The first time I heard the word Blaa, pronounced “Blah”, I was instantly reminded of our good friend, Gregory. Gregory is a talented screenwriter who has a magnificent way with words, yet in conversation, is quite fond of trailing off his sentences with an endearing “blah blah blah” while still managing to be a charming intellectual. When you move to another country, these are just the types of nuances you miss…the little things…..the blah blah blahs.

The Irish Blaa is a gorgeous yeast bread roll which originated in County Waterford, and is anything but blah. It is the only indigenous Irish yeast roll in existence, and is used primarily as a filled sandwich. After trying a Blaa in Dungarvan a few years ago and loving the flavour and texture, I was thrilled to find the recipe in Niamh Shield’s brilliant cookery book, Comfort & Spice. And just so you know, yes, the dough takes its sweet time to be oven ready, and, yes, it is well worth the wait because these rolls are really some kind of wonderful.

I recently learned that the Waterford Blaa is being considered for the status of European Protected Geographical Integrity that will prevent any similar products produced outside of Waterford being given the same name. The Waterford native Blaa differentiates from a regular bap due to the dusting of flour on top before baking. The Blaa is also free of any preservatives, which means many of the reported 12,000 Blaas produced daily are consumed by Waterford City by lunchtime.

If the EU protected status is achieved, each bakery producing Blaas will under go an annual verification process, which will include a thorough traceability of all ingredients and an inspection of the production method involved in producing the Blaa. Furthermore, The Blaa will be only one of five Irish food products enjoying such status.

We used our freshly baked rolls to make baby Blaas sliders for supper last night which brought a smile to everyone sitting ’round the farmtable…

Niamh’s Blaa recipe from Comfort & Spice

Makes 8 Rolls

10g active dried yeast

10g caster (superfine) sugar

500g extra strong white flour, plus more for dusting

10g sea salt

10g unsalted butter

Dissolve the yeast and sugar in 275ml lukewarm water. Ensure that the water is warm, not cold or hot. Leave for 10 minutes. It should get nice and frothy, indicating that the yeast is alive and well.

Sift together the flour and salt, to introduce air. Rub in the butter. Add the wet to the dry ingredients and mix until combined. Knead for about 10 minutes, until the dough is smooth and elastic. It will go from rough to shiny.

Place in a bowl, cover with cling film, and leave in a warm place for45 minutes. Remove from the bowl and knock back , pushing the air out the dough. Rest for 15 minutes, to give the gluten time to relax; this will make shaping easier.

Divide the dough into eight pieces. Roll each piece into a ball. Rest for five minutes more, covered.

Dust a baking dish with flour and place in the balls, side by side. Dredge with flour. Leave in a warm place for 50 minutes. Nearly there! Preheat oven to 210/410f/gas mark 6.5. Dredge the blaas with flour for a final time and bake for 15-20 minutes.

Slan Abhaile,

Imen

Photos and Styling by Imen McDonnell 2012

Tags: Blaas, Comfort and Spice, farm, Farming, foodie, I Married An Irish Farmer, Imen McDonnell, ireland, Irish, Irish food photography, married a farmer, Niamh Shields, sliders, Waterford

Mmmmmmm mini-donuts, one of life’s greatest indulgences….and one of my greatest weaknesses!

I must say that I imbibed my fair share of donuts this summer in the States. Many of which came from a little food truck called Chef Shack at the Kingfield Market on a Saturday morning..or two…or three… These special donuts were tossed in the most perfect mystery sugar mixture which they defined as Indian. “Indian Spiced Donuts” to be exact. Myself and the little farmer got on famously with these little delights.

So, it should come as no surprise that as I was preparing to attend the Irish Food Board’s {Bord Bia} food bloggers workshop last week, I decided on trying my hand at making donuts to share with everyone. I wanted to go for a raised + baked variety to be a little less sinful, but still had fun with the spices..adding in a little Swedish/Morroccan love to the mix. In the end, I wasn’t able to make the blogger’s event, but the donuts sure were a big hit here at the farm!

I had fresh home-made butter on hand {practising for my GIY Gathering demo on the weekend} which I think went a long way for the flavour and they turned out just divine without being deep-fried.

Here’s the recipe, give em a try!

Ingredients:

1 1/3 or 300 ml cups warm milk

1 packet active dry yeast (2 1/4 teaspoons)


2 tablespoons butter


2/3 cup or 85 g sugar


2 eggs


5 cups or 750 g all-purpose (cream) flour

A pinch or two of nutmeg


1 teaspoon fine grain sea salt

To Toss:

1/2 cup or 120 g unsalted butter, melted


1 ½ cups or 375 g caster sugar


1 ½ tbsp cinnamon

1 tsp ground cardamom

1 tsp ground ginger

½ tsp ground star anise

½ tsp  ground cloves

pinch of black pepper

Place 1/3 cup (80ml) of the warm milk in the bowl of an electric mixer. Stir in the yeast and set aside for five minutes or so. Be sure your milk isn’t too hot or it will kill the yeast. Stir the butter and sugar into the remaining cup of warm milk and add it to the yeast mixture. With a fork, stir in the eggs, flour, nutmeg, and salt – just until the flour is incorporated. With the dough hook attachment of your mixer beat the dough for a few minutes at medium speed. If your dough is overly sticky, add flour a few tablespoons at a time. If dry, add more milk a bit at a time. You want the dough to pull away from the sides of the mixing bowl and eventually become supple and smooth. Turn it out onto a floured counter-top, knead a few times (the dough should be barely sticky), and shape into a ball.

Transfer the dough to a buttered (or oiled) bowl, cover, put in a warm place and let rise for an hour or until the dough has roughly doubled in size.

Punch down the dough and roll it out 1/2-inch thick on your floured countertop. Stamp out donut circles with donut cutter. (you can also use round cookie cutters or press dough into mini donut baking tray) Transfer the circles to a parchment-lined baking sheet and stamp out the smaller inner circles using smaller cutter. If you cut the inner holes out any earlier, they become distorted when you attempt to move them. Cover with a clean cloth and let rise for another 45 minutes.

Bake in a 375F/190C degree oven until the bottoms are just golden, 8 to 10 minutes – start checking around 8. While the doughnuts are baking, place the butter in a medium bowl. Place the spice mix in a separate bowl.

Remove the doughnuts from the oven and let cool for just a minute or two. Dip each one in the melted butter and a quick toss in the sugar bowl. Eat sooner than later.

 Makes 4 dozen mini doughnuts or 2 dozen regular sized 

Slan Abhaile,

Tags: baked donuts. Irish, Bord Bia, chef shack, Farming, food, foodie, Imen McDonnell, Indian spice doughnuts, ireland, Irish food photography, kingfield market, married a farmer, mini donuts

Foreward: Often people ask just how exactly myself and himself met, so I thought it would be handy if I put together a little series of posts laying out the low-down with as many details as can tastefully be shared. If you are not into sappy love stories, I’d give it a skip.

As you may have guessed by now, I was not e-x-a-c-t-l-y the kind of girl who dreamed of breaking away and living a grow-it-yourself-country-life complete with the strapping fella and the charming beat-up Land Rover. In fact, I had never even been on a real working farm in my life and outside of “roughing it” in a rustic cabin with friends for a weekend, I wasn’t much for spending time outside of the city. Five years later, I have developed a true fondness for country living and all things farm. But the truth is, when I fell in love and made the decision to move to Ireland and marry my farmer, I hadn’t a clue what I was in for and just how different life would become….(insert Green Acres theme here)

I met my dashing farmer {MDF} when he was visiting the United States one particularly freezing week in February. It was his second visit this Twin City in the American Midwest. He had come to visit a childhood mate who had moved to the USA after secondary school. On the evening we were introduced, I hadn’t wanted to go out, but I was persuaded by a girlfriend who was desperate for a fun night after a long week at work. I wasn’t feeling the best that day, so I prettied myself up as nice as I could and got on with it, as you do.

We were having cocktails with some others at a stylish downtown lounge when my farmer breezed past our group, turned his head and shot us a smile. As he was waiting for his drink order from the bar, my friend starting chatting with him. He was handsome and by the lilt in his voice, I noted that he was clearly not from the USA though I couldn’t quite place his accent. With sandy hair, light complexion and high cheekbones I passed him off for Scandinavian, as a good majority of the population in the area are descended from that gorgeous part of the world.

As the night unfolded, our two little groups became one and we all moved to another place to see some live music.  MDF* had overheard in conversation that I loved champagne and secretly ordered a fabulous bottle to share when we arrived. I was impressed. As the others trailed off in conversation and dance, we found ourselves at the table alone and began to get to know one another. He revealed that he lived on an 18^th Century farm in the Irish countryside {not Norwegian as I had suspected}, had a degree in philosophy {Wowsers. Kant, Hobbes, Plato were impossible for me to get my head around in my studies } and his star sign was Aquarius {as is mine}. I warmed to him. Though I occasionally found it hard to understand his thick Irish brogue, he had no shortage of charming and funny stories, which kept me in stitches all evening long.

At the end of the night, he said he would only be in town for a few more days and asked if I would join him for dinner the following evening. Somewhat reluctantly, I agreed, and he told me to choose my favorite place. We exchanged phone numbers and went our separate ways.

Early the next morning he texted me to say he was looking forward to our dinner. I was still not sure if I really wanted to go, I just wasn’t keen on romance at the time. Happily busy with a creative career that kept me working and traveling globally, I had convinced myself that I had no time or energy to put into developing a rewarding relationship. Still, he was awfully handsome and really quite charismatic, so despite my hang–ups, I agreed on the stipulation that my bubbly Aussie friend and her lovely husband would join us. After all, a girl can never be too careful, right?

We met at a lovely new restaurant that had been getting rave reviews. When I first saw him all refreshed, pressed and dressed, I confess to feeling a tinge of excitement in my tummy. I introduced him to my friends and the conversation flowed all night long. The food was outstanding and we were having a brilliant time. I will never forget the perma-grin that I was sporting from ear to ear all night. At the end of the meal, MDF excused himself and discreetly paid the entire bill. Totally unnecessary, but clearly chivalry was not dead to him, and I very much respected that. Later that evening he privately told me it was his birthday. I marveled at his modesty, as such information would have certainly been divulged during dinner had it been me.

He was planning to return to Ireland on Valentine’s Day and inquired, “so, tell me, who is going to be your sweetheart this year?” I demurely replied, “why, my dad, of course”.  When I arrived at my office on the morning of his departure, I was greeted with an enormous bouquet of beautiful flowers and a card that read, “Well, you’re my Valentine”.

I swooned.

End of Part One

Slan Abhaile,

Imen

*My Dashing Farmer

Photo courtesy of Farmette

Tags: farm, farmette, Imen McDonnell, ireland, Irish, love story, married a farmer, valentine's day

No doubt you’ve heard about the quintessential Full Irish Breakfast. In fact, I previously wrote a blog post detailing out the various delicious elements of this famous breakfast platter which you can read here. While the Full Irish is magnificent and reknowned, I couldn’t help but want to share what I like to call our “Demi Irish Breakfast” which is basically what we routinely eat for the weekday breakfast here on the farm as do many other Irish families around the country. Sure, my husband can fry up a mean full Irish on a Sunday morning for us-always a treat-but we also love the simplicity of a boiled egg in cup with a slice of toast and a pot of jam on the side.

I remember my mother-in-law offering this one morning when I was visiting before moving to Ireland. I just thought it was so special and sweet. Of course, we don’t use eggcups at home and hers were dainty stainless steel cups which had gotten a lot of use over the years and had a little patina to them. In the photo you will see one of her egg spoons. It’s a combination of a tiny butter knife and a spoon, perfect for cutting the egg across and spooning out the egg. You’d have a hard time finding those in shops anymore, though they are the perfect design.

I love this breakfast because I am an egg-white only girl and I can scoop out the yolk (hand it over to hubs) and eat the rest. It’s fun to cut the toast into strips or “soldiers” as they are called here for the children to dip into the yolk of a soft boiled egg. We tend to have full slices with bitter orange marmalade or raspberry preserves, but many families I know serve the sweet little “soldiers” with their eggs and love the dippity dipping.

Why not try a charming little Demi Irish Breakfast this weekend?

Slan Abhaile,

Imen

Photo by Imen McDonnell

Tags: egg cup, food, foodie, full irish breakfast, ireland, marmalade, married a farmer, raspberry jam

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