishment is putting the producer in front of the customer. The customer loves that connection and responds to the story behind the product. In turn the customer becomes part of the story.

Real Bread from Bretzel Bakery

William Despard of Bretzel Bakery described how simple ingredients create the bakery’s various breads, and demonstrated his opinion of industrially produced sliced pan by knocking a few pieces into the wall with a hurling stick. [That has to be the most indelible image from the weekend, or is it Regina's amazing halo of hair?] For William, the story of bread, its reputation, needs to be reclaimed and people educated about real bread.

Freelance wine consultant Susan Boyle spoke about Ireland’s wine heritage, including the Irish Wine Geese–the Irish families that emigrated to France and founded influential wineries (such as Château Lynch-Bages). A daughter of several generations of publicans, Susan is curious about how Ireland’s wine DNA could be more fully expressed in Irish wine culture.

Journalist Suzanne Campbell is co-creator of the documentary What’s Ireland Eating? and her stories are cautionary tales of a vertically integrated food industry where a few corporations own the ranches, processing and distribution, and therefore hold sway over retail. (All of her scary stories are about a large country to the West, from which we happen to hail.)  Ireland still has many family farms, which many believe are being preserved by the EU farm subsidy. If we want the subsidies to end, then Ireland needs structure in place to protect the food production system. And consumers have to shop accordingly, and consider the hidden cost of cheap meat.

When the food bloggers convened to discuss the first year of the Irish Food Bloggers Association (IFBA),  it was clear that the members feel the strength of the IFBA is not speaking as one voice, but in encouraging the multitude of voices. The IFBA is a brilliant forum to share information, and foster connections. What I heard in the session was an enthusiasm to actively support the founders Kristin and Caroline and allow the IFBA to do more to encourage food blogging in Ireland, including a possible food blogger conference. I vote Yes!

In the greatly anticipated Food Fight, the six appointed foodies discussed the topic Traditional Irish Cuisine – an embarrassment of riches or just an embarrassment? All parties agreed that Ireland is bursting with natural food resources. The question is how well has Ireland used these resources to create a cuisine.  The room was full of folks who have chosen to create, sell, promote or write about food in Ireland, so we cheered the pro camp represented by Seamus Sheridan, Birgitta Curtin, and Catherine Cleary, but the comments from Suzanne Campbell, Regina Sexton and Colman Andrews were not so much an indictment, but a call to excellence. Irish cuisine is a story still being written, and we are certainly in the exciting chapters. Seamus’ memory of his grandmother rolling pie pastry with a deft hand.  Catherine’s collection of new food memories, including black pudding and rhubarb at L.Mulligans and dining on Irish abalone.  Colman’s offerings of historical recipes from the finest Irish kitchens of the 19th Century.  Suzanne’s account of a food culture that has lost its way, stumbling from the austerity of the church,  to the convenience food of the 80s, to the image-consciousness of the Celtic Tiger. Birgitta’s enthusiasm for Irish food, and her desire to bring the world to Ireland and feed them. Regina’s admonition to end comparisons with other cultures, and to embrace an independent food identity.  Wherever Ireland is on its food journey–looking back to old traditions, looking forward to new ones–all these voices are forming the story of Ireland’s authentic cuisine. (Although Regina says we shouldn’t use the French word cuisine!)

As I roamed the food market the next day, I thought to myself, the story continues.

Ireland's food identity develops a little further at Savour Kilkenny Food Market

Producers like Prue of Prue and Simon are celebrating Ireland's pudding traditions

Highbank Orchard Syrup: totally Irish and totally new

Many thanks to Keith Bohanna and Mag Kirwan, all the speakers and many others who made the day possible and brought tasty things for lunch.

In the shops of Dublin right now you’ll find plenty of kale. In a few weeks you may not be so lucky. Kale availability surges in October for the Halloween tradition of eating colcannon.

But there’s more to kale than colcannon. Loads more.

The first thing that comes to my mind when I think of kale is stew. Kale and its cabbagey cousins hold up well in soups and stews.

Bill made the white bean stew the other day and I tweeted about it and our friend Lisa replied.


@ love kale and white beans. and kale and most things, really.
@lisaiscooking
lisa lawless

Lisa happens to be a food blogger and I asked her for some kale suggestions:

Spaghetti Squash. Kale Salad. We’re already miles away from colcannon.

Bill and I have been curious about eating kale in a salad for a while. Kale can be tough, so before serving it raw, the leaves are massaged with the dressing for the salad. Bill says it’s like pre-chewing. I prefer to think of it more like wagu beef massage.

Bill put his Brassica-massage skills to work, and created a tasty raw kale salad.

Kale Salad with Asian Dressing

200g kale, ribs removed, torn into bite-sized pieces
Juice of 1 clementine
Juice of 1 lime
soy sauce
toasted sesame oil
3 spring onions, sliced thin
1 red bell pepper, diced
1/4 cup chopped coriander
1 green chile, halved, ribs removed and sliced thin
1 T sesame seeds, toasted

  1. Wash and dry the kale.
  2. Toss in a large bowl with juices, a splash of soy sauce and several drops of sesame oil.
  3. Massage together for several minutes until the kale is tender.
  4. Add remaining ingredients.
  5. Add more soy and/or sesame oil to taste.

We ate the salad with some Asian-glazed salmon. Delicious. Bill declared the kale salad to be one of the best things he’s eaten in a long time.

I was having a kale chat with a co-worker, and she said she would be interested in kale recipes…if she could substitute spinach. Funny one Fi! But in truth, most kale recipes probably would be great with mature spinach. And thinking about spinach recipes might be a good way to come up with dishes that could handle a bit of Kale. Caryna of Caryna’s cakes told me about making a quiche with Kale, Chard and Emmental cheese. A hit at the Dublin Co-op where she caters the Thursday cafe. And Aoife of I Can Has Cook declares kale to be one of her favorite brassicas in this post about Kale and Anchovy pasta.

In our kale fever, Bill and I decided to try something we’d read about–kale chips. Bill washed and spun dry a bag of kale, tossed with some olive oil and placed the leaves flat on some baking sheets. After 15 minutes in the oven, the much smaller kale leaves were tossed with salt, lime zest and chile powder. The entire bowl of this weird, but addictive snack was then consumed by Bill and me.

Obsessing on kale recently, I’ve been like an FBI agent who scans the air waves, listening for chatter about X Factor or what have you. I jumped when I saw the following on Twitter.


Love it when a dinner plan comes together – kale pesto is served http://t.co/cqxYQSp7
@DailySpud
Daily Spud

Kale Pesto! Daily Spud’s post provoked a few replies, and she responded with the basic recipe: About 3:2 steamed kale to toasted pine nuts, grated Parmesan 2 taste, glug of olive oil, Maldon salt.

That’s a kale lover I thought, and I asked her if she had any more Kale recipes. Indeed she did: Lentil and Kale stew with smoked fish.

I sent a call for kale recipes out into the twitterverse, and uncovered a recipe for kale and scallops:


@ I used this recipe but kept the kale a bit crunchy! http://t.co/2E5vhKwA
@HeyPestoie
Yvonne

 

Also on Twitter had a conversation with Mark about cooking kale and he told me his parents used to hide money in kale. Is that a tradition, I asked?


@ Yup, tradition. Wrapped in tin-foil, it’s a cheap way to make kids eat their vegetables.
@MarkAylward1
Mark Aylward

Money in the colcannon? Mark’s comment led us to survey those who sit near us in work. 35% of respondents observed this Halloween tradition as children. Our study also identified a high correlation between finding money in kale as a child and loving kale as an adult. Something to keep in mind, parents! We also discovered a vein of kale revulsion running through the public. To those haters I can only say, this post is for you. And read Daily Spud’s post about rediscovering kale in colcannon.

Yep, ain’t nothing wrong with colcannon.

I hope you’ve enjoyed our Kale round up, and now have a place to come when in this situation:


@ I bought kale on Saturday. Yet to decide what to do with it. Any suggestions?
@lauriegeorge
Laurie George

 

 

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