My desk is all a-clutter. Assorted items clamour for my frequently divided attention, and, lately, suffer from varying degrees of neglect.
Over there, my review copy of Domini Kemp’s new book, Itsa Cookbook, languishes. Frankly I got distracted when I read therein that her granny cooked potatoes in a pressure cooker, and have been more interested by the idea of emulating that than by anything else in the book (though I can safely say that fans of Domini’s Saturday columns in The Irish Times will be pleased to know that they can now get themselves a bookful of same).
Also sent to me lately, a glossary of delightfully named Scottish delicacies. The name alone makes me want to try Cullen Skink, a soup of smoked haddock, mashed potato and onions, though desire and execution are proving, as often happens, to be two very different things.
Other bits and pieces, such as reminders of upcoming food events, like the Food and Wine Christmas Show in the RDS from November 26th to 28th, as well as a slew of potato-related news stories, crowd my inbox.
But none of that and, I repeat, none of that is terribly important compared to Foodcamp.
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