So, how much fish do you think you could scarf down in one day?
If I had been asked that question before attending the fish cookery course in Clodagh McKenna’s cookery school last month, I would probably have underestimated by a long shot.
While I was there, I managed several helpings of gorgeous Thai fish curry, sneaky pieces of fabulous Irish crab from the crab cakes, a glorious pesto-crusted fillet of sole, a more-ish pile of clam-filled spaghetti vongole, not to mention the fact that we were all sent home with the finished crab cakes, some creamy smoked haddock chowder and mackerel fillets with a lovely beetroot and horseradish relish. I feel full all over again just thinking about it.
Clockwise from top left:
Crab cakes; Spaghetti Vongole; Pistachio pesto crusted sole; Thai fish curry;
And yes, I was very full afterward.
Observe closely... this is not your usual carrot cake
Sometimes it takes the merest of suggestions.
Somebody says carrot cake and, before you know it, you have a grater in one hand and a familiar orange vegetable in the other.*
Something happens along the way, though. Your cake bypasses the well-travelled walnut and cinnamon route and takes a turn eastwards, where it discovers pistachios and cardamoms and dates – oh my! In these foreign climes, the familiar cream cheese frosting seems somehow out of place, and is quickly shed in favour of a generous lime drizzle. Before you know it, a new incarnation of an old favourite is born, admired and eaten – and you can’t help but wonder if it’s a touch of eastern magic that causes it to disappear at such speed.
*I hasten to add that I don’t always respond so readily to such suggestions – just in case you were gettin’ any notions, like
Whatever about today being Paddy’s Day (and a very happy Lá ‘Le Pádraig to one and all), I can confirm that tomorrow, in my own little corner of the universe, it will be Biscotti Day. Biscotti Day doesn’t have a fixed date in the Spud calendar, but depends on a particular alignment of circumstances and sentiment which result in me taking a notion that biscotti needs must be made and graciously bestowed upon my fellow workers.
Biscotti and madeira, a match made in heaven