Spud Sunday: Sligo Spuds
Prátaí ar maidin, prátaí um nóin
Agus dá n-éireoinn san oíche, prátaí a gheobhainnPotatoes in the morning, potatoes at noon
And if we get up in the night, it’s potatoes we’ll getOld Irish saying - so says my Da and he should know
If the notion of having potatoes morning, noon and night appeals, then Lissadell House in Co. Sligo is the place to be. The house and its residents may have been the stuff of poetry for WB Yeats in his day, but it was potatoes that had me treading, perhaps not quite so softly, in the footsteps of the bard last weekend. For Lissadell is now home to Dave Langford’s collection of heritage potatoes, around 180 varieties worth, and I spent part of last weekend being taken on a private tour of the gardens there, along with MGH, my agent on the ground in the North West.
A small selection of the varieties grown at Lissadell
Due to an unfortunate dispute over rights-of-way through the property, the gardens at Lissadell are not open to the public this year, which is a real pity, because they’re well worth seeing. Lucky for me, though, that Dave Langford himself, whom I met earlier this year at the Organic Centre’s Potato Day, had offered to show me around. Dave, along with Dermot Carey, head gardener at Lissadell, took us on a turn around the substantial Victorian walled kitchen garden, home to the spud collection, and to a host of other fruit and vegetables. We also got to see the polytunnels and areas where they do commercial organic growing, with the supply going mainly to local restaurants.
Getting down and dirty in Lissadell with Dave and Dermot
Dave is indeed a fount of knowledge on all things potato and regaled us with spud-lore as we toured about. I have, as a result, added several new potato factoids to my top pocket, to be drawn upon whenever I feel a potato anorak moment coming on.
I now know, for example, that a roguer is someone specially trained to scour commercially planted potato fields, spotting potato plants of the wrong variety (the so-called rogues) or plants diseased by, among other things, the dreaded blackleg. I can intrigue listeners with stories of the Black Bog, a dark stemmed and dark skinned spud that was often grown in mental institutions (though why it was favoured by mental institutions is, umm, a little unclear). When it comes to potato league tables, I will reference the Bambino, which Dave declared hands-down the worst potato he’s ever eaten, worse than the Lumper variety of famine times (which, he says, are actually not that bad to eat if the growing season has been dry, but if it’s been wet, then steer clear).
Oh my, but I’ll be popular. At least when it comes to table quizzes, that is.
Yes, not only did Dave display his in-depth knowledge of each and every one of the heritage varieties in his collection, he also told us that he is breeding some varieties of his own and will be finding out in a few weeks time if any of them are good for eating. In the coming years at Lissadell, they hope to set up a special display of Irish-bred spuds, no doubt with some of Dave’s among them. All in all, it was a fascinating visit, which put my own little potato collection just every so slightly in the shade!
Passing through Ladies Walk, Lissadell
By the by, as you’re reading this, I’ll be swapping a walk around Lissadell for a walk along part of the Camino de Santiago in Northern Spain. What that means is that, for the coming week, I’ll be doing a lot of not-very-fancy footwork along the Spanish highways and by-ways, and not a lot of anything on the super highways of the internet. You can expect me back next Sunday.
Stilts, Gooseberries, And A Spud For All Seasons
Ah, summer in Ireland. Where you’re just as likely to be bathed in rain as in sunshine and where the organisers of outdoor events play a game of Russian roulette with the weather and hope that they are hit, if not with sunshine, then at least not with a fatal shot of precipitation.
As I made ready to head to the Midsummer Fair in Temple Bar on Sunday last, I peered out at grey skies and a persistent drizzle. It didn’t look good for folks wanting to picnic and be entertained while lounging on the faux-grass in Meeting House Square.
Still, I donned my rain gear and arrived to find a few other hardy souls enjoying the trad music on offer, some even be-seated on the I-can-believe-it’s-not-grass patch. More importantly, I was able to satisfy my morning’s need for caffeine at the coffee angel stand, my portable coffee of choice. The day was looking up.
Sure enough, by mid-afternoon, the weather had taken a decided turn for the better and there was little space left on the artificial green, with families being entertained by Punch and Judy, face-painting, magic tricks and periodic encounters with a man on stilts (equipped with stilt welly boots, de riguer for stilting in the Irish climate), and another fellow on a unicycle. Good family fun and, better again, all for free.
Meet the entertainers
The market stalls surrounding the square combined food, crafts and books, representing a mix of the regular weekly Temple Bar markets. I, of course, was really there for the food and, while the number of food stalls was relatively small, I still managed to while away a goodly amount of time doing a tour of what was on offer.
Hungry?
I was delighted to see gooseberries for sale from Malone’s Fruit Farms and much discussion of the berry ensued with the delightful Bernie. I was on a promise to make some gooseberry curd, having mentioned the possibility to Gastroanthropologist and, given that my Ma’s gooseberries are not quite ready yet, I secured some from Malone’s instead. I also nabbed some of the excellent sprouted chickpea hummus from Natasha’s Living Foods and some fabulous apple ice cream from Llewellyn’s.
There were, in addition, farmhouse cheeses on the double from Knockdrinna and from Corleggy, there were oysters, there were goods that were roasted and goods that were baked. And then there was Roy and his mobile potato-baking oven.
I checked it out and read that it has room for 230 potatoes. Colour me impressed. My baked potato came complete with the story of the Vivaldi potato, a UK variety favoured for baking and so-called because, yes, it is a spud for all 4 seasons. Meanwhile Roy is on the hunt for a regular vending spot for his baked spuds, so I wish him luck with that.
Finally, it was time to take my leave. I could have lingered, enjoying the temporarily grassed Temple Bar, but my gooseberries were, by then, demanding my attention and some gooseberry curd ensued.
Midsummer Gooseberry Curd
This is taken from Marguerite Patten’s excellent Jams, Preserves and Chutneys handbook.
Truth be told, this was actually my first time to make curd of any description and, if success is measured as the rate at which I’ve been spooning the results into my awaiting gob, then this was of the rip-roaring variety. I would say, however, that my inaugural batch of curd didn’t thicken up as much as I thought a curd ought to. The recipe calls for either whole eggs or, if you prefer, you can use egg yolks only (in which case you double the amount of egg-age). I went the whole eggs route on this attempt but am thinking that it would perhaps thicken better with yolks only. However, I’m going to turn this one over to Jenni and request further analysis on the consistency front.
You’ll need:
- 900g sour green gooseberries
- 300ml water
- sugar (for amount, see Steps)
- unsalted butter (for amount, see Steps)
- eggs (for amount, see Steps)
You’ll also need:
- A nylon sieve to strain the gooseberry purée.
- A double boiler or, alternatively, a large basin that can sit over a saucepan of water.
- Jars and wax discs for sealing up to 1.5kg of curd and a tongs for handling sterilised jars.
The Steps:
- You’ll need to prepare the jars that you’re going to use for the curd. Turn your oven on to 140C. Wash the jars in hot soapy water, rinse thoroughly, and sterilise, either by boiling in water for 10 minutes and then drying in the oven or just by keeping the jars in the oven for at least 30 minutes before using.
- Wash the gooseberries but don’t bother removing the tops and tails.
- Add the gooseberries and water to a large saucepan over a medium heat. Bring to a boil, then lower the heat and simmer until the fruit has softened, the berries have burst and the mixture is pulpy (about 15-20 minutes).
- Strain through a nylon sieve, pushing as much of the mixture through as possible, and measure the resulting volume of gooseberry purée - I managed to get about 1 litre from this amount.
- The exact quantity of sugar, butter and eggs will depend on the volume of gooseberry purée. For 1 litre of gooseberry purée, I used 750g sugar, 190g unsalted butter and 5 large eggs (or you can use 10 egg yolks instead).
- Place the purée in the top of a double boiler or in a basin placed over a saucepan on a medium-low heat and containing hot, but not boiling, water. Add the sugar and butter and stir until melted.
- Whisk the eggs or egg yolks, then whisk in a little of the hot gooseberry mixture to heat the eggs. Then add this mixture slowly back into the gooseberry purée.
- Cook slowly, allowing the mixture to thicken until it coats the back of a wooden spoon. I probably cooked mine for about 30-40 minutes. It didn’t thicken as much as I expected it to, but I didn’t want to cook it into oblivion either, so I stopped at that point.
- Pour into hot, sterilised jars, to within 3mm of the tops. Seal with a wax disc and cover with cellophane covers and/or sterilised lids.
- Once it’s cooled, try some curd on toast or swirled into some yoghurt.
The Variations:
- Once I have a critical mass of berries from the redcurrant bush in my garden, I think I’m going to try using making curd with them, as they, too, are quite tart and would be yet another alternative to the traditional lemon curd.
The Results:
- Around 1.5 kg of curd
Spud Sunday: Manly Spuds
Here follows a small public service announcement: The Daily Spud (that would be me) is a girl.
Ok, a lot of you knew that, but it hasn’t been uncommon for newcomers here to assume otherwise. There’s something about the name Spud that seems to imply solid, male qualities, as opposed to anything giggly girl-ish.
I bring this up only because of the call that went out from Carol at Simply… Gluten Free, seeking entries with a manly theme for this month’s Go Ahead Honey, It’s Gluten Free. I thought that a dish with spuds was a pretty natural manly choice, even if this here Spud happens not to be built in that manly way.
But what to do with spuds that would accentuate their manliness? The occasion demanded that I cut them into hunks, of course, and clearly I’d have to leave the skins on (because real men eat them skins ‘n’ all, right?). And it would be unbecoming to have my manly hunks of spud going to either mush or mash, so I would roast them up and then serve them with a chunky sauce that was smoky, earthy and chili hot. Think Mexican chili meets patatas bravas. These would be fine, manly potatoes and no gluten required.
Manly Spuds
As specified, with 1 chipotle chili and some hot paprika, the sauce has a nice smoky bite. If you’re making this for manly types who like extra heat, feel free to increase the quantity of chipotle and/or paprika.
The spuds:
- 4 potatoes, around 800g
- 4 tblsp olive oil
- Coarse salt and freshly ground black pepper
The manly sauce:
- 1 x 400g tin of tomatoes
- 1 onion
- 2 cloves garlic
- 2 tblsp tomato puree
- 1 dried chipotle chili
- 0.5 tsp hot smoked paprika
- 1.5 tsp cumin
- 1 tsp oregano
- 1 tsp cocoa powder
- 1 tsp salt or to taste
- 1.5 tsp cider vinegar
- olive oil for frying
The Spud Steps:
- Preheat the oven to 200C
- Scrub the potatoes and cut into large, roughly even-sized
chunkshunks - Pat the potatoes dry and toss in the olive oil
- Place on a baking tray and roast until tender, around 20-30 minutes, depending on size
- Season with salt & pepper
The Sauce Steps:
- Remove the stem from the chipotle and grind in a coffee or spice grinder. Alternatively, toast the chili for a minute or so in a dry frying pan over a medium heat, soak in just-boiled water for about 15 minutes to soften, then drain and finely chop. Set aside.
- Place a pan over a medium heat. When the pan is hot, add olive oil to coat the pan.
- Finely chop the onion and garlic and add to the pan. Stir and fry for about 5 minutes, until the onions are translucent.
- Add the chipotle, smoked paprika, cumin, oregano and cocoa powder to the pan. Stir to mix.
- Add the tomato puree to the pan, stirring briefly.
- Add the tinned tomatoes and salt and bring to a boil. Cover, reduce the heat and simmer for 10-15 minutes.
- Stir in a tsp of the cider vinegar and taste. Add a touch more if you like.
- Serve with the spuds and sour cream or yoghurt.
The Variations:
- Next time I think I’ll sprinkle some grated parmesan on the spuds about 5 minutes before they’re done.
The Results:
- Side-dish or tapas-sized portions for about 4
