Jumping in, feet first
The-Phelan-sisters-early-1960s, that’s me circled.
I've been an avid follower of food blogs for quite a number of years now and from time to time I've thought "Ooo, I'd quite like to have an excuse to write about food. I'd like a legitimate reason to lay daydreaming about tastes and textures and smells. I'd like a real, good, solid excuse to buy yet another bowl (more on that at a later date!). I know... I'll set up a blog." Sorted.
Of course, meaning to do something and actually putting it into practice are two very different things. I've hummed and hawed about my 'angle', my 'USP', my 'offering' (I'm not a graphic designer for nothing you know) but in the end it all boils down to "Why should I blog?" and, more to the point, "Why should anyone want to read my blog?"
Now that at least 6 months have passed since I decided to set up a blog (never one to rush things, me) I've decided just to leap in feet first. As to the "whys and wherefores" I'll just have to work those out as I go. I know I want this blog to reflect me and my interests and hope that somewhere along the way my food style will develop. I have no doubt that it exists so I aim to use these early posts as a mirror for myself. After all, unless we look in the mirror we might never know about that nasty smudged mascara or tucked in skirt or even, how that shade of blue looks good on us. So here goes... "Service, away"
Tastes from my childhood
When I was young our poor mother had her hands full feeding a large growing family on Dad’s teacher's salary. It wasn't so much that we were allowed to be fussy eaters (although my father had his moments) but I think the monotonous regularity of meals didn't inspire her. She was a country lass in suburban Dublin and much preferred to be out toiling in the garden or, more creatively, inside making clothes for me and my three sisters and three brothers. In fact I remember there were 'set' meals for the different days of the week (and never meat on a Friday) with a brown stew always on a Saturday which, as kids, we hated. Fatty gristle wasn't trimmed off then, just chewed until you could force it down. And God knows how long the liver was fried for on Liver Day but it was always served curling and rocking on the plate.
No, Mum wasn't an enthusiastic, adventurous cook and who could blame her? There are days now when I can't face the thought of cooking just for the two of us (yes, really) and so off we pop to one of the many friendly local restaurants near us for a pleasant evening out. Now that's something that NEVER EVER happened to us when we were young. But there were some dishes that Mum made that I do remember fondly and still make today and most involve potatoes in some form. Like most Irish families of the 60's and 70's our dinners were potato based and although we lived in a semi-detached suburban house my parents had ridges of potatoes in the vegetable section of our large back garden. If you've never had the opportunity to dig up some homegrown potatoes, run straight to the tap and lightly clean before steaming and serving with salt and butter then you've missed out on one of life's greatest taste sensations. The mineral taste of the skin, at its best when young and paper thin, zings on your tongue. The whole butter, salt, potato combo is best served with a glass of cold full-fat creamy milk. I can taste it now just thinking about it. O so simple but o so dependant on great fresh, produce.
Another childhood favourite was a dish made with older potatoes; Champ. Champ (and its more famous cousin, Colcannon) reflects the rural tradition of Irish cuisine. Both dishes are simple and call for great produce (Colcannon has chopped up cooked curly kale added to the mash if you'd like to know the difference between the two dishes, see here for a podcast I did for St Patrick's Day a few years ago). The potato variety is vital. You need a floury potato, something like a Desiree, King Edwards, Kerr's Pink to get the right texture to the mash. My mother always served each of us our Champ topped with an individual fried egg but nowadays I substitute that with a healthier poached egg. What doesn't change is the fact that the egg needs to be soft and runny so that when it breaks the golden yoke dribbles out down the piled up buttery Champ on your plate. Bliss!
So for my first food post, friends, I give you... Champ & Egg.
This is not a low-fat dish but mine is not a low-fat life.
Champ & Egg
Serves 4
Ingredients
450g (1lb) floury potatoes (see above)
6 spring onions (scallions we call them in Ireland)
Approx 150ml (¼ pt) full-fat milk
55-110g (2-4oz) butter, softened
Salt and pepper
4 large fresh free-range eggs
Wash the potatoes but leave the skin on. I prefer to steam the potatoes now rather than boil them as I find they don't get overcooked as quickly and you don't want soggy potatoes! In fact, the potatoes benefit from allowing them to sit, cooked, in the steamer for a few minutes with a clean tea towel on top before peeling off the skin.
Chop the spring onions finely, add to the milk and bring to the boil in a small saucepan. Simmer for a couple of minutes to soften and to take the 'onion sting' out of them.Mash the peeled potatoes with the milk, spring onions and butter (adding all slowly so that you get to a fluffy mash consistency you are happy with). Recently I've used a potato ricer for my mash with great results but this is a rustic dish so perfect fluffy, smooth mash is not essential (but lovely all the same) and anyway you've got spring onion bits in it!
Season well, place in a warmed serving dish, add a good knob of butter and keep warm while you cook the poached eggs.I poach eggs one at at time in a pan of swirling, simmering, salted water. I don't use an egg-poacher device but then again I'm usually cooking for 2 and when, as in this recipe for 4, I need more I just use 2 pans.
Serve the Champ in a large bowl with its lovely, melting pool of butter for all to self-serve and dish the eggs out at the table. Accompany it with minty, garden fresh peas for added pleasure.