It’s official. I’ve lost the plot.  Or, as one might say in Ireland: I’ve gone mad as a brush, a bit doolally, cracked as a cricket, bonkers, a bit touched…. and, in all likelihood--away with the fairies.

You see, the cake pictured above is not your average-ordinary cake. It is NOT a gorgeous vanilla sponge slathered with tangy Meyer lemon icing, nor is it a secret red velvet covered in velvety cream cheese frosting. No, no, no. It is a cake made out of four layers of homemade bread, filled with savoury, creamy goodness and spackled with chilled mayonnaise. Oh, and by savoury, creamy goodness, I mean stick to the ribs, wholesome, rich, Irish-style sandwich fillings. {Ahem, mad as a bag of cats}

I’ve had a notion for quite some time that I needed to share a post about the beauty of Irish Sandwichery with you. I suppose I am taking a bit of liberty with the term Irish Sandwichery, but I believe it serves it well. The art of the Irish sandwich or “roll” is a craft to be reckoned with.

However, it did take me a bit of time to adjust to sandwiches in Ireland. I say this because sandwiches were kind of my ‘thang’ for a long time. I felt intimately close with sandwiches as they comforted me on days when I worked through lunch (more often than not) crunching production numbers or screening through buckets of directors.

I treasured my weekly stiletto sprints to the deli to choose my special sandwich, grab a bag of chips (crisps) and a spritzy lemonade before heading back to my office. I had a bit of a system in place, whereby I would alternate rare roast beef with cheddar on a braided roll with corned beef and Swiss on Kaiser. The odd day I would splash out for chicken salad with grapes and almonds on croissant.  If it was cold out, perhaps a gooey tuna melt and some soup too. Chicken and stuffing had not yet entered my universe.

It is possible that my sandwich affinity started when I was a small girl. I remember my mother making up platters of tuna sandwiches or fluffer-nutters for us when I was still young enough to run around topless on a hot summer sprinkler kind of day. We would eat sandwich after sandwich washed down with tumblers of Country Time lemonade. The picture of health.

So, when I saw my first sandwich board at a popular Irish café, I was stumped. Egg mayonnaise? Ham and salad? Cheese and Onion? Chicken and Stuffing? Tuna and Sweetcorn? Ploughman’s? Bacon and Boiled Egg? Not one turkey pastrami on rye. Wha? Despite the obvious carbtasticness of Chicken and Stuffing, I went for it. And, umm, never looked back.

I have tried each and every one of these traditional Irish sandwich fillings and they are all some kind of wonderful. We often have just sandwiches for evening tea on the farm. Now, these are not the only choices you will find in Ireland, but without a doubt, you will find most of these options in every deli, grocery store, filling station, pubs and casual cafes around this fair country. (*Oh, and for early morning sandwich lovers, try the famous Irish breakfast roll: sausage, rasher, egg, hash brown, puddings, onion, butter and sauce on baguette)

For this post, I really wanted to celebrate Irish sandwich fillings and was trying to think of how to go about it when I was struck by a tasty memory of eating a cake made out of sandwiches years ago. Growing up in the Midwestern part of the USA, you will find plenty of Scandinavian influence in cooking and baking. I distinctly remember a friend’s Scandi mother making these massive sandwich cakes from time to time, and online research tells me that they were likely called Smörgåstårta.

And, so it was decided: I would make a sandwich cake layered with Irish-style fillings. Serendipity!

First, using Rachel Allen’s recipe, I baked my bread layers in springform baking tins, just like you would a sweet layer cake.

Then, I made up the fillings; I chose to do three fillings, which makes it a gorgeous tower of a cake, but to be honest, a bit too much trouble to cut into. If you decide to make this, I would go with two thick layers for the ease of it. I went with tuna + sweetcorn, cheese + onion, and chicken + stuffing (with a bit of rocket). I “iced” the cake with chilled mayonnaise and adorned the top with wild garlic flowers and sorrel leaves.

And, for the big reveal…..sloppy, creamy, oozy, bready, messy, scrumptious savoury cake heaven.

Really lovely treat to bring to an afternoon lunch, garden party or pot luck. Choose your own favourite flavours and decorative toppers. You can also do this using bread rounds from the bakery or store.

Slan Abhaile

Imen x

Photos & Styling by Imen McDonnell 2012. Wild Garlic & Sorrel foraged by Geoffrey McDonnell. With thanks to the Irish Twitter squad for helping me with the mad Irish expressions.

Tags: American, cake, Cheese and Onion, Chicken and Stuffing, farm, farmer, Farming, food, foodie, I Married An Irish Farmer, Imen McDonnell, ireland, irish food, Irish food photography, love, love in Ireland, Marrying an Irishman, Midwest, Sandwich, smörgåstårta, Sorrel, Tuna and Sweetcorn, wild garlic

I know, I know, yet another sinfully caloric, overly indulgent, sugary, post. Yes, but this time I have an excuse: Kiddos! We made these up on a Saturday morning after a little farmer’s sleepover and they went down a storm.

While my experiments in Irish baking seem to know no bounds, I like to think they are for the greater good as the fruits of my baking are ultimately bestowed upon hungry farmer bellies. While my amazing mother-in-law, Peggy, still prefers to prepare the large daily dinner feast for the men on the farm each afternoon, I contribute by way of baked goods and puddings. A win-win for all. We get to nibble a bit and then share with others. I have become convinced that baking and sharing is the key to a happy life.

These “Ballymaloe Balloons” were originally created by legendary Myrtle Allen of Ballymaloe House. They have since made their way into to both Darina and Rachel Allen’s kitchens + cookery book repertoires. They are quick and easy to make as they don’t include yeast so no need to raise dough, plus you don’t need a deep fryer, you can simply use a frying pan and flip them when golden. Roll em’ in sugar & cinnamon and serve immediately.

I am super excited to announce another fun giveaway, perfectly suited for this wintery time of year. A new Irish brand that I find innovative, creative annnnnnnd practical: Slugs & Snails tights for boys! I stumbled upon these beauties a few months ago and they made me wish I had a baby boy again. Slugs & Snails are a small family run business, which started in 2008 with the birth of their son, Noah. Living in an old house, atop a cold windy hill on the west coast of Ireland, keeping Kat’s newborn baby boy warm was a priority, and tights were the obvious solution, yet she simply couldn’t find any tights designed for little boys.

No stranger to farm living either, Kat and her family bought a farm in 2007 and have raised a pig, chickens and look after their vibrant veggie patch. Couple her country living background with the fact that she has used PacMan ghosts for one of her designs, and I immediately had to order a pair for my nephew-in-law!

Simply said, they ROCK.

PS. Girls can wear em too =)

Leave a comment below to win two free pairs of Slugs & Snails tights for boys, perfect for your baby boy or for a baby shower gift. Kat will ship internationally.

Slan Abhaile,

Imen

Photo by Imen. Styling by Geoffrey McDonnell and his sweet little hand 2012.

Tags: American, Balloons, Ballymaloe, boy tights, darina allen, farm, Farming, I Married An Irish Farmer, Imen McDonnell, Irish country living, irish food, Irish food photography, irish foodies, kids, Myrtle Allen, rachel allen, Slugs & Snails

Whew. Glad I got that off my chest. {Thank you so much for your kind comments..really, really heartwarming}

In other news, I ate rice pudding for breakfast yesterday.

This is significant because rice pudding was not a popular treat in our home growing up. That is not to say that other families in America didn’t enjoy the benefits of this beautiful, creamy delight (but, umm..did they?) It’s just that our place was more of a chocolatey….butterscotchy…poppyseed-y kinda joint.

Having said that, I secretly always loved tapioca pudding. I enjoyed how you could feel the pearls of tapioca rice in each mouthful…how you could roll those velvety little lumps around in your mouth this-a-way and that-a-way and then try to bite down on just one pearl which never seemed to work. I guess you could say that I loved the very thing about tapioca that puts many people off: the lump factor.

When I moved to Ireland, it took me awhile to get used to the Irish repertoire of confections. In particular, I found it peculiar that jam is used to sweeten many desserts and sweet treats. Jam on scones. Jam on sponge. Jam donuts. Jammy Dodgers. And, of course, jam on rice pudding. I had been accustomed to thick, buttercream frostings or custard fillings as a conduit to the sweet.

I discovered the glory of rice pudding shortly after moving out to the farm. We ventured to a lovely inn for a family Sunday lunch and in between bites of my roast lamb and three versions of potatoes, I noticed the constant flow of rice pudding in fancy dessert glasses being carried out by serious waiters to various patrons in the dining room. When it came time to order our final course, my mother-in-law, Peggy, ordered the rice pudding and I followed suit. It came with a dab of raspberry jam and a dollop of freshly whipped cream. It was ravishing. And, suddenly, jam made sense.

This week I received a long-awaited, anxiously anticipated parcel from my friend, Heidi Skoog. Heidi is a florist in Minneapolis and now also purveyor of gorgeous jams and jellies which are aptly named, Serious Jam. I got to sample some of her new jams over the summer and instantly fell in love. I couldn’t resist ordering some from her website to have in our cupboard for the winter. And, I specifically couldn’t wait to for this jam to grace the top of a dainty glass of rice pudding.

I found out later that rice pudding is actually Peggy’s favorite {with Victoria Sponge a close second} although she only eats it when dining out.  I decided to bake up a batch in the morning (with a taste-test for brekkie) and bring it over to share over tea yesterday afternoon. Popped a sprig of rosemary in the baking dish and topped it off with Heidi’s violette + plum jam and a wee bit of cream and that is all that needs to be said.

Happy days.

Recipe is pretty standard. Here it is excerpted from a classic Irish secondary school cookery book, All In The Cooking.{Moderate oven = 300 F or 150 C}

Slan Abhaile,

Imen

Photos & Styling by Imen McDonnell. Jam by Serious Jam.

Tags: bastian skoog, farm, farmer, foodie, heidi skoog, I Married An Irish Farmer, Imen McDonnell, ireland, Irish, irish food, Irish food photography, love, rice pudding, Rosemary, serious jam

Isn’t flummery a wonderful word? I love the way it falls from the tongue…fl..fl..fl…flum…flummmmmery. I came across this recipe when I was digging for something different to do with the Kilbeggan Organic oats that I never got to use for my demo at Electric Picnic this year. {Boo Hurricane Irene}

We have been enjoying the beautiful porridge for brekky, but I wanted to do something really special to share these oaty gems here. And, after a weekend of inspiration following Savour Kilkenny and  The Great Irish Food Debate, which {for me} enlivened the celebration of truly traditional + historical cookery in Ireland, I couldn’t resist sharing this recipe. A classic flummery.

It is thought that flummery originated in the United Kingdom and made its way into Irish homes in the 18th century. Essentially, a flummery using oats or cornstarch was originally more or less a thickening agent which evolved into a sweet dessert thereafter.

So simple: toasted oats and almonds + honey and whiskey folded into thick, rich cream. These ingredients were available in the 18th century and commonly used for festive recipes. When I look back through my mother-in-law’s cookbooks and beyond, it is really incredible to see how creative the early tastemakers were with so very little ingredients on hand. Delicious. And gluten-free…perfect dinner party or Sunday lunch dessert.

Flummery

from Classic Irish Recipes by Georgina Campbell

Serves 4-6

1/3 cup almonds (sliced)

2 ounces Irish oats {or, if you are not in Ireland, any organic oats will do}

1 cup heavy cream

4 tablespoons honey

1/4 cup Irish whiskey

1 -2 cup berries (optional)

Toast the almonds and oatmeal in a pan until slightly browned. Set aside.

Whip the cream until smooth, but not stiff.

Warm the honey VERY slightly, so that it will run easily.

Fold the honey, whiskey, half of the toasted almonds & oatmeal, half the berries if using them into the cream.

Mix thoroughly, but lightly, and spoon into tall individual glasses.

Sprinkle the remaining almonds/oatmeal and berries on top.

Chill and Serve.

Slan Abhaile,

Imen

Photos and styling by Imen McDonnnell 2011

Tags: dessert, Farming, flummery, hone, I Married An Irish Farmer, Imen McDonnell, ireland, irish food, oats

I swore that I would not fall prey to copious imbibing of fish and chips. I distinctly remember putting it on a list of cons when making the decision to come and live in Ireland. “Con #6: Fish and Chip Consumption” I knew that it would be possible to give in to frequent “chipper runs” to the Pink Potato around the corner which would clearly be the demise of my yoga-fied figure that I had been so diligently been working on. We discussed it in detail. Made a plan. And I was convinced that I would not lay a hand on a fish and chip more than once or twice in a year.

Hooey.

For those of you who are Irish, fish and chips may be as ordinary and non-exciting as pork and beans would be to an American. But to me, (perhaps us?) it is nearly a delicacy. A luxury. At the very least, a treat. And of course, it tastes far different than any Friday Night Fish Fry I’ve ever encountered. Maybe it’s the malt vinegar drizzled over the top, maybe the Atlantic cod, or dare I say, maybe it’s the mushy peas that my husband puts on my plate when it accompanies an order of fish and chip at Doonbeg.  Maybe it’s because the fish from chippers comes wrapped in brown paper. Maybe it’s the cheese and garlic sauce that is sometimes on offer. Maybe it’s the batter that reminds me of all the battered goodness at the State Fair.

I don’t know. But, eating a fish and chip from time to time is simply unavoidable, if not totally unnatural.

It was not often that I would actually prepare a fish and chip dinner at home, because somehow, for me, doesn’t seem like the real thing unless you are ordering from a chipper or ordering it off the menu at someplace like this. But, since we moved out of Adare and onto the farm, I have taken to learning to make nearly everything from scratch here at home as it is less trouble than driving for three quarters of an hour for supper….especially if craving a fish and chip.

At some point, I decided it was time to create our own version of fish and chips here at home. Of course, I had to put a little American spin on it and add beer to the batter (for this post, I used a lovely new Irish craft Ale called Sunburnt Irish Red by 8 Degrees Brewing) which did not go astray, and, in fact, really boosted the flavor. I also add some freshly cut thyme or dill from our garden depending on the day.

But, the best bit is the chickpea chips (or frites if you’re fancy). Both farmers-little and big- regularly request them. The recipe is from an amazing restaurant in Napa Valley, CA called Ubuntu. These chips are somewhat time-consuming upfront, but well worth the trouble. Totally delicious and marginally more healthy than potatoes because chickpeas are protein packed.  In fact, you could make a meal out of the chickpea chips alone.

Our little boy has named this version of fish and chips, “Dunmoylan Fish & Chip” since our “chipper” is right here on the farm.  Add any Irish ale of your choosing and try the lemon aioli dipping sauce on the side if you please. (or vinegar, tartar… Ballymaloe relish goes great with the chickpea chips too!)

Irish Ale & Thyme Battered Fish

Ingredients (serves 4)

225g (1 1/2 cups) self-raising flour

1 egg, lightly whisked

375ml (1 1/2 cups) chilled light beer

Salt & freshly ground black pepper

Vegetable oil, to deep-fry

8 (about 120g each) white fish fillets (such as flathead or whiting)

Sea salt flakes, to serve

Lemon wedges, to serve

Place flour in a bowl. Add the egg and stir to combine. Gradually whisk in beer until batter is smooth. Season with salt and pepper. Cover and place in the fridge for 30 minutes to rest.

Add enough vegetable oil to a large saucepan to reach a depth of 8cm. Heat to 190°C over high heat (when oil is ready a cube of bread will turn golden brown in 10 seconds). Dip 2 pieces of fish, 1 at a time, into batter to coat. Drain off excess. Deep-fry for 3-4 minutes or until golden brown and cooked. Transfer to a plate lined with paper towel. Repeat, in 3 more batches, with remaining fish and batter, reheating oil between batches.

Chickpea Chips

Ingredients (Serves 4)

2 1/2 cups chickpea flour , plus more for dusting (avail at natural foods stores)

1 cup cornmeal (maize meal in Ireland)

2 cloves garlic , finely grated

3 Tbsp. kosher salt , plus more to taste

1/4 cup chopped parsley

1 Tbsp. chopped rosemary

Zest of 2 lemons

Vegetable oil , for frying

In a stainless steel pot over high heat, combine chickpea flour, cornmeal, 7 cups of cold water, garlic, and salt. Whisk gently to prevent sticking on the bottom; over-whisking will cause the final product to “soufflé” and fall.

Once the mixture begins to thicken and bubble (after about 3 to 4 minutes), reduce heat to medium and switch to a rubber spatula. Add remaining ingredients except oil, stir to combine, and continue stirring to prevent sticking. When mixture pulls from the sides of the pot like a dough (after about 6 to 8 minutes), transfer it to a rimmed sheet pan lined with nonstick aluminum foil. Spread mixture out evenly, cover with a sheet of plastic wrap, and top with another sheet pan. Refrigerate for 4 hours until completely cold and set.

Carefully remove mixture from pan by gently lifting the bottom layer of aluminum foil onto a cutting board. Remove plastic wrap, then cut into “fries” about 3 inches long.

Heat oil in a large pot to 190°C over high heat (when oil is ready a cube of bread will turn golden brown in 10 seconds).  Toss fries lightly in additional cornmeal, and deep-fry them in small batches until crispy, about 3 minutes. Remove and set on paper towels. Sprinkle with kosher salt to taste and serve with lemon garlic aioli.

Lemon Aioli

1/2 cup mayonnaise

1 clove garlic, minced

½ tsp lemon zest

3 tablespoons lemon juice

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

In a medium bowl, mix all the ingredients together.

Serve as dipping sauce.

And…drum roll please…the winner of the Farmhouse Cheeses of Ireland book drawing is: Tim Magnuson. Tim, please email your mailing address to me at imen.producer@ireland.com so I can send the book out to you straight away! A big, big thank you to everyone for participating in my first ‘official’ book giveaway. There will be more to come, promise! xx

Slan Abhaile,

Imen

Photos and styling by Imen McDonnell. For more food styling + photography work, please contact me at imen.producer@ireland.com.

Tags: 8 Degrees Brewing, Adare, ale, Chickpea frites, cod, Doonbeg, Farming, Fish and chips, I Married An Irish Farmer, Imen McDonnell, ireland, irish food, lemon aioli, pork and beans

Warning! Spoiler Alert

This post contains approx. 500,000 calories

Perhaps I need to write more about the drab weather in Ireland because since my last posting the weather has been absolutely gorgeous! Blue skies and sun for 4 full days so far. I must say, this makes life here so much more agreeable.
One really nice thing about living on an Irish farm is the “farm dinner” as it is affectionately known here by people-both country dwellers and city folks alike. Farm dinners usually consist of a large plate of tender roasted meat–possibly beef, lamb, pork, chicken or ham; a couple portions of soft, buttery, vegetables, namely cabbage, carrots, peas, brussels sprouts, broccoli, cauliflower… and of course, some form of potato–typically boiled in their jackets or mashed. Pretty standard stuff, but exquisitely delicious and totally comforting (and sustaining)….especially on a gray, rainy Irish day. My mother-in-law, Peggy, still insists on lovingly cooking these massive dinners for “the men” (her sons, husband, farm apprentices and whoever else drops in at a moment’s notice) each and every single day. She is truly a saint. Of course, I’d love to join them each day, but try not to overdo it, as I would only be adding more work for her and more inches around my waist. When I do have lunch at the farm I will usually bring a dessert to share…they especially love my rhubarb/berry cobbler and the All-American Angelfood cake with cream and berries. Sometimes I will bake a flourless chocolate cake, which always goes over well too. There is always a slice of something for dessert and a cup of tea with sweetmeal biscuits (cookies) after dinner. These biscuits are called “digestives” because they were once thought to have antacid properties…this clarification works for me, as these little shortbread-y cookies, which are not too sweet, are remarkably delectable. And addicting. And basically, my weight-loss arch nemesis.
At the end of the day, the supper or the “tea” as it is commonly referred to as, is served. Tea occurs at the farm at around 630PM and may consist of a light sandwich or a “country salad” of boiled egg with mayonnaise, tomato slices and cole slaw with a slice of brown soda bread. The odd smoked salmon or a “fry” which is like a mini Irish breakfast is also a possibility. A cup of tea or two is compulsory. Thus, the big meal on the farm (and in many Irish homes) is dinner or lunch, which is probably better for you than our big American heavy supper in the evening and a light lunch at noon. Still, I have yet to fully embrace the tea concept and I tend to make a substantial family evening meal each night. Luckily, there have been no complaints, but I am sure that eventually we will transition to this style of eating.
During the holidays we take our meals in the formal dining room in the main farmhouse. Peggy has this wonderful mid-century modern, heated hostess trolley and dessert cart. We have the same indispensable and lavish menu for each big holiday gathering. The menu reads like this: Prawn cocktail with Mary-Rose sauce for a starter, and then a rustic, creamy soup followed by the main entrée. She will usually prepare a goose for one the holidays with her special potato stuffing, along with mashed potatoes, potato croquettes, 2-3 vegetables, a bread dressing and gravy. Yes, there are 3 different potato preparations listed there. Each plate is pre-made, designed with each tasty element, sized appropriately and waiting patiently in the trolley for its assigned dinner guest. After the main course, there will be 5 or 6 desserts to choose from as well as ice creams galore. A boozy trifle, a plucky plum pudding, a delicate pavlova with fresh berries and cream, a twice-frosted chocolate gateaux and some other kind of wonderful sweet treat. You are required to try a little of each on your plate and you don’t mind. By that time, you’re drunk with food (and possibly wine) and your defenses are most certainly down. After all those desserts, would you believe the “after dinner” chocolates are brought out? Why yes, indeed…After Eight chocolate mints and Chocolate Liqueurs to linger over accompanied by tea to sip (or just more wine if you’re me). I am sure you can make out that there isn’t a lot of moving around after these feasts. This type of banquet is not just taking place at our farm, but in homes all around the country. It’s like for one day everyone receives a permission slip from God to commit one the seven deadly sins: Gluttony!
Being a breakfast person, the piece de résistance for me is The Full Irish Breakfast. Eggs, sausages, rashers (bacon, thick cut and very lean), sautéed mushrooms and tomato halves, baked beans, and black and white puddings with toast. Not that I eat the puddings, but still, something about all of rest is just fully satisfying to me. Puddings, forgive me, taste like what I can only imagine a scab would taste like. And rightly so-they are basically dried blood. But enough of that—Richard makes THE BEST Irish breakfast ever. Him, the Shannon Airport restaurant and BIA in Adare-sheer perfection. Yummy, scrummy and positively del-ish.
Irish stew, seafood chowders, fresh fish with exquisitely prepared velvety sauces, slow roasted, melt-in-your mouth roasts covered with creative reductions, sticky toffee pudding, Banoffee pie, bakewell tarts with cream and a persimmon on the side, a beautiful glazed ham sandwich or a Ploughman’s with pickles and chutney, a filet mignon that you can cut with a butter knife, flavourful roasted parsnips and swede, chocolate biscuit cake, raspberry roulade, savoury Shepard’s pie or Fisherman’s Pie, honey and lemon glazed turnips that taste like mango, cranberry/mushroom/nut filo parcels, spicy curries….a mother’s simple stuffed chicken. From the fancy Mustard Seed in Ballingarry or the distinguished Chapter One in Dublin to delightful organic lunches at the Avoca cafe or an inventive vegetarian dish at Ciaran’s….even a simple tasty fish n chip from chippers ‘round the country: you are definitely spoilt for choice.
Without question, and contrary to popular belief, Irish food is fabulous….from farm dinners to high-priced gourmet meals. It seems that all Irish chefs, professional and domestic, have a way with food…they prepare it with love, a love you can most certainly taste.

Slainte,

Imen

Tags: country life, farm cooking, irish cooking, irish food, irish restaurants, modern girl