“It’s the best thing I’ve ever done,” said David Puttnam.

We were talking about his having taken up residence in West Cork some 22 years ago. Then he glanced down the table towards his wife and smiled, “well, it’s the second best thing, the best was marrying Patsy…”

Either way, it was quite a statement from a man whose career has included film production credits for, among others, the Oscar-winning Chariots of Fire, and it said a lot about how locals and blow-ins alike regard this particularly captivating corner of the world.

View from Glebe Gardens, Baltimore, West Cork

I met David and Patsy in Skibbereen as part of a weekend visit to West Cork for a preview of West Cork Food, a new food tourism initiative of which the Puttnams are patrons. The aim is to provide visitors with an opportunity to meet and visit with artisan producers, and to watch them at work. It’s a proposition that’s bound to appeal to anyone with an interest in artisanal food and the production thereof, particularly given the stellar array of producers who live in, and operate from, this area.

A land of peninsulas and pasture, West Cork is where the revival of Irish farmhouse cheesemaking began in the late 70′s, and the region now boasts what is probably the highest concentration of artisan food producers in Ireland. It’s here that you’ll find, among many others, Durrus and Milleens cheese, Skeaghanore Duck, cheese and charcuterie from Gubbeen, butter, yoghurt and more from Glenilen Farm and smoked wild fish from Sally Barnes’ Woodcock Smokery.

Sally Barnes

It is the aforementioned Sally Barnes who is one of the driving forces behind the West Cork Food initiative, along with Stephen Sage of the West Cork Guide. Prior to my visit, I knew Sally only by reputation as one of the finest smokers of fish anywhere. Over the weekend, we visited her smokery, filleted own our fish, and watched the brining and smoking process. We also listened as Sally talked.

At Sally Barnes' Woodcock Smokery near Castletownshend

Like many West Corkonians, she’s a blow-in, originally from Scotland, but ended up here more than 30 years ago when she married a fisherman. Her fish smoking skills are self-taught – wanting to preserve the fish that her husband had caught and lacking a freezer, she started experimenting, first with a tea-chest and pan, and later with a kiln acquired in settlement of a debt. She later studied food production systems and oceanography through the Open University.

As is the case with many of the producers in the area, she’s both knowledgeable and passionate about her subject and you can’t help but become enthused yourself. Enabling visitors to have access to people like Sally is what West Cork Food is all about. Be warned, though – if you do visit West Cork, you might not want to leave. Staying, in fact, might be the best thing you’ve ever done.

One whiting, ready for filleting

Sally talks filleting and fish

Brining the fish: Sally's formula is simple, she adds salt to water until the fish float;
these whiting fillets were brined for about 15 minutes, others will be brined for shorter or longer periods;
salmon, on the other hand, she dry salts;

Into the kiln for 6 hours of cold-smoking, using beech smoke

Et voilà, a beautifully smoked fillet of whiting

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Potatoes And Lentils With Smoked White Fish

“Nothing goes with fish better than potatoes,” so commented Prue Leith while scrutinising a submission for the fish course of The Great British Menu. I don’t recall the dish in question, but the comment sprang to mind as I thought about what to do with my two beautiful fillets of beech-smoked whiting from Sally Barnes.

Truth be told, Sally’s beech-smoked whiting is such a fine piece of fish that, really, very little, if anything needs to be added in order to enjoy it. Her own suggestions were to either poach it in milk with potatoes and onions or simply acidulate it for about an hour before eating, perhaps along with some spring onions. I took the latter idea, allowed strips of the fish to marinate in lemon juice, while I made a kind of thick, earthy potato and lentil stew to be eaten alongside. It’s hearty, satisfying fare.

You’ll need:

• approx. 200g good quality smoked white fish (I used Sally Barnes’ smoked whiting)
• juice of one lemon
• 2-3 spring onions, finely sliced
• vegetable oil for frying
• 1 medium-sized onion, approx. 150g, sliced into fine half rings
• 300g tomatoes, skinned and finely chopped
• 2 cloves garlic, finely chopped
• 0.5 tsp fennel seeds, lightly crushed
• 0.5 tsp paprika
• 400g potato, peeled and cut into approx. 1cm cubes
• 200g puy lentils, rinsed
• 1 bay leaf
• 1.5 tsp salt
• approx. 750ml water or vegetable stock
• 200g kale, thick stalks removed and leaves finely chopped (or use swiss chard or spinach)
• freshly ground black pepper
• freshly chopped flat leaf parsley (optional)

You’ll also need:

• A large, heavy-based saucepan

The Steps:

• Slice the smoked fish into very fine, narrow strips, spread onto a plate or board, scatter with the spring onions, squeeze generously with lemon juice and set aside.
• Place a large saucepan over a medium heat. When hot, add vegetable oil to coat the pan. Add the sliced onions and stir and fry for about 5 minutes or until starting to soften.
• Add the tomatoes and garlic, fry for another 5-8 minutes or until the tomatoes have softened.
• Add the crushed fennel seeds and the paprika, stir briefly, then add the cubed potatoes, puy lentils, bay leaf, salt and water or stock. Bring to the boil, then cover and simmer for about 10 minutes.
• Add the chopped kale and simmer for about 30 minutes more or until the lentils and vegetables are tender. Add black pepper to taste and additional salt if it needs it.
• Remove from the heat and stir in about half of the smoked fish and spring onions. To serve, ladle into bowls and scatter with the remaining smoked fish and some chopped parsley if using.

The Variations:

• You could perhaps replace the smoked fish with some smoked bacon or leave both out and enjoy as a satisfying vegetarian main course on its own.

The Results:

• Serves 4-6 for lunch or dinner

Four pounds of cheese.

No, despite my near addiction to all things dairy, I am not actually referring to the amount of cheese that I am likely to consume in a single sitting. What that weighty amount of dairy goodness does represent is the amount of cheese thrown out by the average American over the course of a year, according to an article in the July, 2011 issue of National Geographic, entitled How to Feed A Growing Planet. That article, in turn, inspired my friend Jenni to start the Four Pounds of Cheese project – an experiment where participants would document, for a week, just what it was they were wasting, food-wise. Having been brought up to the tune of my mother’s “waste not, want not” mantra, I am programmed to abhor waste. That doesn’t mean that I’m not capable of wasting food with the best of them. It does, however, mean that I’ll feel dreadfully guilty when I do. Needless, to remark, I was keen to join in.

Last Monday, the week of waste watching began and it didn’t get off to a great start.

I ate out for lunch and the salmon I ordered was served in the classic Irish manner, meaning it came with two kinds of potato (mashed and roasted, in this case). Despite a valiant effort, I didn’t manage to clear my plate, so, to my shame, the very first thing I managed to waste were some of those selfsame spuds. And then I did what I suspect many of us do: I ordered dessert anyway. Different compartment, right? Surprise, surprise, I couldn’t finish that either. Sheesh. Waste 1, Spud 0.

Too many potatoes, even for me

Tuesday, for a while, looked like it might go the same way. In a clear case of trying to do too many things at once, I managed to burn what would otherwise have been a perfectly good batch of biscotti. After much cursing, followed by a bout of mature consideration, I decided that, though not my best work, they were still ok to eat. Waste 0, Spud 1.

My batting average for the rest of the week did improve greatly, but only because the exercise forced me to do more forward planning in terms of my food purchases, especially anything perishable. I am often guilty of buying the equivalent of my own bodyweight in fruit and vegetables, some of which are inevitably past their best before they get used, if they get used at all.

I also thought twice about other items that might more usually get thrown down the sink, so I found myself using milk that had soured to make scones, saving vegetable cooking liquid for stock and freezing the undrunk remains of a bottle of red to use for sauces. I also took to exploring the far reaches of my cupboards to see what might lurk therein. Thank goodness for the long shelf life of dried beans and pulses, because several not-quite-empty bags of lentils made for large batch of dinner-time dal.

All in all, then, not a great deal went to waste over the course of the week, so bully for me. I am, however, acutely aware of the fact that I’ll have wasted my time if I don’t try to keep it up.

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Cheesy Cauliflower Pie

Don’t panic, this recipe does not contain four pounds of cheese – four ounces, more like – but I wanted to include it, as it’s really a template for a pie to which you could add whatever cheese and vegetables you have on hand.

It’s based on a recipe I found in Eveleen Coyle’s Irish Potato Cookbook and it was the potato crust that caught my eye. No pastry here, but a crust composed of grated potato, grated onion and egg – an excellent gluten-free alternative for any savoury pie.

I have jazzed the original recipe up by roasting the cauliflower and adding gorgonzola and walnuts, though vary it with whatever vegetables and cheese you have around.

You’ll need:

• 1 potato crust (see recipe below) or use a shortcrust pastry lining, baked blind for about 10-15 minutes before filling
• 500g cauliflower, washed and separated into small florets
• 1 tblsp olive oil
• 50g walnuts
• butter for frying
• 1 small onion, about 100g, finely chopped
• pinch of salt
• 2 cloves garlic, finely chopped
• 1 tsp fresh thyme leaves
• 50g mature cheddar, grated
• 50g gorgonzola
• 4 large eggs
• 100ml milk
• freshly ground black pepper
• 3 tblsp grated parmesan

You’ll also need:

• A 24cm round ovenproof dish, about 4cm deep, and a couple of baking trays (mine were about 20cm x 30cm)

The Steps:

• Preheat your oven to 200C, prepare and bake the potato crust as below.
• While the potato crust is baking, toss the cauliflower florets with the olive oil, spread them out on a baking tray, place in the oven and roast for about 15 minutes, until starting to soften and char very slightly.
• Spread the walnuts out on another baking tray and place in the oven for 5 minutes to lightly toast. Remove and chop roughly.
• Once the pie crust, cauliflower and walnuts are done, turn the oven down to 180C.
• Place a small frying pan over a medium heat and, when hot, add about a teaspoon of butter. When the butter has melted, add the chopped onion and a pinch of salt. Stir and fry for about 5 minutes or until translucent. Add the chopped garlic and thyme, stir and fry for about a minute more, then remove from the heat.
• To assemble the pie, add the grated cheddar to the baked crust, followed by the cauliflower, fried onions and chopped walnuts. Crumble over the gorgonzola. Beat together the eggs and milk and pour over the vegetables and cheese. Add a few twists of black pepper and sprinkle over the grated parmesan.
• Return to the oven for about 25 minutes or until the eggs are set. If the edges of the crust are browning too much, cover with foil while cooking.
• Slice and serve warm with a green salad and perhaps a glass of wine.

The Variations:

• Really, you can vary the filling freely according to the vegetables and cheese that you have on hand.

The Results:

• Pie for 4-6 people

Yes, ’tis true. There’s nothing worse than turning up to a potluck empty-handed when everyone else has brought dishes that people would stampede to get to. Yet, despite having had the best part of two months to ponder the latest five star makeover – which called for a little gourmet creativity to be applied to our choice of seasonal farmer’s market produce – I sat there yesterday morning, deadline looming and nary an idea in my head about what to bring to the makeover party.

hosted by 5 Star Foodie & Lazaro Cooks!

I sipped my coffee and considered the options. Deploying the ‘laptop ate my blogpost’ excuse was top of the list, followed closely by a handwritten sicknote from my Ma. Alternatively, I could take my chances, potter down the road to my local vegetable vendor and hope for inspiration to strike (or, failing that, lightning, in which case I would probably have singed hair but an excellent reason for needing an entirely different kind of makeover). Lucky for you (and for my future hairdressing expenses) the lightning stayed away.

My most local source of fruit and veg, after my own backyard, that is

It’s only a small outlet, but this place still manages to sell at least five different kinds of potato, which, as you might expect, gets a big thumbs up from me. Yesterday, though, it was tomatoes which caught my eye, local tomatoes, going for cheap.

This being the only time of year when it makes any sense to buy Irish tomatoes, I filled my bag with the juicy booty. Even at the height of an Irish summer, though, you’re not always assured of getting tomatoes with full, sweet flavour, so, to get the best out my haul, I started to think that a little bit of roasting would be in order (and better, says you, to have roasted tomatoes than frizzled hair).

Down the way, I spied onions and courgettes, which make such a happy threesome when buddied up with tomatoes that I was powerless to resist. By now, I was coming over all Mediterranean-like, so I picked up some spuds for a bit of native Irish balance, while free range eggs, for some reason, seemed like a good idea.

A little while later, and with the addition of some garlic and herbs from the backyard, and a generous glug of olive oil, a tian – or crustless quiche – filled with slow-roasted vegetables, was born. It burst with juicy roasted tomatoes and couldn’t have been more summery if it tried.

Tian of tomatoes, courgettes and sunshine

Now, I’d be the first to say that this dish is altogether more rustic than gourmet and, as you’ll see, its flavours do travel a well-worn Mediterranean route. For all that, though, I was more than happy to have it grace my lunch plate, and ’twas surely a far better thing for me to eat this than for the dog to eat my homework, or my hair for that matter.

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Summer Vegetable Tian

The name tian, as described by Elizabeth David in Is There a Nutmeg in the House?, derives from the Provençal name for the earthenware dish that this kind of vegetable and egg mixture is usually made in.

The dish could not be easier to put together. Layer the vegetables and herbs in an ovenproof dish, douse with olive oil and slow-roast for an hour or so, then mix the lot with beaten egg, some cheese if you like and return to the oven until set. Then eat.

It’s really a dish to build around what you have to hand. I would have added fennel if there had been any available, along with fresh goat’s cheese or perhaps some feta. You can replace the regular yellow onion with red onion if you like, use oregano instead of marjoram, or add parsley or other herbs of your liking to the mix. It’s all good.

The veg:

• 3-4 tblsp olive oil plus extra for greasing your dish
• 1 small-ish courgette, about 250g, cut into 0.5cm rounds
• 2 cloves garlic, slivered
• 400g tomatoes, halved if small, quartered if large
• half a small onion, about 50g, peeled and cut into 1-2cm chunks
• 1 small potato, about 100g, peeled, cut into 1cm dice, rinsed and patted dry
• 2 x approx. 10cm sprigs rosemary
• 2 x approx. 10cm sprigs thyme
• coarse salt
• freshly ground black pepper

The tian:

• 4 large eggs
• 2 tsp freshly chopped marjoram leaves
• 0.5 tsp salt
• freshly ground black pepper
• 50g fresh, soft goat’s cheese (optional)
• 2 tblsp freshly grated parmesan cheese (optional)

You’ll also need:

• An ovenproof dish, mine was around 20cm x 20cm and 5cm deep

The Steps:

• Preheat your oven to 150C
• Brush your baking dish with some olive oil, then cover the base with a layer of courgette slices. Scatter over the slivered garlic, then add a layer of tomatoes, cut side facing up.
• Tuck the chunks of onion and the diced potato around the tomatoes. Break the sprigs of rosemary and thyme into 2-3cm lengths and tuck them in around the dish also.
• Sprinkle with a couple of pinches of coarse salt and a few twists of black pepper. Drizzle over the olive oil and place in the oven for about an hour or until the tomatoes have started to wrinkle and the vegetables are still fairly firm but can be pierced easily with a sharp knife.
• Remove the vegetables from the oven and turn the heat up to 180C.
• In a medium-sized bowl, beat the eggs well and add the marjoram, salt and a few twists of black pepper. Crumble the goat’s cheese into the mixture if using.
• Tip the roasted vegetables into the beaten egg and stir to mix, then pour the entire mixture back into your baking dish. Sprinkle with parmesan if using.
• Return to the oven for around 25 minutes or until set and golden on top. Serve warm or at room temperature with salads and the like.

The Variations:

• If I’d had a small bulb of fennel, I’d certainly have added pieces of that to the vegetable mix

The Results:

• Serve 2-3, along with salads and what have you.

This year's redcurrants, all three of 'em

This time last year, I was awash with redcurrants. It was all redcurrant shortbread bars, redcurrant and lemon drizzle cake, oatmeal chocolate chip cookies with redcurrants, not to mention redcurrant chutney, redcurrant jam and redcurrant and port jelly.

This year, however, I am without my prolific redcurrant bush and slew of redcurrant treats, having moved house and, sadly, left my garden behind. I did bring cuttings with me though, and these, still in their infancy, have produced a small but perfectly formed crop of three. Alas, ’tis not exactly enough to be making cakes with, but no doubt the plants will get into their fruiting stride in years to come. Meanwhile, thanks to the ancient art of pickling, I still have some of last year’s redcurrants to enjoy.

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Pickled Redcurrants

These are slightly sweet pickles, but still with the inherent tartness of redcurrants. I like to have them ploughman’s style with some mature cheddar, though you could also try adding a few of these to mashed potato or even (as I did last year) make them part of an epic Irish-themed meal. The quantities here can easily be doubled or more if you are blessed with a wealth of redcurrants.

You’ll need:

• 150ml rice vinegar
• 75g sugar
• 2 allspice berries
• 3-4cm piece cinnamon stick
• 1 clove
• 275g redcurrants, washed

You’ll also need:

• One or more jars, enough to hold 300ml of pickle, plus non-corrosive, screw-top lids

The Steps:

• First, prepare your jar(s). Turn your oven on to 140C. Wash the jar(s) 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 jar(s) in the oven for at least 30 minutes. Allow the jar(s) to cool before using. To sterilise the lid(s), dip in boiling water and leave to dry.
• Prepare the pickling liquid by placing the rice vinegar, sugar, allspice, cinnamon and clove in a small, non-reactive saucepan over a medium heat. Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat slightly and boil for about 5 minutes. Remove from the heat and allow to cool.
• When the pickling liquid had cooled, pack the redcurrants into your jar(s) and strain the liquid over them, to within about 3mm of the top of the jar(s). Seal and store in a cool, dark place for about 4 weeks. Properly sealed, they should keep for up to a year. Enjoy ploughman’s style with mature cheeses or try adding to mashed potato. I suspect these would also be a nice complement to pork or ham.

The Variations:

• You could perhaps try adding some ginger to the pickling spices.

The Results:

• Enough to fill one 300ml capacity jar

Yes, we have gotten to that time of year where I think my calendar might actually burst. There are a multitude of things going on in June, each one tastier than the next.

In just a few days time, from Thursday June 2nd to Monday June 6th, the Phoenix Park in Dublin sees the return of the Bord Bia sponsored food and garden festival that is Bloom in the Park. I’ll be going along, which, if last year and the year before are anything to go by, should be a most enjoyable day out.

On Wednesday evenings and Saturday afternoons throughout June, the Campo Viejo Tapas Trail will bring groups to five tapas venues around Dublin including Bar Pinxto, The Port House, Salamanca Dame Street, Salamanca St Andrews Street and Havana Tapas Bar. Participants will enjoy tapas and some Campo Viejo rioja at each venue and will, no doubt be quite happy by the end of proceedings. Tickets are €20 each and you can get more details and book tickets here.

On the tapas trail: patatas bravas

Later in the month, and for four nights only, from June 28th to July 1st, the Jacob’s Creek Pop-Up Wine & Dine experience will be happening at a secret (and I’m told impressive) Dublin city centre location. 30 guests each night will be given a free masterclass with wine expert David Whelehan, while chef Clodagh McKenna will prepare a menu to match the wines on offer. See the Jacob’s Creek facebook page for more information and to request a reservation.

Further down the country, Totally Tipperary on June 25th in the grounds of Cloughjordan House is another in the growing list of local food festivals, and will be showcasing the very best of Tipperary food with the help of food bloggers and local food producers alike.

And, finally, from Thursday June 9th to Sunday June 12th, Taste of Dublin is back, with its usual selection of restaurant stalls, chef’s theatre, artisan producers and entertainment. Granted it’s never a cheap day out, but some free tickets (or better yet, a case of wine) would help, right?

So, do please let me know in the comments if you’re interested in getting your hands on the tickets, the wine or both. You’ll need to have an address somewhere in the Republic of Ireland to be eligible (and, naturally, you will need to be of at least official wine-drinking age). I’ll leave this open until midnight (GMT) on Monday June 6th and then pick winners at random. And for those who don’t win (and even for those who do), there’s always some tapas-trail-inspired patatas bravas.

Update: And the winners are… Maria Murray, who’ll be going along to Taste of Dublin, and David Cochrane, whose red wine needs will be sorted for the foreseeable future. Congratulations both!

Give me an Irish theme to cook to and, yes, chances are, I’ll give you spuds. There’s also a fair chance (me being me) that they won’t necessarily be the kind of spuds you’re used to. That, I think it’s safe to say, is something you’ve come to expect around here.

Take these potato cups: individual shells made from thinly sliced potato and used to serve, well, anything.

Potato cups with smoked salmon

To be honest, I’m not entirely sure how the idea for these potato cups emerged, but emerge it did when faced with the prospect of making something for last Friday’s cookalong with the Irish Foodies group. The group invites any willing participants to make or bake something on a given evening each month and with a given theme. Last Friday’s theme was traditional Irish, and while the spuds might be in a somewhat non-traditional form, they are, undeniably, an emblem of traditional Irish eating. Fill them with smoked salmon or other suitably Irish fillings and you’ve got yourself some individually-sized tastes of Ireland.

Needless to remark, these would be perfect fodder for the Paddy’s Day Food Parade, which is open to anyone who’d care to concoct a dish with our national holiday in mind – I’d love to have your entries.

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Potato Cups

If there is such a thing as beginner’s luck, then that is what I had with my first batch of these. I went from idea – namely to line muffin tins with thinly sliced potato in order to create mini potato shells or cups – to successful execution in fairly short order. My second batch, however, stuck to the tin like crazy so, while these are very easy to make, there is a bit of devil in the detail:

• The most important thing is, I think, the choice of potato. A very dry, floury potato is what you want – I used Golden Wonder for the first, successful attempt; the second batch used Roosters, whose flesh is not as dry and these proved trickier to work with. For those in the US, I would try using Russets. And don’t even think about attempting these with a potato that is in any way waxy.
• Patting the potato slices dry will reduce the tendency of the cups to stick to the tin, though you can avoid the sticking issue altogether by using a lining of parchment paper – though it’s a little fiddly, it will save you a lot of grief.


Winging it without parchment paper

• Try to line the tins so that you get a thickness of about 2 potato slices all ’round. If the lining is too thick, it won’t crisp up, too thin and it will burn easily (so try to avoid having areas that are only lined by a single thickness of potato). Also, if some of your slices are particularly large, you may find it easier to cut them in half rather than have slices that crumple in the base of the tin.

Once you get the hang of these, you’ll find endless uses for them, especially in the canapés and starters department. I filled mine with smoked salmon but any number of fillings are possible. They can be made a few hours ahead of time if you like and I also tried freezing some, which seem to work ok. If you do freeze them, defrost fully before use and give them a minute or two in a low oven to crisp up.

You’ll need:

• About 300g potato (1 large or 2 smallish potatoes), use a dry, floury variety
• 2 tsp vegetable oil or clarified butter
• a good pinch of salt

You’ll also need:

• A mandoline or other implement to cut very fine potato slices and a 12 piece muffin tin. I’d also recommend some parchment paper to line the muffin tins.

The Steps:

• Preheat your oven to 180C.
• Scrub your potatoes very well and, using a mandoline or similar, slice the unpeeled potatoes very finely (about 1mm thick).
• Pat the potato slices dry on pieces of kitchen paper, then toss them in the oil or clarified butter and salt.
• If using parchment paper to line your muffin tins (and I would recommend you do so), cut out squares that will be large enough to sit into each individual tin, otherwise use a non-stick tin if you have one or, at the very least, grease your tins very well.
• To prepare each cup, press a square of parchment paper (if using) down into the muffin mould – it won’t sit perfectly but don’t worry about that, it’ll sit better once you add the potatoes. If you like, you can make cuts in the parchment paper from each corner towards, but not all the way through to, the centre, which should help it to sit a bit better.
• Line the sides and base of each mould with potato slices such that each slice overlaps with at least half of the previously placed slice and so that you end up with a thickness of about 2 slices all ’round (see also header notes above).
• Bake until the potato cups are mostly a golden brown colour – this took about 17-20 minutes for me, but ovens vary, so start checking after about 15 minutes, as these can burn easily. If you’ve used parchment paper, the cups can be removed straightaway and allowed to cool, otherwise allow them to cool a little in the tin before easing them out gently using a knife. They are amenable to any number of fillings.

The Variations:

• The variations here really come down to what you use to fill the cups. In this, you are limited only by your imagination.

The Results:

• Makes about 12 potato cups

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Potato Cups With Smoked Salmon And Cream Cheese

You’ll need:

• 300g smoked salmon, roughly chopped
• 150g cream cheese
• 3 tblsp chopped dill or to taste
• 3 tblsp chopped flat leaf parsley or to taste
• 1 tblsp capers, drained
• lemon juice to taste
• freshly ground black pepper
• 12 potato cups (as per recipe above)

The Steps:

• Mix together the smoked salmon, cream cheese, dill, parsley, capers, lemon juice and black pepper and adjust seasonings to taste. Once you’re happy with it, use the mixture to fill the potato cups and serve.

The Variations:

• You can skip the cream cheese if you like and just serve slices of smoked salmon in the potato cups, sprinkled with lemon juice, dill and parsley.

The Results:

• 12 salmon-filled potato cups

For me, there is a reassurance and a comfort that comes with Christmas dinner traditions.

You know that, like them or loathe them, brussels sprouts will be served (and I, for the record, love them), while you will always clear a special spot on your plate for the yuletide favourite that are roasties.

My Da, though, couldn’t help but ask the question as he saw the spuds being peeled yesterday:

“Are ye making roast potatoes?” says he.

As if it would be Christmas dinner without.

But things change, too. In little ways. Every year.

This past summer, as I cooked my way through a bumper redcurrant crop, I made a chutney that seemed destined for the Christmas table. It might have usurped the cranberry sauce, though, in true Christmas spirit, there was room at the inn for both.

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Redcurrant Chutney

This is really a kind of spiced jam, with definite savoury applications – good with the likes of a Christmas ham, but also excellent served ploughman-style with some mature cheddar, goat’s cheese or stilton. I realise that it’s not exactly the season for redcurrants, though you could certainly consider making this if you had a frozen stash of same. Otherwise, file it away for use with next summer’s bounty.

It’s based somewhat on a recipe for pickled redcurrants which I found here, though the spicing is a little different. The amounts I’ve used are small, but you can easily make double or more if you have a lot of redcurrants to use and it will, of course, keep for months.

You’ll need:

• 400g redcurrants
• 200g sugar
• 2 tblsp red wine vinegar
• 0.5 tsp gnd ginger
• 0.5 tsp gnd allspice

You’ll also need:

• Jars, wax seals and lids for approx. 250ml chutney

The Steps:

• Start by preparing the jars. 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.
• In a large saucepan, combine the redcurrants and sugar. Bring to the boil over a medium heat, then reduce the heat and simmer gently for about 10 minutes, until the sugar has dissolved and the redcurrants are starting to burst.
• Add the red wine vinegar, ginger and allspice. Simmer for around another 30 minutes, the mixture should reduce by about half.
• Pour the chutney into the hot, sterilised jars, to within 3mm of the tops. Seal with a wax disc and cover with lids which have been dipped in boiling water. Store for at least a couple of weeks in a cool, dark place before using and do set some aside for Christmas use.

The Variations:

• Vary the spices according to your taste – you can try other warm spices like cinnamon and/or cloves here.

The Results:

• 250ml chutney

Poor Rufus nearly choked when I told him that the ‘secret’ ingredient in the mash was seaweed.

The occasion was that Irish-themed dinner party of mine and the mash in question was a union of three card-carrying Irish ingredients: potatoes, butter and dillisk.

Dillisk, seaweed par excellence

Dillisk (or dulse) is a purple/reddish seaweed found on the shores of the North Atlantic (or, for those further inland, in health food shops, packaged here in Ireland by Carraig Fhada Seaweed, among others). It boasts very high levels of iron and protein and has a wonderfully savoury, spicy flavour.

Now, I will freely admit that, for years, my knowledge of edible Irish seaweed more or less began and ended with carrageen moss. That changed with Prannie Rhatigan and her superbly informative Irish Seaweed Kitchen, which opens wide a door into the edible treasury of the Irish seashore.

Everything you ever wanted to know about cooking with seaweed
...and more

Not only did I become acquainted with dillisk, so eminently edible all by itself, but I discovered a new partner for potatoes. As quoted in Prannie’s book: “Just throw dillisk in with spuds and you can’t go wrong.” Very sound advice, as it turns out, very sound indeed.

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Potato Gratin With Dillisk

As Prannie Rhatigan notes in Irish Seaweed Kitchen, the possibilities for combining potatoes and dillisk are practically endless. Soften some dillisk in a little water, then chop and add to mash or potato salad or any number of other potato dishes. Here, I’ve added it to a garlicky potato gratin.

The recipe is a slight adaptation of Richard Olney’s Potato Daube from his classic book, Simple French Food, and simple this undoubtedly is. Sliced potatoes, seasoned here with dillisk, moistened with salted garlicky water and a drizzling of olive oil, and then baked.

It’s entirely satisfying on its own, though it would reside happily beside a nice piece of fish too. I quite fancy having it with some tuna steak, myself.

You’ll need:

• 5 cloves garlic, peeled and lightly crushed
• 500ml water
• 1 tsp salt
• approx 4 tblsp olive oil
• 1kg potatoes, preferably waxy, thinly sliced (peeled or unpeeled as you prefer) and patted dry
• small handful of dillisk (about 8g), finely chopped

You’ll also need:

• An ovenproof dish – mine was about 30cm x 22cm and 5cm deep.

The Steps:

• Preheat your oven to 200C
• Add the garlic, water and salt to a small saucepan. Bring to the boil, then lower the heat and simmer gently for about 15 minutes.
• Remove from the heat, scoop out the garlic pieces and rub them through a sieve back into the cooking liquid.
• Rub the base of your ovenproof dish with 1 tblsp of the olive oil. Layer about one third of the sliced potatoes into the dish, sprinkle with half of the chopped dillisk, repeat with another layer of potatoes and dillisk and finish with the remaining potato slices.
• Pour the garlic water over the potatoes (it should just about cover them) and drizzle over the remaining olive oil
• Bake for about 45 minutes to an hour, or until nicely browned on top and the potatoes are tender right through. Enjoy on its own or perhaps along with a nice piece of fish – I quite fancy having it with some tuna steak myself.

The Variations:

• To revert to Richard Olney’s original recipe, put 3-4 bay leaves in the middle of the potato layers instead of the dillisk .

The Results:

• Around 4-6 servings of gratin (depending on how much, or how little, you are serving with it).

The astute among you will have observed that this week’s Spud Sunday is suffering from a mild bout of tardiness. If this were school, I’d have a note from my parents to say that it was their 60th wedding anniversary celebrations that had me otherwise engaged this weekend. Either that or I would be trying to convince someone in authority that the dog had eaten my blog post. Sure by the time I got to it, all that remained were these few potato crumbs, your honour.

Lil' potato bits

Still, crumbs though they may be, they are worthy of mention.

They started out life as leftover riced potatoes, spent a bit of time in a low oven, and emerged dried, golden and crunchy. They could easily take the place of breadcrumbs if you wanted to top a savoury pie in a gluten-free way or, fried briefly in a little oil, you could sprinkle them on soup instead of croutons. You might even find yourself eating them as a snack. They will keep in a sealed container or ziploc bag in the fridge for several weeks or they can hang out in the freezer until you have something for them to do. Not bad for a few old crumbs, all the same.

They were worth the tummy ache.

At least, they must have been, because we could never resist picking and eating the apples from our tree long before they were ready (and, in truth, they never got that sweet anyway). We would use them to play bob the apple at Hallowe’en and, later, they would be arrayed on makeshift tables in the shed and would keep us in stewed apple, apple tarts and glorious baked apples for the winter.

Neither, I might add, could we resist climbing our apple tree and, on occasion, swinging from its branches.

My brother demonstrating the fine art of swinging from an apple tree

My brother Tom doesn’t swing from apple trees anymore (at least, I don’t think he does) and, while my parents long ago moved away from the site of that particular tree, there is another in its place.

One of the best things about October: the Ma's Howgate Wonder apples

As my mother’s Howgate Wonders don’t keep particularly well, most of them are stewed and frozen to make them last. At this time of year, though, when they’re not long off the tree, there is no better thing to do than bake them. And my Ma’s baked apples, tasting of times past and present, are, quite simply, the best.

The Ma's apples, baked

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Ma’s Baked Apples

These really are the simplest things in the world to make.

You just need apples, sugar, butter, cloves and either an apple corer or some other means of removing part of the apple core. I improvised with a corkscrew and a spoon handle to get the job done.

No appler corer? Then may I suggest you improvise.

The only other thing that you need to be aware of is that the degree to which the apple flesh softens while baking will really depend on the type of apple you use. Bramleys, for example, will break down quite readily, while my Ma’s Howgate Wonders are much firmer, but they do bake divinely.

You’ll need, per person:

• 1 cooking apple (large or small, depending on your appetite)
• 2-3 tsp granulated sugar
• small knob of butter (0.5-1 tsp)
• 2 cloves

You’ll also need:

• An apple corer or other implement to remove part of the apple core, plus one or more baking trays or ovenproof dishes, enough to accommodate your apples.

The Steps:

• Preheat your oven to 180C
• Cut a slit in the skin of each apple, right around the thickest part of the fruit (around its waist, you might say). This will head off any irregular bursting that might happen while the apple bakes.
• Remove about 2/3rds of the apple core using an apple corer, leaving a base for the sugar to sit on. If you don’t have an apple corer (and I didn’t), you can use a corkscrew or perhaps a small vegetable knife to cut down through the core and, say, a narrow spoon handle to clear the contents.
• Fill the now-empty core with sugar, top with a knob of butter and stick 2 cloves into the butter.
• Sit the apples on a tray or ovenproof dish, pour a small amount of water (say 100-200ml) around them and bake, uncovered, until the skin has started to brown in spots and shrink back from the centre slit. The flesh will also have softened to some degree, though this will depend on both the size and type of the apple – mine take around 30 minutes or so for large-ish specimens.
• Eat on their own or with the very classic accompaniment of warm custard.

The Variations:

• Of course you can use whatever kind of sugar you like to fill the apple, while my Ma sometimes puts sweet mincemeat into the hollowed out core instead of sugar

The Results:

• Baked apples for those that wants ‘em