Gunternation

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.

Three great words: Dingle. Food. Festival.

And three more: We. Were. There.

Fabulous time meeting producers, eating wonderful food, and hanging out with food bloggers at the Dingle Food and Wine Festival from 30 September to 2 October. Here are some highlights from the markets, Dingle Producer Showcase and Taste Trail:

Cloudberry Bakery won Best New Emerging Food Producer from Kerry at the Blas na hEireann National Irish Food Awards. Sam from Cloudberry is delightful, and not just because she gave us a sample box which contained red velvet cake, among other delights. I claimed the red velvet cake as my birthday cake. Cloudberry puts raspberry coulis in their red velvet. I probably wouldn’t have guessed that, but I would have thought it was a luxuriously flavored cake. In addition to being delicious, many of Cloudberry’s cakes are sparkly.

Marie Charland makes Dingle Fudge and a line of chutneys and pickles called Pickled in Dingle. She uses home grown produce in her pickled products, except for fruits that don’t grow in Ireland, like citrus. Marie is French, and passionate, and fun. And we were on TV* together! You can contact Marie at mhcharland at hotmail dot com.

Marie says something hilarious!

We laugh! And simultaneously love Dingle-produced food!

We chatted with Orla Gowen of Bácús Bhréanainn about the attention she gives to the finishing on her bread, which is evident in these gorgeous loaves. When asked, she said her favorite is the seeded loaf located in the center of the pic. It was German-inspired I believe, and very tasty.

We came home with cupcakes from Little Miss Cupcake: a Ginger and Lime and a Black Forest Gateau. The Black Forest cupcake was lusciously delish, and I loved the combo of gingerbread and lime. Sharon from Little Miss Cupcake blogs at Foodie Fancies.

Dingle Brewing Company, a new brewery, launched their Crean’s lager last summer. It’s refreshing, not too hoppy. Goes great with fish, which is good news in Dingle.

On Saturday and Sunday, over 60 business hosted stops on the Taste Trail. These oysters at Lord Bakers were one of my favorite nibbles (or slurps I should say). The Taste Trail integrates the festival with Dingle town, giving the festival a unique personality.

The Taste Trail stop at Goat Street Cafe. A fun stop because they served a pairing of tart with dessert wine. I liked this sweet Jurançon from Chateau de Navailles. And that we got to sit down.

I had read about the traditional Dingle pie served in mutton broth in The Examiner, so I kept my eye out for a taste. Reminded us of chicken and dumplings. Definitely would take the chill off in winter.

The Dingle Food Festival was a fantastic opportunity to chat with producers, like Veronica from Crossogue Preserves, and her fellow Tipperarian and stall neighbor, Cate from The Cookie Jar. We came home with jam and cookies, needless to say! Enjoyed Cate’s American-style oatmeal and peanut butter cookies, and am looking forward to cracking open a jar of Crossogue. Start with the Quince Chilly, or the Apricot, Pear & Grand Marnier? Decisions!

We loved Eva’s marshmallows and teacakes made with carrageen moss instead of gelatin. Using the carageen moss creates a great Irish connection, and these confections truly melt in your mouth, with none of the chalkiness of industrially made marshmallows. And they’re vegetarian. You can contact Eva at thelifesweet at gmail dot com.

We knew the food festival was truly magical when we found a Texas BBQ serving brisket. A Texan and her Irish husband own The Courthouse Bar, and they were serving brisket. Smoked brisket. This is a day I’ve long dreamed of in Ireland. Actually, I know of two other pit BBQers in Ireland. I follow them on twitter: @The_BBQ_Team and @pitmastermick. An exciting time for meat lovers.

*I’d say you’ve arrived when you appear on RTE’s Nationwide. Oh, and don’t be mad about the screen grabs RTE.

Last weekend we were in County Kerry for the Dingle Food and Wine Festival. (So much about that sentence makes me happy.) On Sunday morning we were invited to join some fellow foodies on a fishing trip, so six of us found ourselves gathered in the marina on a foggy morning. We were uncertain. We were wearing layers. Can you fish in the fog, we wondered, such landlubbers were we. This is brilliant weather for fishing, our skipper assured us, sounding nothing like a pirate. (Bill and I had hoped he’d sound a little like a pirate.)

Heading out to sea

We boarded the Sarah Ellie and headed off across the glassy water. We could see the mouth of the bay in the mist, but in a few minutes we were lost in the fog. Our skipper, Paul, killed the engine and gave us a two minute lesson on sea fishing–Let her out, keep your thumb on the spool, then reel her back in a little. Out. In. Keeping her moving.

From the moment the first lure hit the water, our day turned magical. Within seconds Ollie had reeled in a 6kg pollock. It was a stunner of a fish. We were all amazed. Even Paul was amazed. The fish went into the blue fish bucket, and we all set ourselves to fishing, hoping to match Ollie’s catch. In. Out. Keep her moving. A few more pollock came on board. I caught one that weighed few kilograms. We caught lots of mackerel. They all went into the fish bucket, gasping a bit, but shining silver, the mackerel’s backs covered in green and black tiger stripes.

Ollie's prize winning catch

Paul moved the boat to a new location. We all hit twitter with our fish tales. Fishing is fun! Then we fished some more. We threw back tiny mackerel. We sang sea shanties. (Not really, but we should have.) We caught a load of fish.

Bill reels in few mackerel

Gathered around our bucket of fish, we snapped pics of our catch like they were celebrities. That’s deadly, Niall said. Irish slang for great. It was deadly, the deadliest catch! All thanks to our excellent skipper, and some mad, foodie fishing skills. Great job Bill, Ollie, Niall, Aoife, and Ross!

Our catch

We both have fishing in our genes

Back at the marina Paul filleted the fish. Slice in behind the gill, down along the bone. On the mackerel, flip over and repeat, to create a butterfly. On the larger pollocks he cut separate fillets on each side. Ollie’s fish was almost too large for the knife. You can feed ten people off that fish, Paul said. He bagged the fish for us and send us over to the Marina Inn and told us to ask for Darcy.

Paul fillets a mackerel

Fillets of fish

Darcy is the chef at Marina Inn and she prepared some of our fish for lunch. We washed the scales from our hands, and restored ourselves with post-voyage pints of Guinness and Crean’s lager (from Dingle Brewing Company). We shared a starter of tasty mussels in cream sauce. Darcy played a blinder* and served us three fish dishes–fried, beer-battered pollock; pollock with Parmesan cheese crumb; and mackerel with chorizo, potatoes and sun-dried tomatoes. Everything about the fish was great–the texture, the flavor. Eating fish that had been swimming in the ocean not more than 90 minutes before is incredible. I think the mackerel was a favorite–it has a bit more flavor that the pollock. A lunch to remember.

Freshest fish I'll ever eat

Many thanks to Aoife for organizing, and to Paul of Dingle Bay Charters and Darcy at the Marina Inn.

*I’m using Irish slang! It means, performed excellently.

On a recent Sunday, Bill and I drove to South County Wicklow to visit our veg guy. That’s right, we don’t have a local–that pub where everybody knows your name–but we do have a veg guy.

His name is Duncan Healy, and he’s at the Red Stables Market in St. Anne’s park every Saturday. I’ve mentioned before that the market is part of our favorite Saturday routine, and after a bunch of Saturdays of chatting over chard or tomatoes, Bill and I started referring to Duncan by name and saying things like, oh, if Duncan has some nice kale today I’ll make a kale and white bean stew. Well, Bill would say those things.

And then one day there were tomatillos.

The way I remember it, I was at work on a Saturday, and I received a single-word text from Bill: Tomatillos! I let out a yelp and raised my phone over my head like large-haired Joan Cusack at the end of Working Girl.

While my recollection may be altered by the mists of time,  we did indeed find tomatillos in Ireland and we were stoked! If you’re unfamiliar with the tomatillo, it is like a cross between a tomato and a pepper and is in the gooseberry family. Tomatillos are common in Mexican cuisine, frequently used in salsas and sauces.

My favorite use for tomatillos is to toss a few  into a blender along with a clove of garlic, a serrano chile (or jalapeno or bird chile), and an avocado. Blend. Then enjoy a bright, perfect marriage of creamy and tangy. It’s great as a dip, or served with Rick Bayless’ potato and pork tacos. (See right.)

Bill likes to roast tomatillos. For a fresh salsa, throw a few tomatillos, a clove of garlic, and chiles into a roasting pan and roast about ten minutes until blackened. Blend these ingredients to a puree, and then add some diced onions and cilantro. The roasting mellows the flavor of the tomatillo and adds tasty charred bits. You can also freeze the puree of roasted tomatillos, garlic and chiles. This base can be added to browned onions to make a salsa verde, which is excellent with pork (see below) or add onions and cilantro for salsa as above.

We were delighted to be invited to visit the Healy farm. Duncan grew up on the farm, and returned a few years ago to work with his father, Denis. The farm operates as Organic Delights, providing produce to restaurants and through stands at many markets including Temple Bar and Dun Laoghaire. We’re really happy that our local market sells so many veggies grown right down the road in Wicklow. What they can’t grow in Ireland, they will import, so the Organic Delights stall is always bursting with selection.

After feeding us homemade pizza, salad and blueberry crumble, Duncan led us and a contingent of kids and other family members around the farm to visit the pigs and see all the baby veggies growing big and strong. We snacked on plums, apples and raspberries as we explored the greenhouses with onions drying, tomatoes blushing to red, and pea tendrils climbing their trellises.  We collected a few veggies to bring home, including two round, green squash that when cut open looked like a cross between the seedy pulp of a crookneck squash and the stringy spaghetti squash, and tasted better than that description indicates. In fact, they were lovely stuffed with quinoa, beef mince, onion, tomato, and a couple tomatillos, and topped with cheese.

Thanks to Duncan and Cindy and family for a great day on the farm.

Petting a pig

A pocket full of watercress

Raspberries (still not used to berries being an Autumn fruit)

Tomatillos!

From the market this morning. Oh what goodness lies in store!

Hanging out with foodies is a good thing. You get to bask in a camaraderie of cuisine and take pictures of your plate with impunity. And sometimes you get free cake.

On our recent foodie field trip to Eastern Seaboard we met Caryna of Caryna’s Cakes. In the chitchat over our calamari and pig’s cheek, we learned that Caryna is a full-time baker who sells baked goods at various markets and supplies some small cafes and coffee shops as well as special orders. As a matter of fact she had been working at a market that very day and had driven straight to meet up with us all in Drogheda. She still had all her market gear in her car. She also mentioned that she had made a pumpkin apricot cake for the market that day, and that she had a few remaining slices in her car. She said she thought it was the kind of cake that would be even better the next day.

Pumpkin. We love pumpkin. Canned pumpkin is one of the items we accept in exchange for room and board in our apartment. When my aunt and uncle came to visit us they moved the cans of pumpkin into a carry-on to reduce weight on a checked bag, forgetting that canned pumpkin is, by Transportation Safety Authority definition, a gel. When questioned about this can of gel my uncle explained very passionately, Oh, I have to take that to my niece. She has to make pumpkin pie! Oh pumpkin pie, the agent said, well, of course. And the pumpkin boarded the plane. Pumpkin pie trumps terrorism risk. As well it should!

So, throughout our wonderful meal a little part of my mind kept thinking about the pumpkin cake in Caryna’s car. While eating the black pudding ballotine and sweet potato fries I kept thinking about pumpkin cake. As we left that evening I inquired as to whether I could purchase a slice. Dear reader, she gave us all her leftover pumpkin cake! She even sent it home on the pretty china plate, saying we could return it the next time we meet.

So I rode home from Drogheda with that cake on my lap (see photo at right), and that evening we read about that exact cake on Caryna’s blog. I marveled at the power of foodie fate that led that cake from a stranger’s kitchen into my home on that magical day.

Bill and I each took a slice to work on Monday. The cake was terrific. Full of those warm spices with perfect cream cheese frosting. We had no shortage of baked goods, having returned from Brown Hound Bakery with a gift box and a lemon cake. The pumpkin apricot cake was not overwhelmed by those treats at all.

Caryna has a great story about the provenance of the pumpkin apricot cake (plus the recipe) on her blog. She also has a recipe inspired by our visit to the Brown Hound Bakery and more information about her baking business.

Did I mention she delivers cakes on a vespa?

Food longings are a part of expat life. Put a group of expats together and they start talking about foods they miss. They don’t have to be expats from the same country. Someone can tell me they miss eating yellow mangoes fresh from their back yard, and I’m like, Ah I know, I miss breakfast tacos!

Really, food longings are a part of regular life. Anyone who has ever moved to a new state and not been able to find Green Goddess salad dressing, or thinks about those oysters from that vacation in Florida, or misses her grandmother’s pecan pie knows food longing.

My expat food longings fall loosely into two categories. I miss my food routines–kitchen staples,  restaurant favorites–but I also miss foods that I rarely ate, but the fact that I can’t find them in Dublin intensifies the longing.

Fritos are in the absence makes fonder category. If you’ve never had a Frito, a Frito is a bit like a thick corn nacho chip. They’re a little greasy and a little processed and yet, you’ll eat the whole bag because munch a bunch of Fritos go with lunch. In the South* we might put chile and cheese on a pile of Fritos and call it Frito pie. Frito pie is a common festival food, served right in the Frito bag.

Bill and I were talking about Frito Pie one day and along came the longing. So I put Fritos on the list to bring back from our Texas trip, and recently Bill made chili and we had Frito Pie.

It was good.

In fact, Bill’s chili was great and perhaps a bit too elevated for Frito Pie. Chili is one of the few things I know how to make, and my recipe involves cooking garlic and onions, browning beef, opening a variety of cans–whole tomatoes, tomato paste, pinto beans–and adding plenty of chili powder and cumin. Makes a passable chili.

This is what Bill did:

First I soaked some ancho, pasilla and guajillo chiles in hot water for about 30 minutes. Then I whizzed these up in the food processor with a can of tomatoes, an onion and a few cloves of garlic. I passed the chile mixture through a fine strainer and then simmered the strained chile sauce until it was thick and brick-colored.  Next I browned a pound of beef mince and a pound of my homemade Mexican chorizo together and transferred it to a strainer over a bowl to drain. I separated the fat from the liquid and added the liquid to the chile sauce. The fat I used to fry a chopped onion and some minced garlic. When the onion was translucent I added a can of roasted green chiles, cumin, ground coriander, cocoa powder, some umami-bombs (marmite, maggi seasoning and soy sauce), the chile sauce, chicken broth and the browned meat. This simmered for a couple of hours before I added some masa harina to thicken it a bit and some chopped cilantro (coriander). My chili is normally not this complicated but I had fun experimenting.

The next day all the Fritos were gone and Bill had the genius notion to serve chili on roasted sweet potato wedges. Ladies and gentleman, this was fantastic. Chili should be served on sweet potato wedges at least 65% of the time. Not all the time as that would limit chili’s potential, but 65% is my recommendation.

Read an NPR Hidden Kitchens story about the masa origins of Fritos here.

*I never realized Frito Pie was a Southern thing until I tweeted about it and a fellow expat from the Midwestern US didn’t know what Frito Pie was, so I looked it up on Wikipedia and sure enough, Southern. Does seem Southern when you think about it.

My apologies for the crappy photo–I had already tasted the salad and couldn’t take the time out from eating for a proper photo.

Man, is this good. Panzanella is a Tuscan salad of bread and tomatoes. It’s a great use for stale bread, and tonight I happened to have some stale homemade wholemeal focaccia.  It’s best in the summer when the tomatoes are the tastiest, but cherry tomatoes are fairly good all year. It would be sublime with juicy, ripe garden tomatoes. The bread soaks up the tomato dressing so the salad is fairly dry. The feta and olives try to take it away from Tuscany in the direction of Greece but the basil keeps it firmly in Italy. This is adapted from a recipe published in the July 2011 issue of Cooks Illustrated.

Ingredients

1/3 cup extra-virgin olive oil
2 tbsp Red wine vinegar
Salt & pepper
4 cups solid, crusty bread torn into 1-inch chunks
400g cherry tomatoes, halved
1/2 cucumber, peeled, cut in half, seeded and sliced thin
1 shallot or small red onion, sliced thin
2 tbsp chopped fresh basil
1/4 cup crumbled feta cheese
1/4 cup pitted kalamata olives

Instructions

Preheat the oven to 215 C (425 F). Toss the bread with 2 tbsp of the olive oil and 1/4 tsp of salt. Spread in a single layer on a rimmed baking sheet and bake in the oven for 15-20 minutes. Stir it once or twice if you don’t have a fan oven. When it’s lightly brown and toasty remove it and let cool.

Meanwhile, toss the tomatoes with 1/4 tsp salt in a large bowl. Dump in a colander and let drain over the bowl for 15-20 minutes.

Whisk the vinegar and remaining olive oil in the bowl with the juice drained from the tomatoes. Add the bread and some pepper, toss and let sit for 10 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Add the remaining ingredients and toss. Salt and pepper to taste.

Serves 2.

Hints

You must use a really solid bread here or it will turn to mush. Sourdough from La Brea (available at SuperValu and sometimes Tesco) or Soul Bakery would be great.

Use the best olive oil you can afford. It makes a huge difference.

Leave out the feta and/or olives if you don’t like them.

On the wall at Havana on South Great George’s Street, a TV screen displays waves crashing and caressing a sunny beach, beckoning you to come away to a chilled-out place where time is measured by the tides. The people gathered here on Saturday afternoon were ready for a relaxing adventure, to seek out the sun, if only in the spicy flavors along the Tapas Trail. The group of five men and thirteen women sat along the bar and at small tables as dark-haired waitresses served platters of tapas: a pinxto with spanish tortilla, a slice of jamon, and an olive anchored to a piece of tomato bread with a wooden pick; a spicy chicken spring roll; prawns nestled together in a citrus garlic sauce. The platters passed by twice. And to drink, a glass of ruby wine, a Rioja.

At one point a man in a tight t-shirt got up from his laptop in the corner and took the hand of the woman behind the bar. They began to twirl around the small open space, silkily running their hands along each other’s shoulders and hips. There was a slight pull to join them, but only one glass of wine had been consumed and the guests were still shy.

This gathering at Havana was the first stop on a tapas trail sponsored by Campo Viejo on Saturdays and Wednesdays during June. At the same time across City Centre, tapas trekkers were gathering in the four other stops on the trail: Port House, Bar Pintxo, and the Andrews Street and Parliament Street locations of Salamanca. The five regiments would crisscross city centre, led by a guide in a Campo Viejo golf shirt and red apron, armed with a radio–“Bar Pintxos, come in. Are you ready for us, Bar Pintxos?”–and some Dublin trivia along the way. Before departing Havana each person received a ticket to be stamped at each location which would serve three tapas and a glass a Campo Viejo Rioja. The price for each participant, a mere €20.00.

The Havana contingent moved next to The Port House and were directed upstairs to a room lined with wine bottles and candles, cozy and cellar-like despite its first floor location. The furniture looked messily pushed to the side, as if the previous group had been desperate to dance, but these visitors stood along the walls as the manager told the history of the restaurant and described that tapas that would be served–a paella, Pinchos Morunos (chicken marinated in smoked paprika and oregano on a skewer) and patatas (potatoes) mojo . Traditionally cooked in sea water, the potatoes are boiled until the water evaporates leaving a sparkly salt coating and are served with a deep red sauce made with ground chiles, garlic and almonds. The serving of paella was generous and the smoked paprika flavor was delicious on the grilled chicken skewer. Finishing these treats, the trekkers started to realize that the €20 investment was better than a value, it was a steal.

Heading from The Port House to Salmanca, the group traipsed through the streets feeling that combination of self-consciousness and sense of purpose in being, or at least acting, like a tourist. Stopped outside the Dublin Tourist Centre in the former Church or St. Andrew, the guide talked about the Irish 5th Brigade that fought in the Spanish Civil War . She passed out lyric sheets to Christy Moore’s Viva La Quinta Brigada and led the tapas choir in song, although it was not apparent that anyone knew the melody. A survey with a very small sampling indicated that no one had even heard of the song. That did not stop the guide from starting again at the beginning (On the radio “Five more minutes, okay!) and setting a poor example for some passing tourists of Dublin’s busking talent. Later one participant pulled up a video of Christy Moore’s version on his phone. “It sounds more Irish when he does it,” he said.

At Salamanca, the crew stood around a few tall tables and were served adorable mini pork burgers with a teriyaki mayonnaise, Russian salad with smoked salmon, and another take on paella adorned with Dublin bay prawns. After a pause to appreciate a young woman dancing Flamenco, it was on to Bar Pinxto, a sister restaurant to The Port House, for a grilled pork sandwich, chicken marinated in garlic and a stew of chickpeas and black pudding. Finally, a short walk through the bustling streets with just a sprinkle of rain brought the group to the second Salamanca location. The tapas were served here buffet style–a fried prawn, beef skewer and a seafood stew with Calamari served in a scallop shell. At this last stop, the diners relaxed in a nook of tables while a gentleman played Spanish guitar.

Along the way it was revealed that three Spanish citizens were among the group, although the guide was unsuccessful in persuading either woman to sing or dance. Later it was further revealed that the small Spanish woman with long blond hair is a Spanish cook, as her friend started handing out cards and testifying to her friends cooking talents. “This is good,” the blond woman was heard to say a few times, “But when I do, better.”

Possibly true, but for this crowd, Dublin’s tapas offerings made for a perfect Saturday afternoon.

We couldn’t leave the Howth Prawn Festival without buying some prawns so we picked up a pound at Nicky’s Plaice. Also, we needed to satisfy a craving for sopes.  First, the roasted tomato salsa. I grilled five medium tomatoes, one halved and peeled red onion and three cloves of garlic under the broiler until blackened in spots on both sides. Whizzed the tomatoes and garlic in the food processor until blended but still a bit chunky. Stirred in half the onion chopped, some chopped cilantro, a squeeze of lime juice, a bit of salt, two toasted and torn arbol chiles and a bit of water.

Next, the sopes. I kneaded one cup of masa harina with a bit of salt and enough warm water to make a soft dough then rolled this into nine walnut-sized balls. I pressed them into 3-inch disks in the tortilla press and cooked them three at a time for 2 minutes on each side in a skillet on medium heat. After they’d cooled for a bit I pinched the sides up to form the sopes (they look like little boats) and set them aside, covered, while I worked on the other parts of the meal.

I fried a few slices of smoked streaky bacon until crisp. Into some of the bacon grease went a couple cloves of garlic and the remaining chopped red onion. To this I added a can of black beans (undrained), the crumbled bacon, cumin, oregano, cilantro and salt and left it bubbling on the hob.

The Dublin Bay prawn tails were frankly a pain. They aren’t shrimp but more like little lobsters with hard, spiny shells. I found you could pull the tail off and usually the “vein” (intestines) would come out with it. Squeezing the sides of the tail until the shell on the bottom cracked helped with pulling out the meat. They went in a pan with a few cloves of garlic and some butter. After a couple minutes they were pink and firm and I added some salt, lime juice, cilantro and a torn arbol chile and set them aside.

Finally, I heated a cast-iron skillet over medium heat with enough vegetable oil to cover the bottom. I added the sopes in one layer and salsa to the sopes. I forgot to brush the sopes with the remaining bacon grease so I did it after adding the salsa, but it should be done before adding anything. After a couple minutes the salsa was bubbling a bit so I removed the sopes to the plates and topped them with the prawns. A spoon of beans topped with cubes of avocado completed the plates.

The bottoms of the sopes were browned and crisp, the salsa was slightly smoky and spicy and the prawns sweet–a really nice combination. The beans were very bacony which played nicely with the avocado. Not sure the prawns were worth the effort to extract them but they were tasty.

Ireland on a sunny day. You can’t beat it.

We had several glorious days in April. The kind that inspire the Irish to strip down to their tank tops and go in search of a sun trap. One such glorious Saturday,  Bill and I spent the morning in Howth (not wearing tank tops) on a Fabulous Food Trail offered in conjunction with the Howth Prawn Festival. I’d seen flyers for the Dublin Fabulous Food Trail in Listons and thought it looked like a fun thing to do. But I was intrigued by the Howth version of the walk, and then followed a fun twitter report of the Dublin walk from Aoife of I Can Has Cook,  so I booked us in. Even though it meant leaving the house before noon on a Saturday.

We had a perfect day for the tour. The day was so perfect that we were compelled to repeat the refrain: This is such a perfect day. It really was. A perfect day.

We met our fabulous guides and fellow tour mates around 11:00 at the historic Courthouse building and then walked up the hill to look out over the church ruin. This is one of the first places we visited in Ireland before we ever considered moving here. (It is also the site of the great sea gull attack of 2008. Gulls are very protective of their babies camouflaged as stones. That’s all I’m saying. That,  and they battle-pooped on Kevin.)

Our Howth-native guide Roisin gave us some history about Howth: its viking inhabitants, the two-day journey from Dublin through Clontarf bandit territory, the ups and downs of the fishing industry, the arrival of the steam packet boats, and the generations-old family knots that identify fishing lines. Then the snacking began.

We started with a stop at The House restaurant for coffee and scones. Bill and I had a lovey meal at The House once, but I have to say the thing I remember most was the woman next to us freaking out about having bones in her fish. She had ordered a whole fish. Also I remember Bill being very excited about salsify. The House offers a single course meal during the week called Dinner for a Tenner and they host Jazz Dinners on Wednesdays. The Saturday brunch looked really nice as well.

Next we visited Ray Collier Butcher shop where Ray told us about the cattle they are raising on Lambay island. Organic, fed on grasses and herbs, the meat actually has an increased salt level because of the proximity to the ocean. They were ready to bring the cattle in for slaughter, but were waiting for the tides to be right to retrieve the cows.

Then we visited Ella Wine Bar for some prawn salad on toast. Ella has lots of fun wine dinners, and they also have jazz evenings. We are now on the mailing list! We’d worked up a thirst by then, so it was well timed that our next stop was a wine tasting at The Winehouse. The owner had put together a tasting of three very accessible and affordable wines: a Prosecco, a Pinot Grigio and a Nero D’avola. Fortified, we visited The Country Market, a well-stocked food store with a cafe upstairs. Joe, the owner, generously served us a dessert trio of carrot cake, chocolate brownie and fruit tartlette.

Next we we were invited into the studio of Howth artist Una Sealy. Una’s studio is in the garden behind her house, so our little band of tasters traipsed through her front hall and her lovely, sunny kitchen, past a congregation of potted pants, along a stone walkway, around a sleeping cat into a delightfully cluttered studio.

Una talked to us about what she loves about Howth and the scenes of Dublin Bay, her tendency to let people wander into her landscapes, her efforts to capture the fleeting beauty of nature into a more lasting form,  and the state of being annoyed with the shape of Ireland’s Eye. She told us the stories behind several paintings and showed us some paintings in progress. Una starts with a brown-toned image and builds up the color. The painting-in-progress below is of Howth rooftops looking down toward the water.

And of course she offered us some smoked salmon from Nicky’s Plaice (on a plate Una painted of scenes from San Francisco). Nicky’s is the choice of Howth locals. It’s where they fish, Roisin told us.

Our final two stops were a slice of pizza from the new pizza oven at the Centra and a wee glass of Guinness at The Abbey Tavern.

After the tour we checked out the Taste of Howth event happening as part of the Prawn Festival. There were about ten restaurants represented and everything smelled great, but I confess after spending the morning being welcomed into various Howth establishments with a warm smile from the owner and a plate they had prepared for me, the lines and busyness of the tasting was a bit of a drag. But it was still a perfect day, and the dishes we managed to procure with our Prawn Punts were tasty.

The Fabulous Food Trail ladies are adding Howth to their regular schedule, but Una won’t make a regular appearance. Visiting her did seem like a special event and was a highlight of the day. But even without a visit to the studio, the Howth trail will be a fun excursion, especially if you have a perfect day.

There wasn’t too much more to the Prawn festival except for some carnival rides, so we decided to grab some fish and chips from Beshoff’s and then visit Nicky’s Plaice on the way home. It was about this time that the perfect day was threatened as rain clouds filled up the sky. We could see rain falling nearby, but only a few drops fell in Howth. I hope the Prawn festival continues to grow, and takes on my suggestion for a Prawn Queen contest. Can you just imagine the crown with sprouting prawn eyes and antennae and the lovely segmented, prawn-pink cape with claw clasp? I think my friend Louise and I will enter. As she said, she’s always wanted  an exo-skeleton.

Keeping the prawn spirit, we bought some Dublin Bay Prawns at Nicky’s Plaice for our dinner.

In related sunny day news…

After our Crackbird field trip,  my work mate Barry and I made our way back to work through St. Stephen’s Green. The green is one of my favorite spots on a sunny afternoon and I love participating in “the lying upon the grass.” The green was chock full that day and it took a large dose of adult responsibility to return to the office. I asked Barry to snap my pic and a friendly tourist asked if we wanted one together, so here we are, the happy business analysis team mates.

Sunny days call for patio dining, so it happened that I had lunch at Tiesan Cafe on consecutive, sun-drenched days last week. On my first visit I had my standard Eggplant/Auburgine sandwich, and so the next day I branched out and got the lunch special–a ham and cheese omelet. The omelet was light and delicious with the salad greens. Roll on Summer! (Which according to Irish seasons started yesterday.)