Banana Pudding

Ever since I tried the eponymous banana pudding at Magnolia Bakery in NYC earlier this year, I am absolutely obsessed with pudding.  American style pudding, that is.  You see, in the USA we have a pudding that is like no other pudding in the world. Similar to a pastry cream and originally prepared by heating milk, sugar, vanilla, cornstarch and butter followed by painstakingly stirring for a nearly an hour, it very quickly evolved into a variety of creamy goodness that could be whipped up in 2 minutes. This “instant pudding” was created by the hugely popular brand JELL-O and shlepped for eons by no other than the charming Bill Cosby with his entourage of adorable children. JELL-O brand pudding is absolutely-unequivocally-embarrassingly  ”All-American”. And by “All-American”, of course I mean that it comes in a box and is made by whipping up packet of powder together with cold milk on high speed with an electric hand mixer.  Boasting an array of flavours, the classics:  french vanilla, chocolate, butterscotch, pistachio (neon green in colour), lemon along with some clever new ones: oreo cookie, flan, pumpkin spice, cheesecake and more. It will last for 6 months in the fridge and could have quite possibly been initially created for astronauts (or was that Tang?). Of course, Magnolia doesn’t use instant pudding for their banana puds, but I have to admit that I don’t mind a cup of neon pistachio from time to time.

Not surprisingly, this form of pudding does not exist anywhere else in the world. In fact, in Ireland and the UK there are at least 4 types of puddings (including our little boy whom we’ve lovingly deemed “puddin”) and none of them are quite like the good ole American standby (again-except,of course, our “lil puddin”) It dawned on me while we were enjoying a beautiful Mother’s Day with a traditional Sunday roast lunch at O’Brien Chop House in Lismore, Co Waterford. I had ordered the gorgeous roast rib of beef with Yorkshire pudding and all the accoutrements. Whilst perusing the menu I just happened to notice that there were 3 distinct puddings on offer.  Now, this isn’t the first I’ve heard of these said puddings. If you recall, in a previous post I blogged about the Full Irish and made a distinct comment regarding breakfast puddings as well .

So without further adieu, allow me to fully describe each of the aforementioned puddings: The first pudding on the menu was listed as part of a starter: Black pudding served on a bed of rocket and beet salad. These pudding starters seem to be a trend in nouveau Irish cuisine. Formerly only served up as a breakfast item they are now turning up in many a Michelin starred resto as an appetizer or possibly even in a starring role as a main course. Black (or white) pudding is a blood pudding that resembles a hockey puck in shape and size, is crunchy and has a distinct flavour. That’s all I will say.  Go on, try it…..I dare you. The second: Yorkshire pudding with the beef roast entrée. I love Yorkshire pudding. Very much like an inverted pop-over, they are an eggy pastry which when covered in gravy or au jus is like going to heaven and back. And the third basically accounts for all desserts in a nutshell. Pudding can refer to any type of sweet dish served up after a meal. Some have the word pudding in them , i.e bread and butter pudding, some do not. One of my favourites would be GU Chocolate Puds, deadly brownie-like creatures that are, as the name hints, generously gooey. Sticky Toffee pudding at Adare Manor became a twice a week staple for all of us. Warm rice pudding with raspberry jam is like a blanket on a rainy day, just the ideal comfort food. Perhaps this is where we came up with our idea of pudding here in the USA after all. Came over on the Mayflower and eventually fell into Bill Cosby’s hands? Either way, puddings here or there are clearly a necessity in life. Long live the puddings of the world!

Slan Abhaile, Imen

*Oh, and as far as the breakfast roll? Just a catchy little tune written by my former employer, Pat Shortt. Listen here.

If you have a spare moment, take a peek at my new column in the Irish Farmer’s Journal, Country Living, each Thursday on page 13.

Urban Dictionary definition for the term loco:

Loco. (adjective) Spanish. Crazy, mad or insane.

Right so. I am going absolutely loco over all the farm-to-fork, locavore, farm-hosted dinner events in America. I find it such a brilliant and inspiring concept that I would love to bring to our farm in the near future.

Here are a few shining examples of what I am speaking of:

Outstanding in the Field

Plate and Pitchfork

Tour De Farm

The only thing that could possibly make these better is if they were happening Ireland on a regular basis….

Who’s in?

{Leave a comment below}

Slan Abhaile,

Imen

Ahhhh yes, the new season has arrived on our idyllic Irish farm.  And each year when the long winter gracefully grows into Spring, I can’t help but feel nostalgic as I ponder the contrast between my former frenzied life in the city and our sublime quiet life in the country. Ok so maybe nostalgic is not quite the right word..perhaps it’s more like agonized. Yes, agony is definitely more like it….

So, ahem…{now wiping the crocodile tears away}

Greener than green grass growing at breakneck speed, new potatoes cropping up in the garden and mummy cows constantly calving are certainly a stark contrast to the citified symbols of Spring that I used to indentify with…..and frankly, could even say I adored. For it’s at precisely this time of year that my heart longs for convertible cars (well, specifically mine I suppose) buzzing about with their tops surreptiously peeled down, busy city sidewalks aflurry with freshly pedicured feet nestled into open-toed shoes and the absolute best bit of all: dining al fresco after work with girlfriends, sipping cocktails, noshing on salads and sushi all whilst in true Bill Cunningham style–watching all the fashionable women and men trotting down the street in their best Spring hues. An invite to do this on any given night = simply irresistable.

So terrrrribly irresistible that I am constantly trying my best to emulate that experience here by creating more of a relaxed and “countrified” version of my old ways. It goes a little like this:  after a long day of working on various projects, I will change into a powdery little tee, a pair of my favourite Gap white capris and flip-flops and put on my new Cath Kidston apron. I will then proceed to make a huge Summery salad to start out our dinner. This salad will inevitable include the following (mostly locally) grown ingredients: mixed greens with plenty of rocket and watercress, red onion, vine ripened tomatoes, cucumber, steamed asparagus, grated carrot, goat’s cheese, roasted walnuts and poppyseed sprinkles tossed with one of my secret-agent vinagrettes*.  Then, I will take out anything from (again mostly locally sourced) prawns to fish, chicken or steak which has been marinating in another one of my secret-agent concoctions* all day and throw them on the BBQ.  As this protein is sizzling away on the grill, I will then make a pitcher of citrusy margaritas, Bootlegs, or G&T’s for R and I (and any visitors we are lucky enough to have) to sip on after our little boy is in bed. On dry and warm evenings we sit on our terrace taking in the absolutely stunning sunset behind the Shanid castle ruin on the hill, watching as the light changes and our trees slowly morph into those gorgeous die-cut images that seem to be everywhere these days. I call it “Farm Fresco” and though it’s not the same as those bold and bustling city evenings, it can nearly be just as satisfying…..

This Spring we welcomed a sweet preemie calf. His mum was not well so R had to induce her 4 weeks early and she produced a little boy whom we have named “Bogo”. Normally calves are up and walking in an hour, but Bogo struggled for a couple weeks before he would finally stand and now he’s up and walking, stronger than ever. Perhaps I too am like Bogo….when I came here I was nearly paralyzed by the change. Now…a few years later I am slowly, but surely, adapting to this new life and each day Ireland and the countryside are becoming more and more like home to me.

Slan Abhaile,

Imen

*olive oil and a form of vinegar, crushed garlic and lemon juice or other fruit juice then close my eyes, choose some spices and hit pulse on the food processor.

photo courtesy of The Daily Telegraph

Tags: al fresco, bbq, Bill Cunningham, bootlegs, calf, city, convertibles, farm, GAP, ireland, J. Crew, margaritas, Spring, summer, sushi

I would like to take this opportunity to share my friend Gemma’s book with you all today. You might wonder what does a chicklit book about the dating world have to do with living on a farm in Ireland? Well, ironically enough, I too was on a “dating detox” of sorts when I met R and he whisked me away to an Irish farm. It’s dangerous stuff.

So, 1. be warned: dating detox can lead to marrying an Irish farmer and 2. reading it could lead to buying more and more of her books.

So, go on….have a look at Gemma’s book trailer for “Dating Detox” here and if you like what you see, you can buy it on Amazon!

Slan Abhaile,

Imen

Beans-Irish Style

Well, here I am….I have arrived at my sweet home away from home. And I’m loving it. It’s day three so I am fully adjusted once again to driving on the right side of the road and getting into the opposite car door {okay, so that’s not entirely true}. It’s interesting because each time I return home I am far more aware of how much I am changing and just how much I appreciate the little things that I think Americans do best: incomparable customer service, eternal optimistic enthusiasm and, in a word, just plain“convenience”.

Back home in Ireland, I have *painstakingly* learned to do things on my own a bit more. It’s called “getting on with it” I’m told.  Let’s be clear, I do understand that this “getting on with it” business for me has more to do with living on a farm in the middle of the Irish countryside than it has to do with living in Ireland as a whole.  Still, some things like having your groceries lovingly bagged and delivered to your car for you at the supermarket or having an amazing gourmet pizza transported to your home via rocketship on any given night are things that can really put a smile on your face {and the children’s too}. It would appear that you can have anything you want at virtually any time of night and day here. I admit that found it a bit of a challenge not being able to have this citified life of convenience upon moving to Ireland, but now I realize that having to do more stuff on my own has instilled in me a certain amount of pride that I hadn’t really embraced before. Another plus? It makes things remarkably rosy when we are back for visits.

One of my favourite things to do when I first arrive back home is…drum roll please: Glorious food shopping! Whole Foods, the local co-ops, Trader Joe’s and Lunds/Byerly’s are my happy haunts here. I could giddily browse for hours and hours just examining all the new items and trying all the delicious samples. I am especially loving the locavore movement and being able to find so many fresh local ingredients everywhere. There is an importance placed upon this like never before and it is refreshing especially to “us farmers”.  Still, out of curiosity, I decided to take a look and see which, if any, authentic Irish exports I could find in stock.

I found these…

And these…

And then I was reminded that, at the end of the day, a nice cuppa can always put a smile on our faces too…..

Here or there.

Imen

Tags: america, barry's, bylerlys, food, heinz, Imen McDonnell, ireland, kerrygold, locavore, lunds, married a farmer, tea, trader joes, whole foos