Tempting tipples...

Several of my work colleagues, it seems, are off the jar for January (meaning, for those unfamiliar with that particular turn of phrase, that they are giving alcohol a miss for the month). One did confess, though, to having fallen off the wagon the other day by way of a mid-week glass of wine and, like any forbidden fruit, it was all the sweeter for that. Now, several days later, I can’t say if that conversation was what prompted me to (a) buy a bottle of white wine or (b) add a glass of same to these potatoes, but it might just have been a factor. What I can tell you is that the potatoes are, without doubt, all the better for the addition.

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Potatoes with Leeks and White Wine

This is an utterly simple preparation – potatoes cooked in a pan with some leeks, garlic, thyme, olives and of course that white wine. If you’re like me, you’ll just eat these on their own for lunch, or they would make a nice accompaniment to a plain omelette, some baked mushrooms or a piece of grilled white fish, along with a glass of that white wine you had to open…

You’ll need:

• olive oil for frying
• butter for frying
• one large leek, white and light green parts finely sliced
• 2 cloves garlic, finely chopped
• 3 medium-sized potatoes (about 600g total), peeled and cut into approx. 2cm cubes
• 0.5 tsp dijon mustard
• 0.5 tsp salt
• freshly ground black pepper
• 150ml dry white wine (one you’d like to drink yourself)
• 150ml hot water
• 3-4 sprigs fresh thyme
• 3-4 tblsp green olives, sliced
• 1 tblsp brine from the olives (optional)

You’ll also need:

• A good-sized frying pan – mine was around 26cm diameter – with a lid

The Steps:

• Place your frying pan over a medium heat and, when hot, add about 0.5 tblsp butter and 0.5 tblsp olive oil. When the butter has melted, add the leeks. Stir and fry for 3-4 minutes or until softened. Add the garlic and stir for about a minute more.
• Add the chunks of potato, mustard, salt and pepper and stir briefly, then add the white wine, hot water, thyme, olives and, if the olives have been stored in brine, add about a tblsp of the olive brine. Stir again and bring the potatoes to the boil, then cover the pan, lower the heat and simmer gently until the potatoes are cooked through and the liquid had reduced considerably – this will take around 30 minutes or so.
• Enjoy these potatoes on their or with eggs or fish or whatever else you fancy.

The Variations:

• You could certainly add some parsley to good effect here or some parmesan cheese if you felt like it. A few capers wouldn’t go astray either.

The Results:

• Makes 2-3 servings

]]> http://www.thedailyspud.com/2012/01/22/potatoes-leeks-white-wine/feed/ 12 http://www.thedailyspud.com/2011/09/28/port-trifle-dessert/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=port-trifle-dessert http://www.thedailyspud.com/2011/09/28/port-trifle-dessert/#comments Wed, 28 Sep 2011 15:01:01 +0000 Daily Spud http://www.thedailyspud.com/?p=31415

I won’t delay. It is unseasonably warm outside and, that being such a rarity in this parts, I really should take advantage, but not before leaving you with this month’s contribution to the five star makeover series.

hosted by 5 Star Foodie & Lazaro Cooks!

This month’s theme called for a makeover of dishes where wine was a major ingredient. I chose that old-fashioned triumph of sponge, fruit, jelly, custard and cream, the sherry trifle.

My mini trifle tower

I’ve spent the past couple of months topping up my knowledge of all things vine-related with study for a WSET (Wine and Spirit Education Trust) Intermediate Certificate, which culminated with a final exam last night. The WSET course (ably presented by Maureen from Premier Wine Training), has taught me, among other things, that this champagne from Bruno Paillard is really a rather good one to celebrate with.

Champagne Bruno Paillard

But why bother with a wine course? On a recent taxi journey, I ended up explaining my reasons for same to the driver. Among them, that I was in the habit, through the good offices of this blog, of being invited to wine tastings. His ears perked up.

Taxi-Man: “For free, like? Jaze, that’s a cheap night out, wha?”

Me: “Umm, well, yes, I suppose…”

Taxi-Man: “Wudya drink enough to get drunk, like?”

Me: (diplomatically) “Er, well, if that was your intention…”

Taxi-Man: “Ah, shure it’s great to get something for nothing”

I think the taxi-man would have been horrified if I had told him that, in actual fact, after a certain amount of judicious swirling, a lot of the wine at these tastings gets spat right back out. Rather than shatter his illusions, I thought it best to keep that particular piece of information to myself.

Thing is, of course, that everyone has their own take on wine. Mostly when we buy a bottle, it gets drunk (as, occasionally, do we) within 24 hours. We like some bottles better than others, we perhaps get to know a few brand or grape names that we look out for if we’re buying and we quaff away. It certainly doesn’t require a qualification to enjoy it, though a little education can make the process of choosing wine that bit more hit than miss. The best part, though, is that studying wine, by its nature, involves a lot of tasting. Spitting, the taxi-man will be delighted to know, is entirely optional.

You pick your bottle based on price tag and a vague memory of having drunk something similar in the past. You fill your glass and hope for the best.

Unlike beer, which, generally speaking, you can rely on to taste the same from year to year, this wine stuff just keeps bloody changing.

Harvest after harvest.

And that – depending on your perspective – is either the trouble with it, or the beauty of it.

It undoubtedly makes life interesting for winemakers and wine aficionados, but not a little tricky for you and me. Multiply grapes by regions by styles by vintages and the choices are bewildering. Though we may get to know broadly what it is we like in a wine when we taste it, we may not have the vocabulary to describe it much beyond red, white or bubbly. So we often rely on those more knowledgeable to navigate the vast cellars, taste widely and recommend. With any luck, they won’t come over all poncey in the process.

Pick a glass, any glass...

In my case, and through the good offices of this blog, I’ve been given the opportunity to indulge in tastings and rub shoulders with those who are winewise. The knowledgeable ones were out in force on Monday, at the annual New Zealand trade tasting in Dublin, where I joined them for a couple of hours in a room with about 200 wines, all available for sampling (it is, as they say, a dirty job, but somebody’s gotta do it…).

Now, assuming that I manage not to become completely trolleyed during the tasting process (which, you would guess rightly, is a challenge in itself), experiences like this do improve the odds of my winning the next hand in the ongoing game of wine.

I might, for example, remember, if and when I see it on the shelves here, that I particularly liked the wines from Omaka Springs Estates, because their sauvignon blanc, pinot gris, reisling and pinot noir all seemed that bit different from the New Zealand norm.

I will also recognise Brancott Estate – the winery formerly known as Montana – and the original makers of Marlborough sauvignon blanc. Difficult to forget, to be honest, especially when you get to meet the winemaker, Patrick Materman, and not for the first time. Difficult, also, to forget that he thinks the 2010 sauvignon blanc may be the best vintage he’s seen in his 20 or so years with the winery. Whilst I am not remotely qualified to be the judge of that particular statement, I can say that when I put this wine in my glass, it feels like I’m holding another winning hand.

Brancott Estate Sauvignon Blanc: the original of the New Zealand species

Top o' the mornin' granola

It is a testament to Paddy O’Connell’s superb selling skills that l would have bought his bags of granola regardless of what they actually contained. As it happens, Paddy’s O’Granola was well worth the investment, as my breakfasts lately will testify.

That granola was just one of the edibles either in my bag or in my belly following what was a thoroughly enjoyable visit to this year’s Taste of Dublin festival. The enjoyment was helped, of course, by the fact that the sun was shining. And there were lots of bubbles. Like so…

Recession, eh?

The Irish food world being the small place that it is, there were also lots of familiar faces.

Emerging from the official launch, I spied with my little eye Catherine Fulvio, demonstrating her own particular brand of Italian cooking, with charm and shots of homemade limoncello, an irresistible combination. Up ahead, John McDonnell from Wine Australia, complete with Aussie hat and boogie board, was pouring, while over yonder, that champion of Irish food, Peter Ward from Country Choice, was dispensing cheese and enthusiasm.

Catherine Fulvio shows attendees how to make stromboli (the bread that is, not the volcano)

Everywhere else I looked, there was food.

Tapas-sized signature dishes on offer from a selection of Dublin’s best restaurants, though not for tapas-sized prices. This much has always been true of Taste of Dublin.

Selection of signature dishes, clockwise from bottom left:
Garlicky prawns from Roly's; Goat's cheese cake from Salon des Saveurs; Citrus cured salmon from Pichet; Fish, chips and minty mushy peas from The Merrion;

Yes, Taste of Dublin doesn’t qualify as a cheap evening’s entertainment (except, perhaps, if you have a press pass and, lucky me, I did). Yet it’s still popular enough to sell out, at least for the Saturday sessions, so there are clearly enough people left who can afford a bit of a food-related splurge. A cause for optimism, perhaps? If so, I should toast it with a few more drops of bubbly before I go…

Bubbly from Jacob's Creek at Taste:
Slightly sweet Sparkling Rosé and the drier, more to my taste, Blanc de Blancs (not that I objected to drinking either)

I doubt that I will ever become a true locavore.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m all for the principles of eating (and drinking) locally, when and where possible, but I am ever appreciative of the ease with which we can import that which is neither cultivated nor produced here. Potato-heavy though my diet (naturally) is, I think that I would find it impossible to confine myself solely to the food and drink which emanates from within our Irish borders. Or would I?

For starters, wine would be a no-no. Especially the far away new world kind.

World Cup Wines from South Africa's Nederburg: creamy sauvignon blanc, crisp, dry, rosé (dangerously drinkable, like an adult raspberry cordial) and fruity cabernet sauvignon

Take these limited edition South African World Cup wines from Nederburg that came my way recently. While I won’t be overly concerned with the World Cup itself (the less said about us not being in it, the better), I am nevertheless thankful for the opportunity to indulge in the associated wines.

And what about this little lot, eh?

Several continents' worth of salts and spices

Salts and spices from no less that 4 different continents – from delicately pink and flaky Murray River salt crystals to small, dense crystals of black lava salt from Hawaii – all very kindly sent to me by Chef E. I’m quite sure that I could survive (and well) without any of these things, but I love the foreign accent that they bring to our native staples. Like the African potato stew I made yesterday. The vegetables are decidedly local (the chard, from my own garden, especially so) but not one of the spices used originates here. Could I give up the flavours that they bring? Yes. Would I want to? No, not ever.

An Irish tricolour of veggies: swiss chard, potatoes and carrots

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African Potato Stew

After a little blast of sunshine and warmth last week, yesterday was dull and wet and much more appropriate to this kind of wintry fare. Welcome to the Irish summer.

This stew is based on a recipe found in The Potato: Around The World In 200 recipes, which was published in 2008 as an initiative to promote the then United Nations Year of the Potato. The recipes were collected by Florence Lebras.

The original uses potato, sweet potato and cauliflower, whereas I’ve used my tricolour of chard, potatoes and carrots, and have also added allspice berries to the original spice mix.

As for the raisins or sultanas, when it comes to using dried fruit in a stew, I reckon that you either love it or hate it. If you are in the love it camp, then add them in, but if it’s not your thing, then by all means leave them out.

You’ll need:

• 750g potato (3-4 medium sized potatoes)
• 250g carrot (2 large-ish carrots)
• 300g swiss chard (or substitute spinach)
• 1 tblsp coriander seeds
• 4 cloves
• 6 allspice berries
• 2 tblsp olive oil
• 300g onion (2 medium onions), finely chopped
• 1 clove garlic, finely chopped
• 3cm piece root ginger, peeled and finely chopped
• 1 tsp black mustard seeds
• 2 tsp poppy seeds
• 1.5 tsp fine salt
• 3-4 tblsp raisins or sultanas (optional)
• freshly ground black pepper
• 1 tblsp cider vinegar

You’ll need:

• Spice grinder or mortar and pestle for grinding spices.

The Steps:

• Scrub the potatoes and, leaving the skin on, chop into 1cm cubes. Peel and slice the carrots, around 0.5cm thick or less.
• Wash the swiss chard and separate the thick centre veins and stalks from the green leafy parts. Slice the leaves into 0.5cm strips, chop the stalks into approx 0.5cm dice.
• Place a small frying pan over a medium heat. When hot, add the coriander seeds, cloves and allspice berries and toast, stirring frequently, until fragrant, about 3 minutes. Allow to cool slightly and then grind in a spice grinder or using a mortar and pestle.
• Place a large heavy saucepan over a medium heat. When hot, add the oil, followed by the onion and garlic. Stir and fry for about 5 minutes or until the onion has softened.
• Add the chopped ginger, mustard seeds, poppy seeds and ground spices to the saucepan and stir briefly.
• Add the potatoes, carrots and chard stalks, stir to mix and then add the salt and about 750ml water (enough to barely cover the vegetables). Bring to the boil, then cover, reduce the heat and simmer for about 15 minutes.
• Add the chard greens and raisins (if using), stir to incorporate, return to a simmer and simmer for about another 15-20 minutes or until the vegetables are tender.
• Stir in the cider vinegar, ladle into bowls and serve on its own or with some crusty bread.

The Variations:

• I would certainly consider adding chickpeas to this next time round, and, if so, would use the chickpea cooking liquid in place of the water.

The Results:

• About 4-5 helpings

So, when I was invited recently to not only sample a selection of wines from Cloudy Bay, but to meet their viticulturist Siobán Harnett, I was hardly going to say no. The fact that this invitation also involved eating in Michelin-starred Guilbaud’s again was, er, a bonus – admittedly one that you might actually sell your granny for. None of your fried dandelions on the menu here, no sirree. Instead a range of delicate and impressive eats, designed to complement the ever elegant liquids of Cloudy Bay.

On the Guilbaud's Cloudy Bay lunch menu:
Stewed Basque Pepper Terrine, Croustillant of Dublin Bay Prawns (yeah, I had to look it up too - they're crispy, in other words), Fillet of Charolais Beef, Rhubarb Cheese Cake (with an eminently edible candy-striped white chocolate surround)

Located in the Marlborough region and best known for its flagship sauvignon blanc, Cloudy Bay was one of the first widely exported New Zealand wines. It doesn’t live in the cheap bracket, but mention Cloudy Bay to anyone involved in the business of importing wine here and you will quickly find that it has a dedicated and enthusiastic following.

As viticulturist, Siobán’s job is to grow grapes of the type, quantity, quality and taste profile required for making Cloudy Bay wines. Listening to her, you come to realise that behind every great winemaker is a great viticulturist, one who knows the soil and vines intimately and understands the minutiae of the effects wrought by the weather experienced during every growing season.

Getting to know the Cloudy Bay team

The wines, too, she knows well, and like any good matchmaker, she made the appropriate introductions and let us get on with the job of getting know each other. It was a pleasure to meet them all, from the crisp, sparkling Pelorus and the silky 2006 Chardonnay to the beautifully smooth 2007 Pinot Noir.

There was, though, a special place in my affections for the 2009 Sauvignon Blanc, which Siobán described (in a good way) as tropical and sweaty and had that distinctive grapefruit zing, one of the signatures of Marlborough sauvignon blanc. I had a soft spot, too, for the 2006 Te Koko. Also made from sauvignon blanc grapes, this was a mellower, less acidic and more honeyed affair. These grapes are not inoculated with a specific yeast, but, rather, allowed to ferment using the natural yeasts in the air, a process which takes longer and is more difficult to control. The result, compared to your typical New Zealand sauvignon blanc, is more bass than treble, but it was a true quencher of the thirsts in both mind and body, and very satisfying for that.

He hoped that I had enjoyed my meal. “Ah, that dessert with the rosé…” he murmured, clearly reliving the pleasure of it in his own mind.

I, in return, gushed. My first time to eat at Guilbaud’s and, yes, the dessert course had been as sublime a pairing of food and wine as I have had the privilege of tasting. The rest of the meal I might add (in a clear triumph of understatement) was none too shabby either.

What you would call some very serious eats...

...and the drinks to match

Proprietor of the legendary Michelin-starred restaurant that bears his name, Patrick Guilbaud displayed qualities that I would hope to find in any good restaurateur – a sincere pride in the food served and a graciousness in the service given. His restaurant, well deserving of its top-notch reputation, is the kind of place entirely appropriate to the occasion that had earned me an invite – a gala dinner showcasing Ruinart champagne.

Four very fine Ruinart champagnes, all for me

I will admit that this particular brand of champagne was new to me, but a friend, having seen my drinks menu, exclaimed simply “Ruinart! The world’s best…”. That might just tell you something about it.

I learned more on the subject from Patrick Shelley, French-domiciled Irish man and International Director with Ruinart, who explained that it is the oldest champagne house around, established in 1729 by textile merchants who found that their clients soon showed far more interest in matters of bubbly than in matters of cloth.

And it is expensive, yes. Champagne generally is (er, except when somebody else is paying for it…). And this is the good stuff. Chardonnay-based, requiring delicate handling and bottle-aging for at least 3-4 years in cavernous chalk pits that date from Roman times. The signature Ruinart brand, the wonderfully crisp non-vintage Blanc de Blancs, will go on my wishlist for special celebrations. Fancy or what?

In fact I fully expect, by now, for you to be deeply concerned about the fact that I might be in danger of getting notions far above my humble spud station, dazzled by the bright lights of Michelin-stardom. Rest assured, however, that I will not be allowed to forget that ’tis far from Michelin-starred eateries and champagne that I was raised. My mother, for one, can be trusted to bring it right back down to the things that matter:

“You got a good feed so”, says she, “that’s the main thing”.

E is for Easter, E is for Eggs

Spell it with food.

That was the mission for those who chose to accept this year’s Eating Your Words Challenge. I chose, as you may have guessed from the picture above, to spell it with eggs. Bizarrely, I have Yellow Tail wines to thank for the eggy inspiration and you may very well end up with reason to thank them too.

You see, the folks who distribute Yellow Tail here contacted me with an offer of an Easter hamper for a Spud reader, containing several bottles of Yellow Tail shiraz, along with lots of Lindt Chilli Chocolate (worth a try with the spicy shiraz), a Lindt Easter Egg and some Easter bunnies (the chocolate kind).

A little something for you, the reader

They proposed that a little reader competition to win said goodies might involve ideas for eggs, it being an Easter hamper ‘n’ all. The suggestion was enough to get my creative yolks flowing and very soon, I found myself carving out edible eggy words. So I got to complete my mission and one of you readers gets a winey, chocolatey hamper. I’d call that a win-win situation.

So leave a comment below if you want to be in with a shout for the hamper and, to borrow a slogan from a rather well-known brand of chocolate gooey egg, you can tell me how you like to eat yours (your eggs, I mean).

I’ll leave this open until next Tuesday March 30th at 6pm (GMT), which will hopefully allow enough time for the winner to get their delivery in time for Easter. I’ll select the winner as randomly as I can and, yes, you will need an address somewhere in the Republic of Ireland at which to receive the goods.

Update 31/3/10: And the winner of the winey chocolatey hamper is… Yvonne Carty, who says that she likes her eggs scrambled with some chili and served with smoked salmon. Wouldn’t say no to some of that myself! Congratulations Yvonne & Happy Easter.

Now, though, it seems only fair that I show you how I like to eat mine. In fact, let me spell it out for you.

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Inside-out Eggs

So here it is then, my entry for the Eating Your Words Challenge 2010, hosted by Tangled Noodle and Savor The Thyme.

The idea is simple: cut shapes out of a plain omelette, refill with reserved egg whites et voilà – white and yellow have swapped their usual places. You can, of course, adjust the amounts here to suit the size of pan you want to use. You’re aiming to make a thick-ish omelette, which is easier to work with when it comes to cutting and refilling.

You’ll need:

• 6 medium eggs
• 0.25 tsp fine salt
• oil for frying

You’ll also need:

• A shallow, preferably non-stick frying pan – mine was about 24cm diameter – and a plate that is slightly wider than the pan onto which you can slide the omelette.
• Cutters for whatever shapes you want to cut out. A small sharp knife is also useful for those occasions where the cutter does not cut right the way through.

The Steps:

• Separate 2 of the eggs and keep the whites aside.
• In a medium-sized bowl, whisk the 2 egg yolks and remaining 4 eggs. Add the salt and whisk again. You can add other herbs or spices here as the mood takes you.
• Place your pan over a medium heat. When hot, add 1-2 tsp of olive oil (or another vegetable oil if you prefer).
• Pour in the beaten egg and swirl it around to coat the pan. Cook over a medium heat for around 5 minutes or until it is has just about set right through. Note that I didn’t turn the omelette in the pan as I wanted to keep everything nicely yellow on one side.
• Slide the omelette off the pan and onto your plate. Using your cutters, carefully cut out the desired shapes, employing a small sharp knife if necessary to complete the separation. Remove the shapes and set them aside.
• Place your pan back over a medium heat, adding a little more oil if it needs it. Slide the omelette back onto the pan and carefully pour the reserved egg whites into the spaces left by the shapes you have cut out. Depending on the size of the spaces and thickness of the omelette, you may not need all of the whites. Cover with a lid and cook for another minute or two, just until the whites have set.
• Serve up and enjoy!

The Variations:

• The shapes used are up to you, of course, and you can add whatever herbs or spices you like to the eggs before cooking.

The Results:

• Plain omelette for 2-3

Argentina.

That’s where I was supposed to be today.

Wining, dining and (as it happens) celebrating my birthday.

However, next door in Chile, which was also on the list of places to visit, they have serious earthquake-type things to contend with, so it really was for the best that I steer clear of the region.

Rather than coming over all blue – tempting though that was – I thought that I would, instead, apply the colour green to the situation. St. Patrick’s Day will be upon us very soon and I fully expect the blogosphere to take on an increasingly pronounced Irish accent in the next couple of weeks. So, if you’re food blogging something with Paddy’s Day in mind, why not join me for a little Paddy’s Day Food Parade on the 17th.

To join in, send an email to paddysday [at] thedailyspud [dot] com including:
- Your name
- Your blog name
- A link to your blog post
- A title for your dish or drink (and, boy, do we do like to drink)
- A picture of same (preferably 500 pixels wide, 72 dpi)
- Anything else you’d like to tell me about it
- Include a link back to this post and use the logo above if you like

I’ll accept submissions up until midday (GMT) on March 16th and post the roundup on March 17th. I’m kicking things off with some potatoes (of course) but don’t feel limited by that. Any food or drink that you feel appropriate to what is our Irish national holiday is welcome.

These bottles once contained carmenère and pinot noir from Chile's oldest winery, Carmen

In the meantime (and as evidenced by the extreme emptiness of the bottles in the picture above), you are likely to find me drinking Chilean wine (mostly especially the beautiful reserva carmenère from Carmen). Goodness knows their economy will need all the help it can get.

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Champ

Not only is champ a classic Irish potato dish, it also, colourwise, just looks downright patriotic – so it seems like just the thing for Paddy’s Day.

A simple milky potato mash mixed with spring onions and topped with melted butter, the recipe here pretty much reflects the formula for champ as included in Monica Sheridan’s wonderful book The Art of Irish Cooking – my secondhand copy of which was originally published in 1965. For those who have never heard of her, Monica Sheridan was our original TV chef and a wonderful writer to boot – the book is a classic.

Interestingly, she titles the recipe “Champ (for children)“, though I think adults are just as entitled to enjoy this. And because I think that champ love should be shared as widely as possible, I’m sending this over to Joanne of Eats Well With Others for what I’m sure will be a mouth-watering Irish edition of Regional Recipes.

You’ll need:

• 800g potatoes (4 medium specimens), preferably a floury variety
• 300ml milk
• 6 spring onions, white and green parts finely sliced
• 1 tsp fine salt or to taste, plus more for boiling the potatoes
• Freshly ground black pepper to taste
• Butter to serve

You’ll also need:

• As always when it comes to mash, a potato ricer is the tool of choice, but it’s not mash-threatening if you don’t have one.

The Steps:

• Peel your potatoes and cut into roughly even-sized slices, around 1-2cm thick. Rinse them under cold water.
• Bring about 1.5l of water to the boil in a saucepan, add about 2 tsp salt and the potato slices. Bring back to the boil and reduce to a simmer. Simmer gently, covered, for around 15-20 minutes or until just fork-tender.
• When the potatoes are done, drain well and return them to the saucepan. Then either let them sit, covered by a tea-towel, for about 5 minutes or place the pan over a low heat and stir the potatoes gently for a minute or so while they dry out.
• Put the cooked and still warm potatoes through a potato ricer if you have one, or mash with a potato masher or, if all else fails, a fork.
• Pour some boiling water over the sliced spring onions to scald them (and preserve their bright green colour) and drain well.
• Add the spring onions to the milk and bring to the boil in a small heavy saucepan. Then remove from the heat and mix into the potatoes, giving a mash with a fairly loose consistency. Add salt and black pepper to taste.
• While still hot, place a mound of mash on a soup plate, make a little crater in the top, drop in a teaspoon or so of butter – more if you like – then scoop up some mash, dip into the melting butter and enjoy.

The Variations:

• It’s a fairly basic mash, so of course you could add mustard, parsley, bits of bacon or whatever else takes your fancy. It is just rather lovely as it is, though.

The Results:

• This amount should serve 4 to 6 people of either the child or adult variety.