So here it is, the first post of a brand new year. It’s lean and it’s mean, in line with the convention that dictates an end to seasonal silliness and a return to more subdued, slimline selves. Under normal circumstances, this entry would have been preceded by one of those big annual review type posts, bridging the gap between Christmas roastiness and January resolve, but the turn of the year brought a turn of events that dictated otherwise, so I will briefly summarise 2013 thus: I wrote, I spoke, I travelled, I judged, I cooked, I ate, I pickled, I fermented – and all in the name of the spud.

Spuds sign

As seen at the Spud-Off Mór in Ballydavid on the Dingle Peninsula

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