It is one of the perks of having cooked compulsively for years that one has a tendancy, every so often, to throw into a pan whatever is in the kitchen and come up with something which is better than expected.
Last week we were staying with the brother-in-law Colm in Skerries and spent a long and unproductive day in Dublin shopping, unsuccessfully, for clothes for the three weddings we are going to in the next couple of months.
I had promised Colm that I would cook and had brought with me a free range chicken from Carlow.
I was so knackered after the shopping that I just threw into a pan, with the chicken, anything I could find in the kitchen and then put it into the oven.
The results were so good and so simple that I have repeated the same recipe tonight and it looks like becoming a family standard.

Recipe
(for 3 to 4 depending on size of chicken)
1 Free Range chicken (jointed in 8 pieces.)
4 Large Cloves Garlic
2 Limes
2 tablespoons Olive Oil
4 sprigs fresh Thyme
salt and black pepper

Joint the chicken and put the pieces into a roasting tin or oven proof pan.
Season well with salt and pepper and pour over the olive oil.
Quarter the limes and squeeze roughly with your hand over the chicken.
Now put your hands into the pan and rub the whole thing together.
Into the pan throw the pieces of squeezed lime, the whole unpeeled cloves of garlic and the thyme and put it into a hot oven (200C,Gas 6) for about 45 minutes.
Take it out of the oven, and then squeeze the soft garlic out of its skins into the pan juices and also press down on the limes with a fork to extract maximum flavour.
Discard any of the thyme which hasn’t fallen into the sauce and the garlic skins and lime skins.
As you serve spoon oven the delicious lemony, garlicy juices.
It hardly needs anything with it but some plain potatoes or rice would go nicely.

I have been meaning to express my delight at being shortlisted for the Best Food and Drink Blog but was embarrassed at not being to organise a click link thingie to the other nominees without help from my technical advisor who is presently in South Africa, (accompanied I should add by my second best choice of techie , which shows a certain lack of consideration I think).
At this stage I have decided to go ahead and congratulate us all anyway, if you want to find the others on the short list just google one and then you can be directed onwards.

Best Food and Drink Blog 2008

And the short list is………….

Little bird eats…
Eat Drink Live
iFoods Blog
English Mum in Ireland
The Humble Housewife
Italian Foodies
Sour Grapes
Just add eggs
Well done fillet
Val’s Kitchen
Martin Dwyer

Post Scriptum on 22 Feb.
Embarrassed by my lack of skills and determined to survive without help from the younger generation I used a long a torturous technique to link those titles to their blogs.
Yous can work out the photoblogs yourselves!

The other good thing is that the same technical adviser, the very one who originally nominated me, and who I gave away in marriage two and a bit years ago,(to the second choice of techie) has been shortlisted herself for her photoblog.

Best Photo Blog Sponsored by Pix.ie

The short list is……

Red Mum
Skyroad
Caitriona
I Take Photees
Phil O’Kane photos
Rymus
Lathiko
North Atlantic Skyline
In Photos
Darren Greene Photography
Ross Costigan Photography
Gingerpixel
Captures Light
Thomas Mceldowney
Donal O’Caoimh
Mcawilliams
Kind I Like
Winds anad Breezes
My Left Ventricle
Krystian Kozerawski Photoblog
Pygment

So now poor Caitriona is going to have to wheel around the wrinklies on the night of the blog awards.

You have no-one to blame but yourself child!

About five weeks ago we emailed to our local builder in our village in France and told him that we had decided to employ him to get the renovations done on the presbytery in France.
I don’t know exactly what we expected but it was not the deafening silence we got.
OK, we know he is a busy man but he has previously replied to emails, or at least his wife has, pretty quickly.
We let two weeks go by, still no reply.
We emailed him again.
Again no reply.

This was looking pretty depressing.
We started to search out plans B and C.

He was obviously extremely busy, but when was he going to be able to do it?
We sat down and decided that he had to be able to start the job by September and have it all completed by Christmas or we were going to have to start the whole process of finding a builder again from scratch, a truly depressing prospect.
So we girded our loins, at least Sile did her French loins and we decided to phone the man and demand an answer.
He answered the phone himself, knew who Sile was straight away, and then dropped his bombshell.
He wanted to start the work in March, in a few weeks time!

That he hadn’t bothered to tell us this before didn’t seem to phase him in the least and, we , once we had gotten over the shock, we cannot be but delighted.
It now would seem that, all going well (which we know it won’t) he might be out of the house by the summer giving us a full year to tweak, primp and paint before opening our doors to the public, as a Chambre d’Hôte in June 2009.
We are going out for Easter, mid March , so hopefully we will be able to start him off on the right foot then.
We are starting to live in exciting times!
Consider this the first, and most optimistic , forecast of work completed.
We will keep you informed.

My daughter Eileen is the most musical one and is a mean hand at the piano, when she is in the right form.
The tune she most enjoys playing is one of Eric Satie’s Gymnopédie.
This is a most magical piece of music, one that people unfamilar with the name Satie will know because of its light etherial touch has been used in countless movies and even advertisments.
Satie resisted calling his musical pieces by the usual names of the time; mazurkas or waltzes like Chopin had, but instead called them gnossienne – a word which seems to come from the gnostic sect to which Satie was a member – and, as in the above, gymnopédie, which has an even more interesting background.
Wikepedia tells us:
The Gymnopaedia, in ancient Sparta, was a yearly celebration during which naked youths displayed their athletic and martial skills through the medium of dancing.

I really don’t feel that this music had much to do with young men dancing, particularly not the Spartans who were surely made of stronger stuff but, if you click on to this link you can make up your own mind.

This has all arisen because my assignment for tonight’s French class is to give a short talk about a French composer and play an example of his work-on a CD player I should add!
Thanks Eileen!

Photograph taken last June.
There is always some doubt in Connemara whether the walls are built to keep animals in fields or just as places to stack the multitude of stones lying about, or, just possibly, as things of beauty?

There is no longer any doubt but that eating has now become a political act.

After Jamie and Hugh came out as free range since Christmas the original old hen, Delia, has come out firmly on the side of non-organic and battery reared birds.
Ah well. That’s fine by me, I never liked her anyway.
But she is of course only expressing and attitude towards food that is held by a great many people.

My friends Paul and Isabel have sent me a copy of Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver and this, I think, should be required reading for any one who has the least care about where their food comes from.
There is every chance that it is going to turn me into a gigantic food bore, and I am not even finished it yet.

Barbara Kingsolver, who has written best sellers like The Poisonwood Bible, decides to spend a year in the Appalachians with her husband and two daughters eating only those products which come from a radius of about thirty miles from her house.
The fact that she is a keen vegetable gardener helps.
The book, interlaced with sections by her biologist husband Steve and nutritionist daughter Camille is packed with information as to why we eat the way we do today, and more importantly how we can improve the way we eat tomorrow.
But it is not just full of these facts, it also tells the fascinating and often funny story about how her family adapt to this life (and it give great recipes too).
Find it , buy it, it is possibly the most important book about food you will ever read.

One of my favourite French words is bouleversé which means staggered or amazed.
This immediately conjures up a picture to me of someone being turned upside down with amazement.
Just today I learned another, and simililarly attractive word in French; dégringolade which means a rapid decline or deterioration .
This time I see in my minds eye someone tumbling down and rolling to a stop.

When I speak French I try to use bouleverséas often as I can, just for the pleasure of speaking the word out loud, now I have another word seeking use.

How many times in a conversation can one be staggered by anothers deterioration?

It must surely be far more romantic to have dinner at home for two on the fourteenth than to have it in a restaurant.While I was serving meals to the world in Dwyers Restaurant I could have filled half a dozen restaurants of the same size in or around Valentines day, it was the essential night for the male of the species to show love by paying for dinner (we even had a few ultra-romantics insisting on hiding rings in desserts to surprise the lady, one nearly had to be given the Heimlich Manoeuvre as she swallowed the diamond in shock!)
From the restaurateurs point of view the night was a disaster, all twos meant not only were you running all your four and six tables at half capacity or less but the average St Valentine’s Day punter was of the shy and amorous persuasion which meant the restaurant was suffused in sepulchral silence, a self defeating exercise as this insured that no-one was prepared to break same silence by speaking.
There is a wonderful report of a group of London restaurateurs employing a couple of actors to go from restaurant to restaurant and have loud break-up rows at their table, then do the same at the next in an attempt to break the frigid two’s-only silence.
How much better then, all you romantics, to eat at home, farm out the flat-mates, the mother-in-law or the kids, light the candles and proceed with the following recipes.
You will note that the starter and the dessert are both cold and require only to be taken out of the fridge and garnished at the appropriate moment.
The main course pie, which has just a touch of shell fish for the libido, can be put into the oven just before the starter and should be just ready when you are.(I would suggest vegging it with something like mash potatoes and broccoli which can be quickly reheated in the microwave, or , lazier still, substitute the pastry for mash and eat it with a salad.)
The Chicken and Scallop Pie incidentally came from an old and trusted Theodore Fitzgibbon recipe, despite it sounding the height of fashion.
The Pavlova is probably Irelands national dish, the passion fruit, despite being named religiously after the cruciform shape of its flower stamens, is a must to eat on the feast of the patron saint of Love.

Millefeuille of Smoked Salmon
With Cream Cheese and Chives
(for Two)

175g (6 oz.) Smoked Salmon (Thinly sliced)
60g (2 oz.) Cream Cheese
60g (2 oz.) Fromage Frais
Juice Half Lemon
Generous grating Black Pepper
Good bunch Chives finely chopped.
Some Cherry Vine Tomatoes for garnish

Beat the two cheeses together and mix in the lemon juice and pepper.
When they are light and well blended fold in the chopped chives.(Keep some for decoration.)
Cut the smoked salmon into rough pieces about half the size of a postcard.(they don’t have to be intact as they can be patched together.)You should have at least 3 pieces per person.
Lay a piece of salmon on a plate and spoon over a tablespoon of the cheese mixture.Spread with a knife and then another piece of salmon, another layer of the cheese and top with the salmon.
Sprinkle over the reserved chives.
To accompany this you can make a tomato salad with sweet ripe vine tomatoes dressed with a little olive oil and even less balsamic vinegar.
This is an American rather than an Irish take on Smoked Salmon, they were the people who recognised the affinity between smoked salmon and cream cheese.
Get it all ready in advance, in the fridge and then at the last minute just dress the tomato salad.

Chicken, Scallop and Mushroom Pie
(for two)

2 Chicken legs (or breasts)
110g (4 oz.) Mushrooms
30g (1 oz.) Butter
30g (1 oz.) Flour
125 ml. (4 oz.) Cream
4 small or 2 large Scallops
110g (4 oz.) Puff Pastry

Put the chicken pieces in a pot and cover with water.Bring to the boil and simmer gently for about 25 mts. until cooked through.
Drain the chicken out of the stock and continue to boil this until reduced by a about a half.
Remove all the skin from the chicken and take it off the bone.(This is best done while the chicken is still warm- wear rubber gloves to protect your hands) and chop into rough pieces.
Melt the butter in a pot and fry the sliced mushrooms in this until soft.
Stir in the flour, and then about 175 ml (6 oz.) of the reduced stock.
Cook these together to make a sauce then add in the cream. Bring back to the boil and taste, season with salt and pepper.
Cut each of the scallops into 2 or 3 pieces.
Mix the chopped chicken with the mushroom sauce and then stir in the scallops.
Pour this mixture into a pie dish, moisten the edges and roll out the pastry and use to cover the top.
Paint with some egg wash and cook at 180C, 350F, Gas 4 for 25 to 30 mts. until nice and golden at the top.

Passion Fruit Pavlova
(for two)

60g (2oz.) Egg Whites (Whites from 2 large eggs)
Pinch Salt
Pinch Cream of Tartar
110g (4oz.) Caster Sugar
Half tsp. Cornflour
Half tsp. Vinegar
Half tsp. Vanilla Extract.
200ml(8oz.) Cream
4 Passion fruit.

Make sure that you remove all traces of yolk from the egg whites, and that the bowl and the whisk are perfectly clean.
Whisk the egg whites with the salt and cream of tartar until stiff.
Continue beating and add in the sugar spoonful by spoonful, until the mixture is glossy and holds a peak when you lift out the beater.
Stir the cornflour,vinegar and vanilla together to dissolve the cornflour and,still whisking add to the meringue mixture.
Line a baking with baking parchment and draw two circles roughly the size of the inside of your dessert plates, spoon the meringue into these circles and smoothen the top to make even.
Bake this at Gas 2, 150 C, 300 F, ( lower if you have a fan assisted oven) for about 45 mts. The outside will have gone pale beige and crisp while the inside is still soft. Peel off the parchment and leave to cool completely.
Whip the cream until stiff and spoon over the Pavlova.
Cut the passion fruit in two and with a teaspoon scoop out the contents, seeds and all , over the cream. The sharpness of the fruit is an ideal foil to the sweetness of the meringue.
Get this all ready , but keep separate, in advance, then, at the last moment put the cream and the fruit on the meringue.

For Wine?
A nice bottle of Alsace, ‘Cuvée Les Amours’ by Hugel should fit the bill.

My Great Aunt Agnes was, as they used to say, comfortably well off as her husband Billy Dwyer was probably Corks biggest employer at one time. She could well have lived her life without ever going near a kitchen but, she loved to cook.
When my sisters got married, with the receptions (or breakfasts as we used to call them!) at home in our house in Cork it was Aunt Agnes who came to the rescue and cooked, mixed and carved wondrous buffets for the hundreds of guests.
One of her buffet specialities was the above named salad, this she usually made from boiled turkey rather than chicken as I will indicate but either works well.
I have adapted and adopted it as one of my own and over the years have produced it for lots of weddings and buffets of all kinds.

As she was a grandmother herself (of at least fifty great-grandchildren)so I think she qualifies for the Granny’s recipes in the Mercier as well.

The Recipe

1 large Chicken
1 hd. Celery
225g/8oz.. grapes (seedless for convenience, red for appearance)
175g/6 oz. Streaky Rashers

Mayonnaise:
3 egg yolks
280ml/10 oz. Sunflower oil
1 tbs. Lemon Juice
Salt and Pepper

Cover the chicken with cold water in a large pot and bring it to a rolling boil.
Let it boil for about 10 mts. and then take it off the heat and let the chicken cool in the water. (This method of cooking keeps the chicken beautifully moist.)
When cool drain the chicken off the stock (keep this in the freezer for soup) and then take the chicken off the bone and discard the bones and the skin.
Chop this meat up roughly. Cut the rashers into little pieces and fry in a hot pan until brown and crispy, drain well on kitchen paper and add to the chicken. Cut the celery into small pieces and add to the chicken. Halve the grapes and discard the seeds and add them in.
Beat the yolks up well with the lemon and seasoning and then dribble in the oil (an electric beater is a great help at this stage) continue dribbling in the oil until it is gone and the mayonnaise is “a thick and yellow ointment”
Fold this into the chicken mixture .(If you push it into a bowl lined with cling film it can be unmoulded successfully and makes a great centrepiece for a buffet)

I have never been in the least way sporty, which considering my family is probably bizarre, they are all passionate about sport.
My mother’s skill on the hockey pitch is legendary, my father hunted and sailed with great enthusiasm, as the youngest of the seven siblings I alone did not excel either on the rugby field, the tennis court or, in the case of my sisters, the hockey pitch.

How far this decision came out of a fear of not living up to family expectations, a certain want of athletic skill, or just lack of interest , I will never know now.

My father made a great effort to interest me in sailing when I was young, going so far as to buy me a small sailing boat, a Cadet, which my brother Ted and I took out once, capsized about 10 times in Cork harbour, came home wet cold and miserable and swore never again.

It was all the more surprising when, much later in my life I became addicted to the sailing novels of Partick O Brian.
These books were written with so much passion and humour that I was totally carried along through all twenty something of them and have read them all through several times.
I would have thought that my resistance to field games was made of sterner stuff.
My secondary schooling was in Christian Brothers College in Cork,one of the great nurseries of Rugby skills, where it playing the game was compulsory.
I managed to totally ever avoid playing the game there throughout my secondary schooling by skilful use of “silence exile and cunning” the exile bit being more commonly known in Cork as; “going on the lang”.
While we lived in Kent a waiter in the restaurant we worked, a passionate West Ham supporter, when he discovered the gap in my education, insisted on bringing me to a game in Upton Park where, I must admit, I found the whole ritual of being a fan was fascinating.

Several years ago I came across the Italian books of Tim Parks, An Italian Education, and Italian Neighbours both of which I very much enjoyed (I wish I could say the same about his fiction which leaves me cold.)

When a couple of weeks ago I found myself in well stocked second hand book shop how could I resist A Season with Verona by Tim Parks even when I realised that it was not really a travel book, nothing about Opera (my initial presumption) but about Parks obsession with the Verona football team, Hellas Verona, and his attending every match, home and away in the year 2001.
Passion is a small word for the affection Parks lavishes on this team during the course of the year, and he communicates this perfectly to the reader.
Of course in the minute examination of the football year much information is also released about Italy and the Italians.
There is so much animosity between the various parts of Italy, particularly between north and south, that it makes you wonder if Garabaldi’s unification wasn’t rather looser than we think.

The fans of Verona become Parks brothers for the year, he even dedicates the book to them, and as the year progresses, and Hellas face the very real prospect of relegation to Serie B you begin to realise that the book is a true cliff hanger.
Get it, read it and enjoy it.