Spud Sunday: A Kind Of Blue Pizza
Dinner these days is a challenge.
Being in a new kitchen, I mean. With not everything in its right place. Yet.
So when Milano’s invited me to take part in their create your pizza challenge, I recall thinking that might just be a challenge too far under present circumstances.
Fortunately, they did send me the pizza dough, which, one would have to admit, helps a lot.
A kind of blue pizza
Good For What Ales You
As I climbed out of the taxi, my driver, Anthony, had one last wish for my onward journey:
“Give them my love”, says he, “and tell them to keep brewing the Smithwick’s for me and for you”.
I think he might just have had a tear in his eye as he wished me well, being quite overcome at the thought that I was on my way to visit the Smithwick’s brewery. Having discovered my intended destination, Anthony’s eyes had lit up and his expression become more animated. At the mention of the Irish ale that is Smithwick’s, he had announced proudly “that’s my drink, so it is”.
We had swapped beer stories and talked about that certain solidarity that exists among Smithwick’s drinkers, perhaps the result of always being the odd one out in a sea of Guinness and lager stalwarts.
Smithwick's through the years
I will admit that, having been a Smithwick’s drinker for years, I was just as excited as Anthony was about my visiting the brewery. Forget that I was leaving a half-unpacked house behind me, a visit to Smithwick’s trumped all.
Spud Sunday: Spud On The Move
I doubt that many people actually like the process of packing up and moving house.
There are so many things that you must remember to pack. Like your toothbrush. And your spuds.
Although, to be fair, when one has a potato-obsessed brain and some unusual red, blue and purple potatoes to match, they become a little less hard to forget.
Some of this year's multicoloured crop: Salad Blue, Highland Burgundy Red and Aura
So it is that I find myself in the midst of such a move, between two houses, minus one garden, operating with half a kitchen and a bag of spuds.
And no toothbrush.
It could be worse. I might have no spuds.
A Wee Scottish Dram
Gie him strong Drink until he wink,
That’s sinking in despair;
An’ liquor guid to fie his bluid,
That’s prest wi’ grief an’ care;
.
.
O Whisky! soul o’ plays an’ pranks!
Accept a Bardie’s gratefu’ thanks!
When wanting thee, what tuneless cranks
Are my poor Verses!
.
.from “Scotch Drink” by Robert Burns (1759-1796)
Scotland’s national bard clearly had a great deal of respect for Scotland’s national drink.
And if you were ever in any doubt as to the importance of whisky to the Scots or whiskey to the Irish, then the fact that we both describe it as Uisce Beatha – or the Water of Life – would leave you in no doubt. So much so that, on my recent travels to Scotland’s Isle of Arran, I fully imagined it to be a breach of some law to depart the island without having at least a wee dram of the “Scotch drink”. A visit to the Isle of Arran Distillers, the only (legal) producer of whisky on the island, turns out to have been a very good choice, and not just because of its Irish connections.
Gordon Mitchell, their now retired distillery manager, previously worked at Ireland’s Cooley Distillery and was involved in the development of their most excellent Connemara Peated Single Malt. While Connemara is unusual for an Irish whiskey in that it is peated, the signature 10 year old single malt produced by Isle of Arran Distillers is unusual for a Scotch whisky in that it is not.
But that is not the only thing worthy of note.
Arran 10 year old single malt whisky
Spud Sunday: Spud Business
So, if you were looking for someone to go and talk spuds with a commercial potato grower, who would you ask?
It seems, what with the new potato season upon us, that the folks from Bord Bia were pondering that very question lately. The result of their ponderings was that they came knocking upon my door.
Soon afterward, I found myself in the middle of a potato field in North County Dublin having a most illuminating, spud-filled conversation. You can read all about it over on the Best in Season website, but I’m also including the full text here.
I am indebted to my interviewee Barry for his time and his candor. Enjoy.
Barry's field of Kerr's Pink potatoes
A Taste Of Arran
“It’s a bit like Craggy Island”.
The jovial Alastair Dobson was suggesting that the Isle of Arran might have something of the remoteness and quirkiness of Craggy Island, the fictional setting for the equally fictional Father Ted.
Whilst Arran is a rural island outpost and does necessitate almost an hour’s ferry crossing from the Scottish mainland, it’s still within easy reach of Glasgow and Edinburgh. Its appeal as a place to live is evidenced by the fact that many of its 5000+ residents are not native islanders but blow-ins from other parts of Scotland, Northern England and elsewhere.
Image produced from the Ordnance Survey Get-a-map service.
Image reproduced with kind permission of Ordnance Survey and Ordnance Survey of Northern Ireland.
Boasting the highest density of artisan food producers of any postcode in Scotland – and producing high quality fresh vegetables and herbs, cheeses, mustards, oatcakes, ice cream, beer, Scotch whisky and more – the island also appeals as a place where you can drink and eat, both locally and well.
Spud Sunday: Lucky Tattie
Trust me on this. A spud could get very excited by the prospect of a trip to Scotland’s Isle of Arran.
This little island off the country’s west coast is the birthplace of several notable potatoes, including Arran Pilot and Arran Victory, bred in the early part of the 20th Century by local Arran shopkeeper, Donald McKelvie. As if that weren’t pedigree enough, Maris Piper – the potato of choice for chippers in the UK – was bred from McKelvie’s Arran Cairn.
It is with much respect indeed that I tip my new tartan hat to the originator of such fine tatties.
Spud goes Scottish
West Cork Story
“Why would you want to be anywhere else?”
Looking out at the view, I couldn’t help but agree with Adam Medcalf, head chef at Inchydoney Island Lodge and Spa. The graceful sweep of West Cork coastline at Inchydoney is not a sight that you would tire of easily.
Around Inchydoney
I was in Inchydoney as a guest of the resort, invited to sample their new West Cork menu (yeah, it’s a dirty job…). Except, as Adam – who has worked here for over five years – will tell you, the West Cork nature of the menu is not really that new. From farmhouse cheeses, locally grown vegetables and Clonakilty black pudding, to fish and meats, both fresh and smoked, anyone looking to source high quality, locally produced food in West Cork is spoiled for choice. The restaurant at Inchydoney has always taken advantage of the bountiful raw materials within arms reach. It would have been rude of me not to get stuck in and see what exactly they made of those raw materials.
Dinner, in other words, was served.
