I’m not gonna lie. Making marmalade this weekend nearly killed me. It also came very close to destroying our beloved kitchen in a single swoop of a sugar boil over. What started as a fun, sweet smelling adventure….even Zen-like at times, turned into a study in wrong utensils, burnt orange peels, arms and fingers, and a massive citrus manicure that would make bathtub shriveled hands look as smooth as a baby’s bottom to boot. So, no, no, no, a Lady Marmalade, I am not.

It was a good lesson. This blog has received a few nice foodie mentions lately, which are wonderfully cherished & remarkable given that I am still only learning the ropes in the kitchen. And, while I’m having a great time getting acquainted with a food culture that is very exciting to learn and share, it can still feel very unfamiliar to me at times.

When I lived in America, I would marvel at the pretty marmalade packaging at my local co-op, but never really indulged. At the time, there was not the same variety of flavours…a couple of brands peddling your straight-up orange marmalade is what was mostly on offer. Then, I moved to Ireland and I couldn’t believe my eyes when I first walked down the jam & preserves aisle at the supermarket or at our local Milk Market.  I was fascinated by so many versions of marmalade: whiskey marmalade, bitter orange marmalade, thick cut, fine cut, chips style, lime, grapefruit, tangerine, orange and ginger…the list goes on.

I presumed marmalade making was a traditional preserving skill that would be easy and fun to try in the kitchen. After all, I had made Peggy’s Gooseberry Jam without fail. But, marmalade is a different beast, it takes an extraordinary amount of patience. For the cooking of the oranges, for the cutting of the peel, for the waiting of the set. I suppose there is still a part of me that craves quick and convenient, even though my life is anything but!

A staple in cupboards across the country, marmalade is the perfect accompaniment to a slice of toasted bread for breakfast, a new tradition that I have come to enjoy. In fact, the principal at Geoffrey’s school told me that long ago children were given marmalade in the morning to brighten their moods. I could understand, marmalade is like sunshine in the morning.

Since this is the time of year for Seville oranges and I had just received my Mrs. Beeton’s Household Management book in the post, I decided to give it a go. I found the oranges in Superquinn. It was very exciting. I had never seen a bag of oranges labeled “for cooking only.” They cooked for two hours in a large pan of water covered with a plate. The following day, it was time to slice and ream out the oranges. Luckily, I had a reamer, but it still was an awful mess. I guessed the peel would take roughly thirty minutes to complete. Three hours later, I was still trimming. I had started out cutting the peel thin, and kept going increasingly thinner and thinner until paper thin, as I obsessed about all the advice I received on making sure the peel wasn’t too thick.  After an hour, my hands were already sore and raw and I was nearly ready to throw in the towel despite having a kilo of oranges left to ream and peel.

I was making two versions, straight up marmalade and marmalade with cardamom so I divided everything up into two saucepans, which seemed to be large enough. I brought them both up to a fast boil and planned to keep them at a low rolling boil until the setting point. After about fifteen minutes, I tested the consistency with a plate. Watery. Five more minutes, syrupy. Six more minutes and a happy dance later, the cardamom version had set so I turned it off to cool. 15 minutes down the road and the other batch still had not set. It was boiling over and turning very dark. I had to keep turning it down. I burned myself more than once.

Thankfully, I ended up with six pots of delicious orange-cardamom marmalade. The rest of the marmalade never did set, and is bitter and burnt to the taste. I still don’t know what went wrong. I also managed to make two jars of Seville orange curd with three reserved oranges which turned out absolutely delicious, so will share the recipe here.

Seville Orange Curd

Combine the grated zest of 3 Seville oranges & juice of one lemon,

125g butter and 250g sugar in Bain Marie over simmering hot water until completely melted.

Slowly stir in 2 whipped eggs, stirring constantly until mixture is thick on back of wooden spoon (15 mins or so)

careful not too have the heat too high or your eggs will scramble.

Put into jars and let cool

Refrigerate and eat within a week

I am sure in a year’s time the memories of sweat, burns and tears will have faded….

….and I will try, try, try my marmalade again.

Slan Abhaile,

Imen

Photos and Styling by Imen McDonnell 2012

Tags: American, cardamom, farm, farmer, food, foodies, I Married An Irish Farmer, Imen McDonnell, ireland, Irish, Irish food photography, irish foodies, lady marmalade, marmalade, milk market, orange curd, Seville oranges

In Ireland, school kids have a longer break during the holiday season. The little farmer was home from school from the 19th of December until the 9th of January. In the States, I believe most children head back to school sometime during the first week of January. This lengthy vacation seems to be justified by having a far shorter summer break, again, opposite of the American school system. {repeat mantra: tis different, not better or worse, tis different, not better or worse….}

The weather was too poor for assisting daddy on the farm, so let’s just say we had a lot of time on our hands here in the house. And too much time on our hands in the house = baking up a storm together (it also means dressing up our Airdale, Teddy, each morning; planning month-long trips to outer space, and building no less than fifty forts and obstacle courses…but, I digress).

Another new baking discovery for me here in Ireland is the beautiful Bakewell tart. Originating in Bakewell, England (thank you for enlightening me, Angharad), it is a firm fixture in bakeries, shops and cafes around this fair country as well.  The Bakewell tart (which would be called a ‘pudding’ if you were in Bakewell itself) is essentially a jam tart filled with a little almond-y (frangipane) cake on top. The story goes back to the 1860’s when a kitchen maid accidentally poured the almond mixture into a jam tart, a winning mistake if I do say so myself!  It’s modest: not too sweet nor gooey, and goes perfect with a cup of tea or coffee in the afternoon.

The first time I enjoyed a slice of Bakewell tart was in the sweet little cafe at Brown Thomas department store. On a Sunday afternoon city-fix with the baby farmer in tow, I collapsed in for a cappuccino. Upon spying a pear almond version of the tart in the pastry case, my nutty sweet tooth could not resist. The waitress brought a slice out topped off with a dollop of whipped vanilla cream and a persimmon on the side. The rest is history.

We decided to make a chocolate version since there are more than a few chocoholics at the farm and I thought it would be a nice treat. We baked a dozen tartelettes, had a little tea party and they were gone in a flash. Here’s the recipe:

Chocolate Bakewell Tart

Serves 4-6

For Pastry

75g/5 tbsp unsalted butter

140g/1 cup plain flour

25g/2.5 tbsp caster sugar

1 egg yolk

2 tbsp water

For the Filling

3 tbsp dark, chocolate grated

150g/2/3 cup butter

150g/2/3 cup caster sugar

75g/2/3 cup self-raising flour

3 eggs, lightly beaten

1 tsp vanilla

150g/3/4 cup ground almonds

grated zest of one lemon

3 tbsp lemon juice

6 heaped tablespoons of raspberry jam

icing sugar

Preheat oven to 220c/425F/gas mark 7

Work the pastry ingredients together to form a dough, and chill inthe fridge for 30 minutes Roll out pastry and use to line a loose-bottomed (springform) flan tin that is 25cm in diameter and 5cm deep (or 10 mini tart tins). Chill again and bake blind for 10 minutes.

For the filling, place the chocolate in a bowl over a pan of hot water then remove from the heat when melted. Cream the butter and sugar together. Fold in the flour, adding the eggs and vanilla extract, melted chocolate, ground almonds and lemon zest. Add lemon juice until the mixture is of a dropping consistency.

Spread the jam over the bottom of the pastry case, then spoon in the chocolate mixture. Bake for 15 minutes at 220c/425f/gas mark 7, then reduce the heat to 180c/350f/gas mark 4 and bake for a further 15 minutes or until the filling is cooked.

Sprinkle with icing sugar if you please.

Serve warm or cold with a big dollop of cream…and a persimmon on the side if you wish =)

I am very excited to announce that I have been asked to share recipes on Irish Abroad, a lovely online community for Irish expats, descendants and persons wishing to travel to Ireland…should be loads of fun!  I chose a classic Victoria Sponge for my first recipe, have a peek here.

Slan Abhaile,

Imen

Photos & Styling by Imen and Geoffrey McDonnell 2012

Tags: airedale, American, Bakewell, baking, Brown Thomas, farm, farmette, Farming, foodie, foodies, I Married An Irish Farmer, Imen McDonnell, ireland, Irish, Irish Abroad, Irish food photography, irish foodies, school holidays, tea, Victoria sponge

Happy New Year! You might have noticed a few wee changes here….what better time for new beginnings than the first week of the year, right?

In the spirit of fresh new starts, I’ve decided to make a small change to the title of this blog and from this day forward she will now be emblazoned: “farmette” {at I Married An Irish Farmer}. The farmer and I gave it some thought and came to the conclusion that it was time for a change…and in his words “We all know you married an Irish farmer now….isn’t that old news?” He’s right.

So, here’s the new news…

1. I have basically (umm, finally) settled into my role as ‘chief farmette’ here at the farm.

Plus…

2. The little weekly column that I write is entitled “Tales of A Modern Farmette” and @ModernFarmette is also my handle on the ‘ould Twitterbox, so now everything will be all nice and tidy.  We likey nice-y and tidy.

And…

3. The word “farmette” makes me smile. Nuff said.

For now, the web address will stay the same so you don’t have to remember a new one, eventually it will move to a new address and I will make sure that process is seamless.

I have also added two new pages on the right hand side:  “Settling In” and “Traditional Skills”. Both quick links to past blog posts with “Settling In” being a sort of pre-food round up of funny posts about adapting to my new life in the countryside, and “Traditional Skills”, a place for all those time-honoured skills that I have learned over the past 2 years, such as butter and cheese making, apple pressing, jam, bread, and honeybee posts. I will be adding new material to both pages as time goes on.

Roight. Enough with the housekeeping, swiftly moving on…

I had planned on starting off the year with theeee most wickedly decadent cake + pudding post, inspired by one too many viewings of Sofia Coppola’s Marie Antoinette over the holiday break, but decided to go with a healthier start…for a week or so anyway.

Baked porridge oats for brekky is one of the little farmer’s firm favourites. He loves it with brown sugar + massive amounts of cinnamon and Grandad’s honey. This morning we used Highbank Orchard Syrup, a boiled down apple syrup in place of the honey. Let’s just say it went over better than a new Phineas and Ferb episode. I discovered this gorgeous new product at Savour Kilkenny in October, and we will definitely keep a stock of it in the larder from here on out as it is perfect in porridge on a cold winter’s morning.

My {Quick and Easy} Baked Irish Porridge Oats

Ingredients

1 cup of Irish porridge oats (We love Kilbeggan Organic* best)

2 cups of water or milk + 2-3 tablespoons milk

1 tsp boiled apple syrup or 2 tsp of honey

1-3 tsp cinnamon

2 tbsp brown sugar

Method

Bring the porridge oats and water or milk to a boil in a saucepan. Turn down heat and let simmer for 3-4 minutes stirring constantly. Remove from heat. Mix in a few tablespoons of milk, a teaspoon of Highbank Orchard Syrup (or any boiled apple syrup) and cinnamon to taste. Pour into an ovenproof ceramic baking dish, sprinkle top with 2 tbsp of brown sugar and place into 425f/210c oven* for 20 minutes or until brown sugar has bubbled and hardened on top slightly. Serve immediately.

*alternatively, if you have an oven with an overhead grill place under at 200c for 10-15 minutes

*Since posting, I rec’d an email that Kilbeggan Oats are now available in Stateside at Dean & DeLuca!

You can also use the coarser steel cut oats; just soak them in water overnight beforehand so they get nice and soft when cooked/baked in the morning.

Cheers to a wonderful 2012! If you have a spare moment, would love to hear your thoughts on “farmette” and other changes to the blog…you can leave a reply below.

Slan Abhaile,

Imen x

Photo and styling by Imen McDonnell 2012

Tags: 2012, American, country life, farm, farmer, farmette, Farming, food, foodies, Highbank Orchard Syrup, I Married An Irish Farmer, Imen McDonnell, Irish, Irish country living, irish porridge, Kilbeggan oats, Marie Antoinette, Modern Farmette, New Year

I love gingerbread at this time of the year. Not the cookies. Not the houses. The kind of gingerbread which is more like a cake or a loaf. The kind of gingerbread that you slather deep and thick with homemade butter. Sweet, but not too sweet…more like a tea cake. In my producing days, a post production house in London once sent me a holiday gift of Grasmere gingerbread and the memory of that flavour still lingers on. In fact, it has persuaded me to bake at least one batch of gingerbread for the holidays each year here at the farm.

Since I was doing a charity butter-making demo last evening in Tipperary, I decided it would be festive to bake up some gingerbread to bring along to share with the audience. Once I had the honey-rum butter made, it could be lashed onto squares of gingerbread and passed around the audience. The response was overwhelming. The recipe requested. I was going to post about mince pies today, but they will have to politely wait their turn until next week.

In other news, I am crazy thrilled to announce the first of 3 holiday giveaways that I am doing on the blog this year. Weeee, I feel like Oprah! Giving is far superior than receiving at Christmas, such a wonderful feeling.

So, first up, with a million thanks to Pat Whelan, and following on in the spirit of celebrating Tipperary Food, is a FIRST CLASS BUTCHERY COURSE at James Whelan Butchers in Clonmel, County Tipperary on 21st of February at 6:30PM.  You will join myself and 10 other students to learn all about the meat, where it comes from, how and when it is used along with a range of hands-on butchery skills. James Whelan butchers are fully trained skillful professionals, well-versed in all aspects of cutting meat and the aging process. An in-depth insight into the techniques of cutting beef, lamb, pork and bacon will be covered on the evening.

During our summer in America, I was inspired by so many brilliant artisan butchery classes on offer around the USA that I really wished I could have participated in….now here’s my chance, and yours! Leave a comment below and I will be drawing a name next week.

My Holiday Gingerbread

350g/2 1/3 cups plain flour

1 tsp baking powder

1 tsp bicarbonate of soda/baking soda

3-4 tsp ground ginger

1 tsp allspice

8 globes preserved stem ginger in syrup, drained and chopped

125g/ 1/2 cup unsalted butter, softened, plus extra for greasing

100g/ 1/2 cup light muscovado sugar (brown sugar can substitute)

50g caster sugar

225g/ 3/4 cup golden syrup {there really is no substitute for this recipe}

1 organic egg, beaten

75ml/3 oz milk

Grease and line a loaf tin with non-stick baking paper. Preheat the oven to 160°C (320F)/fan140°C/gas 3. Sift together the flour, baking powder, bicarbonate of soda, ground ginger and allspice. Set aside. Chop 4 globes of the ginger and add to the flour mixture. Finely slice the remainder and set aside.

Melt the butter, sugar(s) and golden syrup in a small pan. Set aside to cool slightly (this should take about 15 minutes)

Beat the egg and milk together. Stir the cooled syrup into the dry ingredients, followed by the egg and milk and beat well. Spoon into the tin and arrange the remaining ginger overlapping on top. Bake for about 1 1/4 hours until just firm to the touch. Cool on a wire rack.

Enjoy warm with lashings of butter and a cup of tea, coffee or a big glass of cold milk.

Slan Abhaile,

Imen

Photos and styling by Imen McDonnell

Tags: butchery course, farm, Farming, food, foodie, foodies, Grasmere, holidays, I Married An Irish Farmer, Imen McDonnell, ireland, Irish, Irish food photography, James Whelan Butchers, London, love, Oprah, Pat Whelan

A couple of weeks ago, Richard asked me if I’d help out with herding a group of cattle. The cows were going from a paddock about three kilometers up the road back down to the home farmyard. He just needed someone to block off one of the lanes along the route until he passed through with the girls.  Of course, I said no problem. I was delighted to give him a hand.

He explained that all I had to do was simply drive up to the crossroad near the graveyard and park the car three-quarters across the lane so that traffic would not be able to get through. He instructed that if someone came along, I would just need alert the driver to the fact that cattle would be crossing soon. No bother. Easy enough.

I swiftly pulled my hair into two braided pigtails, slipped on my lovely new wedge-heeled wellies brought back from NYC, grabbed my rain slicker and off I went out the door with a big smile on my face.

The minute I arrived at the crossroads, it started bucketing down rain. That was okay because until I suspected the cows were coming I could sit in the toasty car and page through my new Make Bake Love cookbook in search of something lovely and sweet to bake for tea that evening.

However, within minutes, cars started approaching from front and back. I was popping in and out of the car and letting drivers know what was going on. No sooner was I back in the car when a new vehicle would drive up again.

For some reason, every single person that I spoke to seemed to stare at me in disbelief as I shared the reason why I was blocking the road. I knew it was an inconvenience, and I was making apologies, but I couldn’t help but wonder if the look on their faces actually had anything to do with the cow-crossing situation.

Did I look suspect wearing my elevated wellies? My bright, flower patterned jacket? Perhaps the mere fact that I probably over-explained things a bit {as we Yanks tend to do} seemed peculiar. I’ll never know, but I suddenly felt very self-conscious as I stood there in the rain waiting on the cows with cars piled behind me on the road.

Finally, I could hear hipping and hollering from down the way. They were coming! We waited. And waited. Hipping and hollering carried on, but still no sight of them. I glanced back at the waiting drivers. I was soaked to the skin. Then, after fifteen more minutes, I began to hear the loud clicking and clacking of hooves and I spotted Richard, running fast and leading the girls who were following behind him like lightning. It was quite a sight to behold.

And just like that, the cows passed, the cars peeled out of sight, and I was on my way back home.

I believe I’ve advanced one step closer to becoming a cowgirl.

Slan Abhaile,

Imen

Photo by Imen McDonnell

Tags: American, farm, farmer, Farming, food, foodie, foodies, I Married An Irish Farmer, Imen McDonnell, ireland, Irish, irish foodies, Kilcolman, love, marriage

If you have reached this blog for the first time, you may be wondering what on earth a Pedal Pub has to do with marrying an Irish farmer….well, I can tell ya. For 1. we could certainly use a pedal pub or two in our part of the world and 2. I am currently Stateside getting my fill of summer city livin’ {for you Irish farmers interested in marrying American city girls, this is a prerequisite). If you’re not interested in my American summer musings, have a peek at this post or this or even this to see what I am usually getting up to in my little Irish farmhouse kitchen + studio.

This week I have made two too good to be true acquaintances. One, as seen above involves a pedal powered pub and the other, the stunning @freshtartsteph of Dara & Co/Minnesota Monthly and her own lovely food blog, Fresh Tart.

While I was driving through the city centre today, I spotted The Pedal Pub cycling down a busy street. I did a double-take because I hadn’t seen such a thing before. There sat 8 people bellied up to the bar, casually pedaling away. Good way to have some cheer and burn off the calories at the same time. Awesome!

Stephanie Meyer and I had been swapping tweets & messages for a few months before I arrived in the Twin Cities this summer. I am in love with every ounce of her food posts as well as her column in Minnesota Monthly mag. She’s the eyes and ears of the Mpls-St. Paul locavore movement and clearly puts loads of passion + effort into championing her hometown food brands/chefs/restaurants and farms. Stephanie also created  MN Food Bloggers, which has gathered local food bloggers together into one big happy family. She organises special monthly events and shares valuable information on loads of great foodie endeavours in MN.

We met for a light lunch at Lucia’s...and ended up chatting for three hours!  In person, she is delectably genuine +  really sweet (see that smile?). Actually: irresistible. We hit it off straight away and are already planning another foodie gathering before I go back to Ireland. Yay!

Next week: Ireland in America…it started off when I stumbled upon Clodagh’s book at Anthropologie this week

Slan Abhaile,

Imen

Photos by Imen McDonnell

Tags: beer, Dara & Co, food, foodies, Imen McDonnell, ireland, Lucias, Married an Irish Farmer, Minnesota Monthy, MN Food Bloggers, Pedal Pub, Stephanie Meyer

Summer in the city = loads of blue skies + sun and plenty of new {memorable} experiences. This week we stamp flying kites and soaking up the multicultural melting pot we call America onto our passports for adventure.

Yesterday, the little farmer and I stumbled upon 49¢ kites at the store around the corner. We bought two and made our way to the nearby park to quickly assemble the colourful flying machines and give em’ a go. Straight away, the warm breeze scooped up our kites and they soared high into the sky. I have to admit, it was awesome. I can’t remember the last time I flew a kite, it might have been when I was Geoffrey’s age. People cheered us on as we ran up and down the open field while screaming with laughter and joy. It was pure recession-proof, innocent, buzzworthy fun.

After working up quite an appetite on our kite-flying escapade, we decided to make our way to the Hmong Village Kitchen in St. Paul. I had read about this special Southeast-Asian market in a local magazine and was very keen on having a look and introducing our little farmer to another culture. I was not disappointed. Colourful. Friendly. Spicy. Busy. Deep Fried. Foreign. Fragrant. Delicious. A feast for all senses. We gobbled up gorgeous red-glazed spicy pork belly with sticky rice for lunch along with a tangy Laotian salad on the side.

We spied fried chicken feet, quail, spatchcocks, Hmong sausages, bean sprout salads, sliced mango with powdery chili pepper sprinkles, banh mi, tri-coloured tapioca smoothies, coconut filled bread, malaysian meatballs, whole fried white bass, papaya salad, boba teas, fried bananas, loads of rice based pastries and dishes.  Meanwhile, the fruit and vegetable stands were filled with fresh lychee, guava, mango, rambutans, lemongrass, Thai bananas, tamarind and many, many more exotic offerings that I could not identify nor could the vendors translate to English.

But,  possibly the best part was discovering our love for Longan fruit. Yum!

*We will be in the USA until the end of August and sharing blog posts about our holiday abroad. Regular Irish Foodie posts will resume upon our return to the craggy isle. xx

Slan Abhaile,

Imen

Photos by Imen McDonnell.

Hmong Village Market & Kitchen,

1001 Johnson Pkwy

St. Paul, MN 55106

651.771.7886
HOURS:
11am-7pm (may vary)
BAR: None
VEGETARIAN / VEGAN: Good luck
ENTREE COST: $5-7

Tags: america, Asian, food, foodies, Hmong, I Married An Irish farmer. Ireland, Imen McDonnell, Irish, kite flying, pork belly

It’s summer. And the invitation read like this…

“Taking a bath will never be the same after seeing the all-new The Amazing Cow Boat! Told through a giant pop-up book with puppets, songs, and surprises, the show is the story of Charlie who, while taking a bath, sails away in his imagination in search of treasure. Traveling in his boat that amazingly is also a cow, he encounters pirates, mermaids, a whale, and an orangutan.  A performance that appeals to young and old alike! Created and performed by Liz Schachterle and Andy Kraft. Music by Susan Haas

The Driveway Tour brings original, family-friendly theater directly into people’s neighborhoods, developing grassroots community involvement by way of an economically accessible theatrical event.  All Driveway Tour performances are free and open to the public.  

Refreshments provided  (Root beer floats!)

Bring a blanket or lawn chair to sit on 

We will ‘pass the hat’ for the performers to help keep the Driveway Tour program “

She had me at Root Beer Floats.

Tags: Cowboat Driveway Tour, fluffer nutter, food, foodies, IBC, Imen McDonnell, ireland, kool aid, Married an Irish Farmer, Open Eye Theatre, pbj, root beer floats

Banana + Toffee = Banoffee

Banoffee is {but, clearly, should not be} one of my besties.

I can explain. You see, the supreme flavor combination of banana and toffee draws to mind a very distinct memory of having the most wonderfully romantic dinner with my father as a small girl. We were eating at one of those old fashioned ‘supper clubs’ whereby my dad would order an old-fashioned for himself and a kiddy cocktail for me in the lounge as we awaited our table in the -highly upholstered- dining room. We had a lovely meal and when it came time for dessert, a handsome man in a white coat and special shiny cart promptly arrived at our table.

Through my little girl wide-as-pie-eyes, what happened from there appeared to be like a fantastical scene out of Willy Wonka. As the man calmly and professionally sliced up fresh bananas, whipped, poured, stirred and magically created a flame of blue fire, he described each detail of his process with humour and prose. In the end, he eloquently presented each of us with a piping hot, creamy, caramel-y Bananas Foster on silver plates. The aroma and flavor were like heaven on earth. *Unforgettable*

Fast forward to 2005. I walk into an Irish café and see the Banoffee in the dessert case onnnnce again {it’s everywhere} and decide to dive in and give it try. The banana + dulce de leche flavor sends me right back to being daddy’s best girl all dressed up at a supper club on a midsummer’s night. Instantly, I am committed to Banoffee.

Banoffee can be found around Ireland at most cafes’ and on the dessert menu at many restaurants, but, in fact, as I researched for this post, I discovered that this pie originated in England.  As the story goes, the cake’s invention is claimed by Ian Dowding and Nigel Mackenzie at The Hungry Monk restaurant in Jevington, East Sussex. They developed the dessert in 1972, having been inspired by an American dish known as “Blum’s Coffee Toffee Pie”, which consisted of smooth toffee topped with coffee-flavoured whipped cream. Dowding adapted the recipe to instead use the type of soft caramel toffee created by boiling a can of condensed milk, and worked with Mackenzie to add a layer of bananas. They called the dish “Banoffi” and it was an immediate success, proving so popular with their customers that they couldn’t take it off the menu.

Yes, the recipe calls for boiling a can of condensed milk. Yes, it works. But go on, give it a try because I know you just want to see for yourself. It’s a fun and easy no-bake treat to make with children. You can prepare one big pie or a few baby sized like I did.

…and if you can get farm fresh cream, even better.

Banoffee Pie

For the toffee sauce:

1 (405g) tin of condensed milk

For the Base:

350g of digestives or tea biscuits of your choice (in the USA, graham crackers

would work)

150g of butter, melted

300ml whipping cream

3 bananas, sliced

Cocoa or choc shavings (optional)

To make the toffee sauce, remove the label of the condensed milk and immerse it in boiling water. Boil the tin for 2 – 3 hours. The longer you boil it, the darker and thicker the toffee will be. Make sure that the tin is FULLY immersed in water at all times, otherwise, the tin could explode.  (You can also buy pre-made caramel in tins or make the dulce de leche from scratch like this )

For the base, crush the digestives and mix it with melted butter (you can blitz in a food processor as well). Using a pestle or back of a spoon, press the digestives into a 9″-diameter tart base with a removable bottom (or 4-6 mini tart tins). Chill the crust in refrigerator for at least one hour. Meanwhile, whip the cream until it’s stiff.

Fold sliced bananas into whipped cream. Spread a layer of toffee and top with the banana cream. Sprinkle with cocoa or dark chocolate shavings.

Slan Abhaile,

Imen

Photos and styling by Imen McDonnell. Assisted by Master Geoffrey McDonnell

Tags: Bananas Foster, Banoffee, Brennans, farm, food, foodies, Imen McDonnell, ireland, Married an Irish Farmer, Saveur

Yes, yogurt is usually spelled yog-hurt on this side of the pond. Not just in Ireland, but often throughout Europe. I discovered that the word yogurt is derived from the Turkish: yoğurt, and is related to the obsolete verb yoğmak which means to be curdled or coagulated; to thicken. Why the H is added, we will never know, I’m just glad it’s not called yoğmak anymore.

It was imminent….had to be done….I could not bear to go on without my frozen yogurt for one day longer. Long gone are my days of Pinkberry or TCBY. I’m in Ireland, baby. For a brief period, I could find plain frozen yogurt in the supermarket freezer section, but one day not toooo long ago, it suddenly it disappeared without even saying a proper frozen yogurt banana split goodbye. You see, frozen yogurt was one of those lovely, healthy standby treats that I could get the little farmer to eat. He couldn’t tell the difference between frozen yogurt and ice cream especially when it was covered in fresh berry coulis or a dab of marshmallow fluff and pecans…and neither could I. *tissue please*

Once again, I plunged into farmette mode and wondered if I could make my own frozen yogurt using dairy from the farm. I pondered + pondered until this past weekend when I stumbled upon a recipe for gooseberry & elderflower frozen yoghurt which looked positively delicious! As it happened, gooseberry picking was also on the books for the weekend so we kept 500 grams aside for my little frozen yogurt experiment. I had a batch of Elderflower cordial on hand for the occasion, another seasonal + local treat that I had planned on blogging about this week until the greatness of gooseberry frozen yoghurt presented itself. {Stop by these sites for a little Elderflower love: Edible Ireland and Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall }

The recipe is very simple and you don’t need an ice cream maker, although it would be far easier as I had to remember and stir the mixture a few times to get just the right consistency. For the maiden voyage, I opted to use Glenisk natural greek style yoghurt which is a staple in our house. I also added the puree of two pears simply because they needed to be used up and while I believe it enhanced the flavour somewhat, they are not necessary. The flavour and texture are both incredible…I had no expectations and I have to say this frozen treat is a real taste sensation!

This certainly won’t be my last attempt at making frozen yogurt; next time I will try my hand at making some farm fresh yogurt and experiment with other flavours.

Pinkberry Shminkberry.

Give it a go!

Green Gooseberry + Elderflower Frozen Yogurt

500 g green gooseberries

2 ripened  and peeled pears

150 caster sugar

4 tbsp undiluted elderflower cordial

500 g full natural greek yogurt

1 tsp vanilla extract

Put the gooseberries and pears into a small saucepan with the sugar and 3 tbsp water. Bring to a simmer, stirring occasionally, then cook gently for a few minutes until all the berries have popped and softened. Whizz to a puree with a blender, then push through a sieve with a ladle to get rid of the pips. Stir in the elderflower cordial and vanilla and allow to cool. When it’s cool, fold in the fruit puree. Either churn in ice cream maker or put into shallow metal container in the freezer for a few hours, until mixture is solid, then break up and blitz in food processor until totally smooth. Return to freeezer for an hour or so. Eat while soft-ish. Scoop up and serve!

Slan Abhaile,

Imen

Photos and styling by Imen McDonnell…assisted by Master Geoffrey McDonnell

Tags: elderflower, food, foodies, frozen, gooseberry, Hugh Fearnley Whittingstall, irish foodies, Married an Irish Farmer, pear, Pinkberry, TCBY, turkish, yogurt