In Praise of a Rainy Day

I can't be the only person out there who really loves a rainy day. These run the range of those grey, mizzly days, the torrential downpour ones, and even (or maybe especially) the stormy, windy, rain lashing against the window ones. Perhaps this stems from my deep rooted laziness; I mean, what could possibly be better than sitting in a squishy chair reading or watching a movie with the rain pouring down outside? It's practically an excuse to loll around and do nothing, and that is a-ok with me. My favourite things to watch on rainy days are usually old tv boxsets, which are practically the only dvds I own; favourites include Sherlock Holmes with Jeremy Brett (my personal favourite Holmes), and, major guilty pleasure territory, Sharpe, with Sean Bean. I lately managed to watch the entire Pride and Prejudice series (you know, the one with Colin Firth and the wet tunic Jennifer Ehle) in one sitting, and it runs into 6 hours. So clearly, I've got the laziness aspect down.

But there are so many other things I love about a rain soaked day; pottering about the kitchen, maybe braising something, maybe baking something, enjoying the aromas of home and comfort. Reading some classic literature or a mystery novel, or currently a mixture of the two, in the shape of Bleak House. Turning my attention to a task which a sunny day is likely to distract me from, like finally sorting through years of photos, or reading all of the newspaper supplements I didn't get around to on Sunday. And, should you find yourself absolutely in need of venturing out into the elements, try to see the (proverbial) sunny side. Donning a raincoat and walking in the rain can be a pleasure in itself; the pelting sensation on your umbrella, a sprinkling of rain on your face, and then the coming into a warm, dry indoors, shaking off and having a restorative cup of tea, making it all worthwhile. One of my most memorable holiday moments was walking along the Seine from Notre Dame Cathedral to the Musee d'Orsay in Paris in the middle of an electrical storm with a torrential downpour; watching the rain make angry, muscular splashes in the wide, elegant river, taking shelter under the red awning of a streetside cafe, admiring the great works of Lautrec and Degas accompanied by a sense of taking shelter from the elements - so romantic! So Paris!

Closer to the everyday, my favourite time to be on a beach is with rain coming down, the sea restless and turbulent, wind whipping around. It's the perfect cure for the cotton wool feeling of an overtaxed brain, for blowing away mental cobwebs, and it is wonderfully uplifting the morning after a few too many glasses of wine. And there is something so wonderful about the landscape after a rainstorm; the grass seems lusher and greener, the sun seems to shine brighter, there is a feeling that the world has been washed and is clean and fresh again.

I don't know if my precipitation love is a self-protective measure arising from the almost perpetually wet and damp Irish climate, or just a strange perversion which I can’t explain, but I do encourage you to treat yourself to a proper lazy rainy afternoon at the next opportunity. Being a particularly lashy, windy, day here today I made a batch of chocolate chip cookies and watched several episodes of The Good Life, appreciating both that, without really realising it, my life is starting to look an awful lot like that of the Good’s, and also that I am utterly defenceless against Felicity Kendal’s charms. And if you happen to be somewhere dry and sunny but still want to indulge, why then, you can always fake it.

Rock Lobster: Further Adventures in Free Food

Although there are lots of things I miss about living in a city; like access to bars and cinemas and live music, second hand bookstores, great bakeries and coffee houses, and places to get brunch, among others, I can’t say that I ever look out my window or step outside and don’t love being in the country. There may be less brunching, but there are wonderful things too, like seeing the buttery orb of a full moon against the inky night sky, without the rude interruption of streetlights, the undiluted sounds of rustling leaves and birdsong, and even something so simple as growing your own food. It’s just another way of living, with its own quirks and appeals.

One of these quirks which I am getting used to again is the countryside barter system. For instance, a friend of my family’s grows a lot of rhubarb in her garden, so this Spring she gave us bags of it, which I used to make lots of cakes and jam, some of which I send her way. Another keeps chickens and is always in need of egg cartons, so we stack ours up and keep them for her, and then every so often she brings us a dozen of lovely fresh free range eggs; with their bright orange yolks and still bearing the traces of the farmyard, they’re a million miles away from the uniform white eggs of intensive rearing.

There are also lots of great exchanges to be had when a member of your family is involved in rural sports. My father happens to be an angler, and lately the gift of a few trout to a neighbour brought a really unique exchange: two fresh lobsters. I have seen lobster crawling around in tanks in restaurants before, but this was the first time I have ever seen them up close, and fresh from the sea. They scuttled around on the draining board as I tried to find a suitably gigantic pot, and then get lots of heavily salted water up to a lukewarm temperature. Then it was time to, carefully and avoiding contact with pincers, lower little Lenny and Louis into the water and pop on the lid. I was very aware of the scene from Julie and Julia, where the lobster makes an escape attempt from the cooking pot, but my guys were clearly less spirited as they stayed put.

I gave them about 25 minutes boiling time as they were about 2lb each, but in any case you can tell that they’re cooked when the shells are completely bright red with no hint of blue. Once they were cool enough to handle, and with the occasional aid of a hammer, we extracted all of the meat from the body and claws.

I’m afraid that when it came time to eat everyone was too excited, and it all disappeared so fast, that I neglected to take any photos. In any case, I tossed the lobster meat in lots of melted butter on a frying pan, with a little fresh thyme and some lemon juice, and then piled it up on brown toast. It was absolutely delicious, and free to boot. Now, to find some friends who are truffle hunters..

Recipe time!: Elderflower Champagne

A little while ago I mentioned that elderflowers were in bloom all over the hedgerows here at the moment; their little star like flowers grow in cheerful profusion, and they smell beautifully sweet and floral. Inspired by Darina Allen’s wonderful Forgotten Skills of Cooking, I decided to give my own elderflower fizz a go. Theoretically this blend of water, sugar, lemon juice, vinegar, and elderflowers will transform into a sweet and bubbly champagne-ish drink after fermenting in well sealed, sterilised bottles for about two weeks. I tried mine exactly two weeks later, and it was feeling a little lively, but still somewhat flat. I’ll give it another week and see if that improves matters.

It’s pretty much the end of the elderflower season now, but if there’s a tree near you which still has lovely big blooms, which smell sweet and don’t lose petals when gently shaken, give it a go for yourself.


This recipe is from Darina Allen's weekly letter of June 26 2010, available in it's original here

Elderflower Champagne

This magical recipe transforms perfectly ordinary ingredients into a delicious sparkling drink. The children make it religiously every year and then share the bubbly with their friends.

2 heads of elderflowers
560g (11/4lb) sugar
2 tablespoons white wine vinegar
4.5L (8pints) water
1 lemon
Remove the peel from the lemon with a swivel top peeler. Pick the elderflowers in full bloom. Put into a bowl with the lemon peel, lemon juice, sugar, vinegar and cold water. Leave for 24 hours, and then strain into strong screw top bottles. Lay them on their sides in a cool place. After 2 weeks it should be sparkling and ready to drink. Despite the sparkle this drink is non-alcoholic.
The bottles need to be strong and well sealed; otherwise the Elderflower champagne will pop its cork.

The Little Things

I must apologise, I have been a little bit remiss in my blogging duties of late. This is probably due to the general malaise I’ve been feeling the past few weeks, a sort of persistent ennui which is very unlike my usual temperament. I think this condition is pretty common in Ireland these days; there is really high unemployment, which has left a lot of skilled and talented people with nothing to do except sit around the house all day drinking tea, eating digestive biscuits and watching E4. (Other people are doing that, right?) The thing is, that sounds like my perfect day off, or a brilliant lazy Sunday, but these are special precisely because they’re a break from regular duties. Doing it all the time is much less awesome, and sometimes it feels like the gulf between never needing to get out of my pyjamas and living in a way which is fun and vibrant and worthwhile is growing insurmountably huge. Hence the malaise. But melancholy, like anything else, can become a habit if left unchecked, and I am doing all I can to get back on the wagon. One thing which is making me feel better is watching my little garden grow. (pictured below) I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing, but so far everything has grown and nothing has died, so I reckon I’m on the right track.

Another is to take advantage of the loveliness of where I live by walking a lot, keeping an eye on the sheep population and the progress of this year’s apple crop at a local orchard.

They may be small things, but at least they’re keeping me sane, and hopefully, when I am back in the business of regular day to day life again, I will be better equipped to deal with those inevitable times of feeling a little bit lost.

What do you do to deal with those lost-at-sea feelings?

Recipe Time! Apple and Raspberry Pie

Baking a pie must be one of the most satisfying experiences in the world. There is a careful craft to making the pastry; it’s not exactly difficult, but it takes practice, and an understanding of your ingredients. Cold butter, cold water, or, going against all other baking protocol, an egg straight from the fridge. You must work quickly in rubbing the butter into the flour until it golden and finely crumbed in texture. Add the icy liquid and combine quickly, quickly, until it just comes together into one piece. Now refrigerate to let the dough relax, I usually give it about 30 minutes at this stage, wrapped in clingfilm. After following a tip from a Rachel Allen book, I now roll my pastry between two sheets of clingfilm, it saves a lot of floury mess (both on the countertop and my clothes), then line my tin, and pop back in the fridge for anything from another half an hour, to overnight. The sight of a tin lined with pastry is lovely and heavy with promise, and almost as beautiful as when it is filled to the brim with fruit and other good things.

A filling of apples makes the quintessential fruit pie, but there are plenty of variations given what’s at hand in the season; rhubarb is delicious, as is a combination of rhubarb and strawberries. Anyone lucky enough to have gooseberries growing in their garden, or a good greengrocer, could make a lovely tart, slightly perfumed perhaps with a head of elderflower (and more on that particular subject soon.) Apples on their own are great with warming spices like cinnamon and cloves, or with the likes of berries, walnuts, or sultanas. And then, from relatively few ingredients and just a little work, there emerges from the oven a gorgeous, fragrant, bubbling pie to reward your efforts.

Here I’ve combined the Irish favourite, Bramley apples, with fresh summer raspberries, which is a fantastic combination. If you don't have Bramleys where you are, use a good cooking apple, like Cortland, Empire, or Granny Smith.

175g plain flour
75g butter, cold
150g + 2tbsp caster sugar
1 egg, fridge cold, beaten
3 bramley apples
150g raspberries
1 egg, beaten (for an egg wash – if there’s any beaten egg left from making the pastry, that’ll do lovely)

1. Cut the butter into small cubes. Put the flour and 1 tablespoon of sugar into a bowl and whisk to combine. Rub in the cubed butter until it resembles breadcrumbs in texture.

2. Add the beaten egg a little at a time, mixing with a knife until the whole lot just comes together in one piece.

3. Tip the dough onto some cling film, and bring it together. Form into a slightly flattened disc shape – this makes it easier to roll later on. Pop in the fridge for 30 minutes or so.

4. After that time take it out of the fridge and cut it in half. Roll one half between two sheets of clingfilm until it fits your tin – I used a 20cm/8in fluted pie dish. Remove one piece of film, then lay the pastry, dough side down, into the tin. Press to fit, then peel off the top layer of film. Roll the second half between the two clingfilm sheets, to fit the top of the pie, with a little overhang. Pop the whole lot back in the fridge until your filling is sorted.

5. Switch the oven on at 180C/350F.

6. Peel and core the apples, then cut into slices/dice, depending on what you fancy. Toss them in a bowl with the 150g of sugar and the raspberries.

7. Take the pie dish from the fridge and pile in the filling. Brush a little water around the rim of pastry. Lay the lid over the top and crimp the base and lid together around the edge with your thumb. Trim any overhanging pastry with a paring knife. If you fancy, use the trimmings to make pretty decorations for the top of your pie – a couple of overlapping circles or some leaves are easy to carve with a knife, or put your cookie cutters to use for stars, hearts, letters, etc.

8. Using a pastry brush, brush the top of the tart with egg wash. Sprinkle with the remaining tablespoon of sugar. Place the pie on a baking tray – useful in case your filling bubbles out anywhere. It’s makes a mess on the bottom of your oven (I know from experience).

9. Bake for about 45 minutes, the top should be golden brown, and the apples tender. Enjoy warm or room temperature, with whipped cream, ice cream, or custard.

Pinny For Your Thoughts?

I never thought of myself as one of those slightly unusual collector types, but reviewing my possessions I have found a couple of recurring trends; I have several teapots, far more eggcups than I will ever have need for, and a kitchen drawer packed full of aprons. I get a lot of these as presents, some for Christmas and birthdays, and others from other people’s vacations, like a beautiful all white Belgian lace one which feels too good to wear. Once in a while I wash and iron them all, and marvel at how these practical everyday items can be so pretty, but by and large I can’t say I’m very kind to them. I need my things to be functional as well as beautiful, and they get covered in melted chocolate, dustings of flour, bits of dough, and various other pieces of cooking detritus. My latest apron acquisition (pictured above) was a gift from my mum, and I have been keeping it especially clean and neat because it’s just so gorgeous. It’s from the Clodagh McKenna Love Aprons range, and these aprons are designed to be beautiful enough to wear when you’re having people over for dinner, which is definitely preferable to wearing one which has the ghosts of meals past imprinted upon it. Pictured above is the one I have, but I have my eye on this vintage inspired floral half pinny too.

Here are a couple of other cute aprons I found while browsing on etsy. Just another reason to get cracking in the kitchen!

Aprons:

Top Left, Day Red LOVE Apron, by Clodagh McKenna's Love Aprons range

Above Left, Love Boquet Full Apron, by Pamwares on Etsy

Above Right, Vintage Inspired Modern Dog Half Apron, by Boojiboo on Etsy

Guilty Pleasures #2

The man I really want to be in the back of a car with...

So has anyone else on this side of the Atlantic seen/tasted these new Walkers crisp flavours? There are very many places where Canada beats Ireland; the existence of brunch, great sourdough, more than say, 3, sushi restaurants in the entire country. But when it comes to the humble spud, we have it covered. My favourite potato based snack food is Tayto Cheese and Onion flavour crisps – a conservative choice perhaps, but they’ve stood me in good stead since childhood, and I am loyal to anything which consistently feeds me. My preferred method of eating them is in a classic Irish dish: the crisp sandwich. Take two slices of white bread, the rubbery sliced stuff is fine here, butter generously, then fill with as much of the crisp packet as you can. Press down gently to make it easier to hold. If in need of something more substantial, some cheddar can be added to the mix. How this has never made it to a book of traditional Irish cooking is beyond me. How half of the population isn’t dying of heart disease is also a mystery.

In any case, Walkers, the same snack company which had Heston Blumenthal on the brainstorming team not too long ago, have a range of new flavours, including Spanish paella, French garlic bread, and Italian spaghetti Bolognese, to name the three types which I snaffled greedily in the back of the car last week. (In the name of culinary research and all that.) And fancy and fun as they were, none could trump my beloved cheese and onion. Despite generally being a liberal, progressive type of gal, I simply can't get past my conservative attitude towards junk food. I always go for the classic option - usually the one most reminiscent of being a kid and spending all of my pocket money in the local corner shop. When it comes to hanging out on the sofa watching tv, I will go for the regular bar of cocoa-butter-heavy milk chocolate over the organic, single estate 70% dark chocolate every time. But surely I’m not the only one with a junk food guilty pleasure or two. Any confessions?