A Foodie Odyssey
Do you remember the first time you cooked something from scratch?
I do.
I don't remember my exact age. But I do remember everything else; the gentle Spring sun shining through the conservatory windows, lighting up our lemon kitchen. The big wooden table, covered in flour and sugar. My Mum and I, beating and mixing and creaming to create a pale dough - then her rolling it carefully out until the floured table, before I used my childlike might to press cutters to make shapes in the pastry.
I remember the anticipation as the minutes ticked by, the biscuits slowly but surely rising in the oven. I remember the excitement when it was time to take them out; the sweet aroma that wafted in hot waves when we opened the oven door.
I remember the feeling of pride that came with having made these little delights. I remember the calm and tranquillity that washed over me as we made them. It remember being happy.
Since then, my food has been an integral part of my life. Not just in the basic sense of needing it for nourishment, it goes far beyond that.
I rejoice in its endless possibilities. I began to voraciously read cooking books, the way people devour trashy novels when on a sun lounger in Spain. I slowly expanded my skills, learning how to make spag-bol and other basics. My baking skills began to advance to include muffins, cookies, cakes and chocolates.
I remember getting a Get Set Chocolate Maker for a birthday - and for months there after, friends and families would be given my homemade chocolates (which were really just melted chocolates poured into floral moulds, but I didn't care).
In the blight of my teenage years, I would lose my thoughts and my stress in pillows of flour and baking powder. I checked out one cookery book after another from the library, teaching myself the essentials of cooking.
I learned how onions loved nothing more than a bath of butter and by marrying the two, they tasted fantastic on everything. I learned that making my own tomato sauce for spag bol tasted so much nicer than the jarred kind I had been using. I learned how the temperature of butter and eggs could have a DRASTIC impact on the outcome of my sweet treats. I learned the importance of letting meat rest, so the beautiful, savoury juices could get locked into a chicken or piece of lamb.
Food and I have grown up together. We've matured and mellowed, changed and developed. I was a foodie long before being a foodie was in vogue.
Over the last number of years in Ireland, we've experienced a food renaissance. The quality produce we had all along is now being given the international recognition it deserves. We are shedding the stereotype of a nation only obsessed with potatoes and Guinness. We're grazing quality produce to create the best cuts of meat; we're utilizing our natural land and sea resources to create innovative products. We were artisanal before it became a thing, with a glut of chutneys, relishes, cheeses and smoked meats on offer.
This is the New Irish Cuisine, the one that merges the old with the new. Dublin doesn't have the sole hold on great food finds - they're distributed all throughout the country.
I am starting this blog for one, simple reason - a pure love of Irish food.
I want to showcase the amazing produce we have to offer. I want to share my favourite recipes and find new ones. I want to discover new places to eat - and then tell you all about them. I want to spotlight the hardworkers behind our best food. I want to voraciously devour all that I can - and I want you to do it with me.
So as I continue the journey I began, all those years ago in the sunny kitchen, I want you to come with me.
This is The Irish Plate. Lets share it together.
P.S - those biscuits from all those years ago? The recipe is below xoxo
Credit: thenightbakery.com
CHILDHOOD BISCUITS
250g soft Irish butter
140g caster sugar (refined sugar in America)
1 egg yolk
2 tsp of vanilla extract (the finest you can afford)
300g plain flour
- Mix butter and caster sugar in large bowl then add the egg yolk and vanilla. Beat lightly to comibine.
- Sift (and it does matter whether you sift it or not, so do!) 300g of plain flour and stir until the mixture is well combined. You should be able to press the dough together and it will stay together.
- Roll out dough and cut into whatever shapes you like.
- Place biscuits on tray with lightly greased baking paper (use the empty butter packet to grease the tray, really handy) and bake in a pre-heated oven at 180 degrees Celsius for 20 minutes.
- Allow to cool on tray before consuming. Top with raspberry jam, chocolate spread, cinnamon butter; whatever you like! Consume with a mug of hot tea.
I do.
I don't remember my exact age. But I do remember everything else; the gentle Spring sun shining through the conservatory windows, lighting up our lemon kitchen. The big wooden table, covered in flour and sugar. My Mum and I, beating and mixing and creaming to create a pale dough - then her rolling it carefully out until the floured table, before I used my childlike might to press cutters to make shapes in the pastry.
I remember the anticipation as the minutes ticked by, the biscuits slowly but surely rising in the oven. I remember the excitement when it was time to take them out; the sweet aroma that wafted in hot waves when we opened the oven door.
I remember the feeling of pride that came with having made these little delights. I remember the calm and tranquillity that washed over me as we made them. It remember being happy.
Since then, my food has been an integral part of my life. Not just in the basic sense of needing it for nourishment, it goes far beyond that.
I rejoice in its endless possibilities. I began to voraciously read cooking books, the way people devour trashy novels when on a sun lounger in Spain. I slowly expanded my skills, learning how to make spag-bol and other basics. My baking skills began to advance to include muffins, cookies, cakes and chocolates.
I remember getting a Get Set Chocolate Maker for a birthday - and for months there after, friends and families would be given my homemade chocolates (which were really just melted chocolates poured into floral moulds, but I didn't care).
In the blight of my teenage years, I would lose my thoughts and my stress in pillows of flour and baking powder. I checked out one cookery book after another from the library, teaching myself the essentials of cooking.
I learned how onions loved nothing more than a bath of butter and by marrying the two, they tasted fantastic on everything. I learned that making my own tomato sauce for spag bol tasted so much nicer than the jarred kind I had been using. I learned how the temperature of butter and eggs could have a DRASTIC impact on the outcome of my sweet treats. I learned the importance of letting meat rest, so the beautiful, savoury juices could get locked into a chicken or piece of lamb.
Food and I have grown up together. We've matured and mellowed, changed and developed. I was a foodie long before being a foodie was in vogue.
Over the last number of years in Ireland, we've experienced a food renaissance. The quality produce we had all along is now being given the international recognition it deserves. We are shedding the stereotype of a nation only obsessed with potatoes and Guinness. We're grazing quality produce to create the best cuts of meat; we're utilizing our natural land and sea resources to create innovative products. We were artisanal before it became a thing, with a glut of chutneys, relishes, cheeses and smoked meats on offer.
This is the New Irish Cuisine, the one that merges the old with the new. Dublin doesn't have the sole hold on great food finds - they're distributed all throughout the country.
I am starting this blog for one, simple reason - a pure love of Irish food.
I want to showcase the amazing produce we have to offer. I want to share my favourite recipes and find new ones. I want to discover new places to eat - and then tell you all about them. I want to spotlight the hardworkers behind our best food. I want to voraciously devour all that I can - and I want you to do it with me.
So as I continue the journey I began, all those years ago in the sunny kitchen, I want you to come with me.
This is The Irish Plate. Lets share it together.
P.S - those biscuits from all those years ago? The recipe is below xoxo
CHILDHOOD BISCUITS
250g soft Irish butter
140g caster sugar (refined sugar in America)
1 egg yolk
2 tsp of vanilla extract (the finest you can afford)
300g plain flour
- Mix butter and caster sugar in large bowl then add the egg yolk and vanilla. Beat lightly to comibine.
- Sift (and it does matter whether you sift it or not, so do!) 300g of plain flour and stir until the mixture is well combined. You should be able to press the dough together and it will stay together.
- Roll out dough and cut into whatever shapes you like.
- Place biscuits on tray with lightly greased baking paper (use the empty butter packet to grease the tray, really handy) and bake in a pre-heated oven at 180 degrees Celsius for 20 minutes.
- Allow to cool on tray before consuming. Top with raspberry jam, chocolate spread, cinnamon butter; whatever you like! Consume with a mug of hot tea.
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