Kitchen Casualty

I had my first kitchen casualty this week while making choux (pronounced “shoe”) pastry for the first time. Choux pastry is a cooked dough used to make cream puffs, éclairs and profiteroles. It is one of the most difficult tasks for a chef. The ingredients are simple enough: Eggs, butter, flour, water and a pinch of salt. However, it is the preparation that kills you. I got a blister from all the stirring. People are walking around here with the typical battle scars, burns from hot pans and cuts from sharp knives, but I have a blister from a wooden spoon. Corrine Bailey Rae has a song called, “Choux Pastry Heart” that will have a new significance when I listen to it. Choux pastry is worked, battered and beaten. I must say the salambos (cream puffs with caramel sauce on top) were so scrumptious that is was worth it! Unfortunately they were gobbled up before I could take a picture. So I’m posting a photo of my chocolate mousse soufflé (also very yummy).

When In Rome

This week I experienced my first Rugby match. The Irish don’t watch their matches at home on the tele…they gather together to watch the match at the local pub. “When in Rome” as they say. The Goal and Post Pub in Shanagarry was packed with fans young and old to watch the historic meeting of Ireland and England in the six nation playoffs. The game was being played to a packed crowd of 82,000 at Croke Park in Dublin (which is the home of the Galiec games) because the new rugby stadium is still being built. Although Irish/English relations have improved in recent years there are still old wounds that were opened in the weeks leading up to this game. Apparently during a meeting of the teams in 1921, the British Army assassinated the coach of the Irish team and killed innocent fans. Some felt that the British national anthem should not be played at Saturday’s match as a sign of protest. But true to the reputation of being the most respectful fans in the European Union, Ireland welcomed the English with applause and showed restraint during the playing of “God Save the Queen.” The president of Ireland, Mary Mc Aleese, was at the match and per protocol greeted every member of both teams prior to kickoff. I sat with Sharon, from the cookery school office, and teacher Pam. The three of us were misty eyed before the game even started. We watched with awe as the Irish National Anthem was played and tears streamed down the faces of the massive rugby players such as Ronan O’Gara, Shane Hogan and Brian O’Driscoll. The sense of pride and reverence was astonishing. Besides the brute strength and skill of these men, the emotion helped to propel the Irish to a 43-13 victory. I loved the game and have learned a few interesting things: A “try” is actually a score and if a player is penalized he is sent to the “sin bin.” The only thing I never figured out was the purpose of the “scrum.” It looked like a group hug to me. There are several more matches to go before the championship is decided. From what I am told it looks like the Irish are favored. Go Ireland!! www.irishrugby.ie

Point of No Return

In keeping with the Family Stories theme, I took an excursion to Cobh to visit the place where my grandparents sailed from Ireland. Particularly after spending time with my cousins last week and sharing stories of my grandparents, this trip to Cobh was memorable. Cobh is a seaside town not far from the Ballymaloe Cookery School. It has a naturally deep harbor, which makes it ideal for large ships. Over three million Irish emigrated from this port. There is a Heritage Museum which marks the history of the Irish travelers as well the tragedies of the Titanic and the Lusitania. The Titanic sank just days after its last port stop in Cobh in April of 1912 and the Lusitania was destroyed by German submarines in May of 1915 just off the coast of Cobh. As I walked to the top of the town to visit St. Coleman’s Cathedral I thought of the many people who must have had their last mass there. I was overwhelmed with emotion and yet reflected on the power of the Psalm reading for this week. It must have been a source of strength for many just as it is for me: “God, my refuge, my stronghold, in Him do I trust.”

Wax On Wax Off

This past week was mid semester break for all the schools in Ireland. Because of that, many families came to visit. Gareth, who lives in nearby Blackrock, was visted by his wife and two of his four sons. This photo was taken as a memento of their visit. It is also a memento of the first and last day I wore a scarf instead of a cap. Everyone called me the Karate Kid all day!

It All Starts Here: The Rota Board

My cottage mates Clodagh and Mary demonstrate the anticipation and excitement of the Rota Board. It all starts on the board where we find out each week which kitchen we will be cooking and with which chef we are partnered. We also get our list of weekly duties and we check the board daily for our recipe assignments. In seven weeks I have had seven different partners (Bert, Sophie, Thomas, Victoria, Katie, Lughan, and Mark) and worked in three different kitchens (One, Two and Three). I’ve been trained by ten different teachers and three different master teachers. In addition to my cottage mates and cooking partners, I have met so many wonderful people here. Besides the fifty-five students, there are countless others such as gardeners, administrators, housekeepers and maintenance crews. The entire school functions with a group effort mentality and the family feel is infectious. This is a business model that I am fortunate to experience.

Ballymaloe Cookery School Chefs

Teachers Gail, Sue and Eamer
Teachers Rosie and Emma
Teacher Pam

Ballymaloe Cookery School Chefs

Week 6 partner Lughan and teacher Pip
Week 3 partner Thomas

Ballymaloe Cookery School Chefs

Teacher and school owner Darina Allen about to show us how to pluck and gut a Guinea Fowl
Teacher Rachel Allen showing us the "Thumbprint of St. Peter" on the Haddock and John Dory fish
Teacher Rory O'Connell and week 5 partner Katie (we never actually cooked together because I was sick that week)

Ballymaloe Cookery School Chefs

Week 7 partner Mark
Week 4 partner Victoria
Week 1 partner Bert and his sister Julie
Week 2 partner Sophie

Get Me to the Church on Time

This is how my cousin Michael gets around (see Family Stories posting for explanation).

An Irish Blessing

An Irish Blessing

May the road rise to meet you
May the wind be always at your back
May the sun shine warm upon your face
The rains fall soft upon your fields
And until we meet again
May God hold you in the palm of His hand

My cousin Beatty took me to a place called Knock and on the way we passed this cute thatched roof cottage. While we were there she bought me a "tea towel" and on it is this famous Irish Blessing. I love it but secretly wish it was a potholder (see Hafway (Back) Home posting for explanation).

High Tide on the Irish Sea

Plait Bread

This is a white yeast dough made into a plait (braided) bread. The larger one is five braids and the smaller one is three braids.There is something earthy and beautiful about making bread from scratch...the kneading is so theraputic! The best part was to see the pleasure on the faces of my cousins as they enjoyed it.

Family Stories

This past week I visited my cousins in Tuam, County Galway. It was a magical trip. They live on the farm where my Grandfather Patrick Geraghty was born. I had visited the farm during my trip to Ireland in 1995, but this time I spent two nights there. I arrived with a basket of freshly baked plait bread, chutney, orange marmalade and red currant jelly that I had made. My cousin Beatty, who is a wonderful cook herself, was very appreciative. After a satisfying meal, we talked late into the night and poured over photos. On Saturday she took me up to County Sligo where my Grandmother Winifred Morrisroe Geraghty was born. I was able to meet my cousin Raymond Morrisroe (pictured above). He is seventy now and a cute old Irishman. At one time he lived in America and often stayed with my grandparents. He was quite close to my father. He was very emotional to be meeting me after all these years and we both had tears in our eyes. When we arrived back on Saturday night my cousin Michael had gone to mass. I was curious to know how he got there because we were in the only car they own and so I assumed he must have walked. I was amused to learn that he had driven his tractor there! The joys of country life! Beatty and I went to mass on Sunday morning and on the way back we stopped at the cemetery to see where my great grandparents (Michael and Bridget Geraghty) are buried. I learned an interesting story that when my grandfather Patrick decided to go to America he did not want his mother Bridget to know until after he had gone. So as he snuck out in the middle of the night he put a letter in the bread soda tin because he knew that she made bread every morning and would be sure to get it. In those days the eldest son inherited the farm, and the rest had to fend for themselves. Many Irish knew they could make a better life in America, however, they still must have had a tremendous amount of courage to actually do it. It wasn’t long after Patrick arrived in Chicago that he met Winifred, who had only recently arrived there herself. They soon married and had seven children (my father Kevin being the youngest). Neither of them were ever able to return to the homeland and that is why I feel so richly blessed.

Halfway (Back) Home

Now that I am officially halfway into my cookery course here in Ireland, I have a better vantage point with which to assess this journey. There are many things I’ve learned, loved and longed for.
I have learned to have a greater connection to food. Living on a working farm I have seen where it all starts; from the seed, the soil and Mother Nature’s gift of rain and sun. How food is prepared is something I already knew from my years of cooking experience, but I have a deeper appreciation now that I have learned new recipes. Because this farm is organic there is no such thing as waste. Everything is put back into the land through compost. Feeding the hens is more than an assigned duty to get rid of “trash.” What the hens eat is given back through the eggs they produce. Through first hand exposure to this “cycle of life” I have learned to have a more complex palette. When I taste food now I take time to savor it and think of all the work, seen and unseen, that went into it.
I have loved the beauty of the Irish landscape; the one hundred different shades of green, the soothing rain, the colorful sunsets, the brooding Irish Sea and the most amazing rainbows I have ever witnessed.
I have longed for potholders. Yes, potholders! For some reason, they don’t have potholders here, only “tea towels” (dish towels) which don’t seem to protect the hands from red hot, just out of the oven casserole dishes.
AND OF COURSE I have longed for my loved ones. It is a long time to be away and I have been feeling homesick.

**NOTE: This photo was taken by me one afternoon on a break from demonstration. I stuck my camera out of the school window. In no way shape or form has this been photo shopped (not that I would know how to do that anyway). Can you see the double rainbow?

Kiss

Oh but to kiss the land of your forefathers
the comfort you will feel
And to break bread with long lost kin
you'll be fed long after the meal

Early Morning Duty Picking Herbs

That's herbs with a hard "H"

Sending My Love

1 John 4:7
"Let us love one another because love is of God"

Church of the Immaculate Conception in Shanagarry, County Cork

This is where I have been attending Mass since arriving in Ireland (with the exception of week two when I was in Dublin)

Look Who's Riding Shotgun

Pasta a la Karen

Although simple ingredients, there is quite a process they take before they come to the table looking like this. The pasta evolution is worth the effort! Anyone interested in tasting Pasta a la Karen?

The Pasta Evolution

Friends

Make new friends,
but keep the old.
One is silver,
the other is gold.
A circle is round,
it has no end.
That's how long,
I will be your friend.
A fire burns bright, 
it warms the heart.
We've been friends,
from the very start.
You have one hand,
I have the other.
Put them together,
we have each other.
Silver is precious, 
gold is too.
I am precious,
and so are you.
You help me, 
and I'll help you 
and together
we will see it through.
The sky is blue,
the Earth is green,
I can help
to keep it clean.
Across the land,
across the sea,
Friends Forever
we will always be!

(Thanks to the Scouts for the lyrics to "Make New Friends")

The Joy of Sickness

Although one might expect to find an entry that would reflect something from the famous book “The Joy of Cooking” this week (number five) has been more of the “Joy of Sickness.” I am always finding life full, or at the very least half full, so even in this most trying week I can say I am appreciative. I was sick the entire week and can’t remember the last time I was THIS sick. It wasn’t because of the Bears loss in the Superbowl, or an overdose of food, but simply the stomach flu. Not a weight loss plan I recommend. Although I was so delirious with fever that I didn’t even know what day it was, I felt disappointed to have to miss class. Apparently I wasn’t the only one afflicted. Many of the other “front row geeks” were also struck down. At first thought, this might seem like a conspiracy theory, since Tuesday was the big Irish Breakfast Cook-off. This IS a land of competition; the phrase “Fighting Irish” ring a bell? But alas, the Norwalk Flu is not the first choice for a friendly feud. So instead of sharing all of the recipes I made this week, I can either comment on what everyone else cooked or share how being sick gave me a GREATER grateful heart. Seeing as this isn’t an interactive site, I’ll have to choose: I am going with the later.
I am grateful for loved ones back home who kept me in prayer…it works! Although it would have been poetic to depart this world from the motherland, I’m glad I survived. I don’t know what I would have done without my cottage mates. Clodagh was grand; making tea and bringing me books to read (even though my eyes were too crossed to read a word). Margaret was a champ for running over to the cottage during breaks in her day to keep the fire stoked so I would keep warm. Mary was sweet, yet firm, making sure I took medicine and drank boiled 7up (it’s an Irish thing). And when I was feeling well enough to eat, Yoko made me Japanese rice porridge. I had a posse of Florence Nightingales. Honestly, this brought all of us in the Playroom Cottage closer. Two staff members from school also helped to look after me. Sharon, who literally runs the office, brought me Lucosaid (sort of like Gatorade) and Pip (one of my teachers featured in the Irish Soda Bread posting) stopped by to cheer me up. It ended up being a delayed reaction cheer up. I was on my bed curled up in a ball when she burst in the room and said with her darling accent, “How are ya?” Immediately her attention was pulled to a framed piece of artwork above my bed. She launched into a five minute art and interior design critique, a total blur to me at the time, and summed it up saying that it looked like a pair or underpants in a frame. I was so out of it that it really didn’t hit me until a couple of days later. I was feeling well enough by then to read my book on Lectio Divina and as I was lying (or is it laying?…anyway) in bed I looked up to my left and saw the artwork with new eyes. I started laughing out loud. It was like instantaneous combustion. I couldn’t stop laughing. I finally saw what Pip was talking about! My cottage mates must have thought I had gone mad, because I was laughing out loud for quite a while. This was not easy considering my stomach muscles were sore from being sick. It was then that I knew that the underwear art had to be the picture for this week’s posting. It really summed up the whole experience. As bad as things got, I ended up laughing in the end.
Another joy in sickness is the notion that simple things are not taken for granted. For instance, I really appreciated my first meal after being sick, especially because it stayed down (and up). I really appreciated my first shower after being sick. And, there is nothing like clean, fresh linens, particularly after being sick. Luckily for me, linens come at the end of every school week. Lastly, I appreciate everyone who takes time out of their day to check the blog. Somehow I feel connected knowing this experience is being shared.
This weekend I’ll continue to recuperate and start studying for next week’s midterm.

Irish Soda Bread

My First Irish Soda Bread! The tradition is that after you’ve made the dough and before you put it in the oven, you cut a deep cross into the bread (this is called “Blessing the Bread”). Then you prick the center of the four sections to let the fairies out of the bread. These methods must have worked. During lunch I sat next to some Irish women who were guests for the afternoon demo and watched with delight as they ate the bread. They didn’t know I had made it, but as they were commenting on how “gorgeous, delightful and delicious” the bread tasted, I wonder if my joyful blush was showing. I hope I made my Grandma Geraghty proud!

Inspiration at the Top of the Stairs

This is a photo inside the Playroom Cottage and the stairs that lead to my bedroom suite. At the top of the stairs there is a large plaque that inspires me every time I pass it:

I arise today
Through the strength of Heaven:
Light of sun,
Radiance of moon,
Splendour of fire
Speed of lightning,
Swiftness of wind,
Depth of sea,
Stability of earth
Firmness of rock.

From the Deers Cry (8th Century Irish)

Thirty Days...But Who's Counting?

Thirty days but who’s counting? My dear Aunt Rosemary that’s who! She has sent me an email every single day since I left and each one is titled by the number of days I have been gone. Well, when I awakened this morning I received my daily email and was stunned to acknowledge the fact that I have been gone thirty days. As busy and fulfilled as I am here I do miss everyone and everything…and I must stress that I appreciate hearing from all of you even if I can’t write back as often as I would like. There is now another chef blogging, a lovely Irish girl named Mags. It might be fun to see another perspective besides Julie's and mine. Margaret's site is:
www.berry-delicious.blogspot.com
I had the pleasure of cooking some fantastic recipes this week such as watercress soup, seared scallops in beurre blanc sauce, apple blackberry cullohill (a delicious dessert with a yummy pie crust) served with fresh whipped cream (my bicep muscle is stronger than ever from all the whisking), beautiful chicken liver pate (I don’t want to tell you how much butter is in the recipe), gorgeous caramelized walnuts filled with homemade marzipan, and “to die for” crème brulee (I had fun with the blow torch making the crunchy topping). One day was devoted to perfecting our omelet making techniques. The highlight? Making pasta from scratch. It was a long process but the taste made it well worth the effort. Monday night we ventured out to a “Slow Food” benefit dinner at the Fire and Ice Café. “Slow Food” is an organization to counter the alarming fast food trend and is spearheaded by Darina Allen and her mother in law Myrtle. They promote the use of organic foods and support cottage industry here in Ireland such as farmhouse cheese. The food was fantastic and it was the first time I had been out to dinner since I’ve been in Ireland. Wednesday was an all day lecture and demo. The morning session was on vegetarian foods and in the afternoon we learned about cooking with filo dough. Darina made over forty dishes in one day! Last but not least I got brave enough to rent a car. I picked up my Nissan Micra yesterday at the Cork airport and by the grace of God made it home. I had planned to drive up to Galway to see my cousin, but she wisely recommended I get a little practice before I make the long trek. So keep me in your prayers as I master the roundabouts!

With Three of My Cottage Mates at a "Slow Food" Dinner