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

Each October, Ireland welcomes the tradition of baking Barm Brack, a fruit-filled tea bread. This sweet tea bread was traditionally eaten on Halloween, when a token is baked into it to be used as a form of fortune-telling. The eater may find a ring (predicting impending marriage); a button or thimble (portents of bachelor or spinsterhood respectively); or a coin, (presaging wealth). In earlier, less sensitive times, items may have included a rag or dried pea, (for poverty); or a matchstick, (for an abusive spouse). These days, the tokens aren’t always included, but the tradition of eating brack at Halloween remains. {if you buy a brack at the supermarket or bakery that is labelled “Halloweeen Brack” there still will be a ring or another piece hidden inside}

As I have noted before, my magnificent mother-in-law still insists on preparing an enormous roast lunch with plenty of boiled potatoes, gravy and fresh vegetables for everyone who is working each day. There is always a hot cup of tea afterwards and something sweet like an apple tart baked on a plate or a fruity brack to accompany . Often, she will make one of her favorites, “Railway Cake”, which is basically a tea brack that is bespeckled with black currants (each currant symbolizing a train stop, of course).

In the spirit of Autumn on our farm, I would like to share the “Farmer’s Sunday Cake”, which is essentially a Barm Brack risen with soda instead of yeast. It could also be considered a dressed-up version of Peggy’s Railway Cake. I like it fresh out of the oven in the morning with a little butter and a cappuccino, but most would have it with a cup of afternoon tea.

I know everyone on the farm will love a loaf of this today and I hope you will enjoy it too…

Farmer’s Sunday Cake

From” The Country Cooking of Ireland” by Colman Andrews

6 ¼ cups/625 g white flour

1 tsp baking soda

1 tsp cream of tartar

1 cup/200 g sugar

¾ cup/170 g butter, softened. Plus more for greasing

1 cup/150 g sultanas {golden raisins}

1 cup/150 g dried currants

2 tbsp candied orange or lemon peel finely chopped

Grated zest of 1/2 lemon

2 farm fresh free range eggs, beaten

2 ½ to 3 cups/600-720 ml buttermilk

Preheat oven to 450 F/230 c {Gas mark 8}

Lightly grease 2 loaf pans

Sift flour, baking soda, cream of tartar, and sugar together into a large bowl and mix well..

Rub butter into the flour mixture with your hands until the mixture resembles course bread crumbs. Add sultanas, currants, orange or lemon peel and lemon zest. Mix well.

Make a well in the center of the flour mixture and pour in the eggs and 2 ½ cups/600 ml of the buttermilk. Stir liquid into the flour mixture, working in a spiral motion from the middle toward the sides of the bowl, and adding a bit more buttermilk if necessary to make a moist but cohesive batter. Do not overmix.

Spoon batter into the loaf pans and bake for 15 minutes. Reduce over temperature to 400 F/200 C {Gas mark 6} and bake for 20-30 minutes longer.

Slan Abhaile,

Imen

Photo by Imen McDonnell. Assisted by Master Geoffrey McDonnell

Tags: Barm Brack, brack, Colman Andrews, food, foodie, Halloween, ireland, Married an Irish Farmer, tea

The first time someone saluted me on the road it actually startled me. You see, it was one of those pointy, fingertip salutes whereby the person wags their finger a wee bit as if, in my mind, to say, “hey, you shouldn’t do that”.  I immediately checked to make sure I was driving on the right side of the road, which I was (for a change) and then I tried to mentally devise what I could have possibly been doing wrong. Soon another car came racing by and did the same action, which further boosted my anxiety. After 5 more cars and 4 pointy salutes (btw, I was in Tipperary and I rarely see this type of salute in our neck of the woods…we seem to have a lot of hand waves and head nods) I finally arrived at my destination. I immediately described this strange behaviour to my friends and, after a laugh at my expense, they explained that sure, it was merely a polite way to acknowledge you and say hello.

This is rural hospitality. And I am struck by it. Now, it is not to be mixed up with urban hospitality, i.e. scribbling “wash me please” on a dirty car or graciously keeping your head down on the subway. No, saluting and a few other lovely gestures are a true callback to times past…where being a decent and helpful person was simply a selfless act of kindness. Not saying that city dwellers are inhospitable, I won’t generalize-but I can’t claim to have ever been saluted in this way by a driver in L.A., NYC or MPLS. Unless, of course, you consider flipping a certain centrally located finger or sounding a wailing horn the same thing.

Calling in for a cup of tea unannounced is another one of those courteous gestures. Where we live you will always hear of “so and so” calling over to “so and so’s” for a warm cuppa and a chat to catch up on all the latest gossip (funerals, pregnancies, the priest and the weather, for example). Around here it still is nearly as much a ritual as going to church every Sunday. On the other hand, where I come from in the USA, the door doesn’t get answered unless it is known in advance whom the caller may be and what exactly they want with you. It is practically considered to be rude or perhaps even sneaky to pop by unannounced. You’d have to nearly “book in” at least a day in advance and declare your intentions for the visit with someone even as close as your best girlfriend. These are two extremes and at this stage I fall nicely into the middle.

Give me a ring to make sure I am home, and I will be happy to see you.

And if I drive past you on the road, I will salute.

Slan Abhaile,

Imen

Tags: country, cuppa, farm, hospitality, ireland, irish farmer, LA, marriage, NYC, tea

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

Our dear son, Geoffrey, is technically Irish because he was born in Ireland. But naturally I had to make sure that he would legally be both Irish and American. (You’d be amazed at how patriotic you become when you move out of your home country.) Being pragmatic, I immediately requested an American birth certificate and then applied for a USA passport so now he has 2 passports and 2 birth certs. He is fortunate to have dual citizenship and I hope he will take full advantage of all the wonderful opportunities that this will afford him.  Of course, I practically have him admitted to Harvard or Yale on a full scholarship straight after his Irish secondary schooling (and on the crew team, no less)

It’s fascinating to observe both his Irish and American characteristics as he grows up.  The best of the Irish traits has to be his absolute LOVE of tea. He simply loves to sip cups of tea with loads of milk and copious amounts of sugar cubes, “mommy, mommy, mommy, can I have a cream tea?” It started when he was about 2 and now he will have a cup of tea nearly every afternoon on it’s own or with a queen cake (i.e. yummy cupcake with buttercream frosting in the middle) or possibly a slice of brown bread with butter and raspberry jam. It is all very dramatic, he insists on doing it all on his own–boiling the tea kettle, steeping the tea in the teapot, putting milk into the tiny milk pouring cup, bringing over the dainty little brown sugar cubes, his distinctive porcelain cup & saucer and special teaspoon.  I suppose he picked this up from everyone around him, but I personally think it’s innate because I don’t drink tea and I don’t ever remember small children taking up coffee drinking like our parents in the States….in fact, just the opposite, my friends and I thought that coffee was the most disgusting smelling, bitter tasting thing ever and could not fathom how anyone could bear to drink it. No, I think his fondness for tea is part of his Irish-ness and it’s just the sweetest thing.  Plus, it’s great way to get more milk into his tummy.

On the other hand, he cannot live without mac-n-cheese. And by mac-n-cheese, I mean that all-American, orange-coloured, boxed-up, macaroni and cheese. We have to stock up on Annie’s Organic each trip to the States because you can’t get anything like it here. I’ve tried to make it from scratch and it just doesn’t cut the mustard..something about that salty orange powdered cheese is wondrous to him I guess.  One of his all time favorite lunches is a hot dog with mac and cheese. Doesn’t get more American than that!

When it comes to potatoes..he is still on the fence. Sometimes he’ll eat mashed potatoes, but dislikes chips (french fries), baked, boiled, fried, hashbrowned or cold potatoes. He will eat the odd crisp (chip), but is not really crazy about them either. I swore I heard him mention the South Beach Diet on one occasion, but he vehemently denied it when I asked him to clarify. Dislike of potatoes=Clearly American.  But, the Irish in him will trump that by the fact that he absolutely hates peanut butter. Yes, indeed, we are a “no PBJ household”. I still find that unbelievable. I’ve tried and tried but can’t get him to eat a peanut butter and jelly sammy, or just plain peanut butter, reeses peanut butter cups or pieces, monkey munch, ants on a log, Nutter Butter cookies, nothing! He completely loathes the taste and texture of it. It’s really disappointing because it’s a good protein packed snack or lunch option that all my American mommy friends can rely on. Perhaps I should give Nutella a try…we’ll see.

I will be off next week for a girly trip to Paris. Geoffrey has asked me to bring back some new teas for him to try and I will most certainly oblige, a’ Mariage Freres!

Slainte,

Imen

Tags: American, Annie's Organic, Harvard, Irish, mac-n-cheese, Nutella, Nutter Butter, paris, peanut butter, tea, USA, Yale