Father Tom Tehan (with the beard) of Co. Meath at our First Communion; I think that’s me raising my candle and my sister in the back row (we’re identical twins and even I get confused!).

People here always ask me if I have any Irish blood coursing through my veins, and I always replied that I do not. I’m half-Japanese, part German, perhaps a bit Czech and maybe even a little Yugoslavian. But Irish, no – at least that’s what I thought.

And then several weeks ago my dad emailed to tell me that he was looking through our ancestry files and was reminded that his great grandmother (which would be my great, great grandmother) was one Hanora N. McDonough born in January 1872 in…County Mayo, Ireland!? She immigrated to the United States and married Bernard Henry Cook on the 17th of September 1890. So there you go, I’m a bit Irish after all.

Relatives aside, my family has some long-standing Irish connections that I either didn’t know about until recently or just forgot about. Growing up in Japan, we had a very close family friend in the form of an Irish priest: Father Tom Tehan, who hails from County Meath of all places. My parents met him when we lived in Japan, and he has remained close to us over the years; he even flew out to Arkansas to give my sister and me our First Communion. Shortly after I moved here to Ireland, I met with Father Tom for a cup of tea and a chat when he was here for a short visit with his siblings.

Sr. Bernadette at our christening – she is in the second row next to my godfather.

Recently my mother emailed to ask if I could look up a Sister Bernadette Harty of the Sisters of Charity of Nevers in Co. Dun Laoghaire. My mother met her when she attended Sacred Heart College in Japan, and they became fast friends. She told me of how Sr. Bernadette would invite my mom and her friends over to the convent and make them a proper Japanese meal, which was a real treat because the college cafeteria  didn’t serve such dishes. She let the girls stay late after dinner for a chat, a welcome  break from the rigors of college life.

My mother described Sr. Bernadette as a friend and almost like a second mother to her; she helped my mom with her thesis and took her shopping in Shibuya for sewing materials. She was also very honest and down-to-earth; when a young Irish priest that Sr. Bernadette knew impregnated a Japanese girl, she told my mother about it rather than try to hide it.

I don’t remember Sr. Bernadette myself, but she was at my christening in Japan. After my mother’s recent email inquiring about the Sister I did some research and found out that she passed away in 2005. My mother had suspected as much, as it was around that time that she stopped receiving the annual Christmas card from Sr. Bernadette, who was living back in Dun Laoghaire until her death. My mom wanted to visit her when my parents come to Dublin this autumn, but sadly that won’t be possible. However my mom will always have fond memories of Sr. Bernadette and is grateful for her kindness and friendship.

With all of these Irish connections, it almost seems like moving to Ireland was always in the cards. I’d love to find some relatives of my great-great grandmother, so if the name and birthplace rings a bell, please leave a comment here. It would be amazing to meet up with some of my Irish relatives!

Roasted Trout with Zesty Asian Chili Dressing & Braised Daikon

Being half-Japanese, I love cooking Asian food here at home in Dublin. I recently came across daikon, a Japanese radish, at the Organic Delights stand at St. Anne’s’ Farmers Market and I knew I had to make one of my favourite childhood side dishes. My mother used to braise daikon in a mild broth and the process transformed the hard, slightly bitter radish into a flavourful, tender morsel of goodness! I made it the other night with a main course of roasted trout with Asian dressing.

For the trout:

2 whole rainbow trout, gutted and scaled and cleaned

Several slices of fresh ginger (no need to peel)

Several slices of lemon

Bunch of fresh coriander

Salt & pepper to taste

For the dressing:

1 thumb-sized piece of fresh ginger, peeled and roughly chopped

1 garlic clove, peeled

1/2 red chili, seeded

Handful of fresh coriander

2 tablespoons fish sauce

2 tablespoons dark soy sauce

1 tablespoon dark brown sugar

Juice of one lime

1 tablespoon water

Preheat oven to 170C. Line a baking sheet with foil and coat with some vegetable oil. Lay the trout onto the baking tray and salt and pepper both the inside and outside of fish, and then stuff each fish with sliced ginger, lemon and some fresh coriander. Place in the oven and bake for 25 minutes.

While the fish is baking, combine all the ingredients for the dressing into a small food processor or blender and whizz together. You don’t want it too smooth, so pulse until everything is in small bits. You can also hand chop all the ingredients into tiny pieces and then throw it into the fish sauce, soy sauce, brown sugar, lime juice and water mixture.

To serve: Remove fish from oven and drizzle on the dressing. Make sure to put leftover dressing in a bowl on the table – you’ll want more, trust me!

Braised Daikon

1 large daikon

Water

1/2 cup soy sauce

1/4 cup mirin

1 tablespoon brown sugar

To cut the daikon: Peel the exterior either with a vegetable peeler or a knife – the outer layer is slightly thick (even though it’s hard to tell) so you’ll want to peel a few layers if using a peeler. Top and tail the daikon, and then cut into 1-inch thick slices.

Place daikon into a large pot and pour water over until the daikon is just covered with water. Add in the soy sauce, mirin and brown sugar and bring to a boil over high heat. Lower the setting and simmer for 40-45 minutes. Remove from broth and serve in a large bowl with a bit of the broth poured over the top.

Food can be healing in many ways. The joy of eating something that tastes wonderful can make you feel great; the experience of feeling the various textures in your mouth and inhaling the beautiful aromas of something delicious can give you an out-of-body experience. And when you have all of the above, and you’re eating something pure, natural and prepared with love, you’re in heaven.

For me, the food at Il Valentino Bakery and Cafe encompasses all of the above. Whenever I eat lunch there (I’m lucky to have it so close to my office!), I leave feeling happy and satisfied, not stodged-up and tired. From the focaccia pizza and fresh rocket and mozzarella salad to the polenta cake and financiers, everything is made fresh on the premises by people who are passionate about what they do. At the risk of sounding corny, you can see and taste the care that goes into the food at Il Valentino.

When When I first met owners Valentina and Owen Doorly (no relationship to the food critic Tom Doorley), I knew I wanted to get to know them better. Listening to their approach to food and to life – everything with a purpose, with passion and with pride – inspired me; they’re the type of people you want to be near in hopes that their enthusiasm and good energy rubs off! So it was only natural that I wanted to introduce the Irish Foodies to Valentina and Owen.

As we gathered at Il Valentino last Sunday morning, the Doorly’s positive energy was apparent in more ways than one – it was actually bright and sunny outside, enough for us to enjoy our beautiful Italian coffee drinks al fresco at the outdoor tables. We each got to choose something from the pastry case for our breakfast, and I went with a beautiful citrus polenta cake (as did about 1/3 of the group!) which was tangy and moist and lovely.

As we ate our breakfast Valentina explained the Il Valentino philosophy: Food as an expression of cultures and creativity and how it must be prepared with respect. She talked about how the bakery does not add any artificial preservatives or stablisers to their products and how because of this, the breads/cakes have a shorter shelf life than those in other bakeries.

What they’re doing is getting back to basics, back to a time before bread was plugged up with anti-molding agents and chemicals that keep it “fresh” for days on end. Il Valentino is not trying to make the biggest muffin or scone to sell at the cheapest price – you can find a dozen places that push those in every square mile of Dublin. Here it is about making food for nourishment, for both the body and spirit, using basic, wholesome ingredients. Interestingly enough, Ireland has the most coeliacs of any European country, but Valentina opined that it is the stablising chemicals that are making people ill, not the wheat itself. I think she’s right.

After our chat, we were taken downstairs to the “laboratory” – the bakery where all the breads, cakes and pastries are made. We were introduced to head baker Morgan, who hails from Brittany, and Owen explained the mixing and proofing and baking process that goes on 24 hours a day in this humble but incredibly efficient workspace. Morgan then pulled out a tray of fresh-baked croissants and we each got to take one. Honestly, it was probably the best croissant I’ve ever tasted – warm, light, crispy…heavenly.

Though the official visit was over, a number of us hung around for another round of coffees and a chat about what we’d learned that morning – I think it’s safe to say we all felt inspired by what we’d observed at Il Valentino. It’s harder to do business this way: it costs more, it takes more effort and you have to trust that people are willing to pay a little more for quality. Judging by the constant stream of customers in and out of the bakery on a daily basis, it’s clear that people have embraced Il Valentino.

Just want to say a huge THANK YOU to Owen and Valentina Doorly for hosting us, and to the bloggers who came to this meet-up. I’m looking forward to the next one!

Upside-Down Plum Cornmeal Cake

I made this a few weeks back for an Italian-themed dinner party, and it went over quite well. I’ve had polenta cakes in Italy, and I just love the texture of a cornmeal-based cake – they are light but very moist, giving it a slightly dense quality (just like the one at Il Valentino!). This one really holds up well to the plums, and can be served with a dollop of fresh cream or just one its own. I use finely-ground ancient cornmeal, also known as maize, which I get at Nolan’s in Clontarf in the health food section.

Fruit:

6-8 plums, de-seeded and cut in half

70 grams unsalted butter

44 grams dark brown sugar

Cake:

100 grams spelt flour

117 grams finely-ground cornmeal

1 teaspoon baking powder

25 grams almond meal

85 grams of unsalted butter, at room temperature

150 grams light brown sugar

3 large eggs

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

120 ml milk, at room temperature

Preheat the oven to 180C and butter a 9-inch pie tin or glass dish and set aside.

For the fruit, simply heat the butter and dark brown sugar in a large saucepan over medium heat until the butter is melted. Add in the plums and increase the heat to high, bringing to a boil. Cook about 5 minutes and then set aside (you’ll want to put the rest of the cake together within 15 minutes to the sugar mixture doesn’t cool down too much).

To make the cake batter, combine the flour, cornmeal, baking powder, almond meal and a pinch of salt in a medium bowl and set aside. In a large bowl, beat the butter and sugar with an electric beater until light, about 2-3 minutes. Now add in the eggs one at a time, incorporating each one before adding the next. Continue beating for about 3 more minutes, or until batter is light and a bit fluffy. Add in the vanilla extract and mix for another minute or so.

Using the mixer on low speed, add the dry ingredients in three additions to the butter/sugar/egg/vanilla mixture alternating with the milk, beginning and ending with the dry ingredients. Set aside.

Now you are ready to assemble the cake. Take the plums and put them cut-side-up (so the cut side is facing YOU!) in the pie dish, then pour the caramel mixture over them in the dish. Now take the cake batter and carefully spoon it over the plums until covered. Place into the oven and bake for 40-45 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the centre comes out clean. Remove from the oven and let cool for 15 minutes on a wire rack, and then run a butter knife around the edges and flip over onto a plate (fingers crossed for you!!). Let cool completely, dust with icing sugar and serve!

Though I’ve never had an enormous group of friends, I’m lucky to count a good dozen who I can describe as my closest. There are a few of us who’ve known each other since childhood, a few more who met in high school and a handful with whom I connected in college and during my early working career.

Sadly, they’re all back in the U.S. and lately I’ve been missing them something fierce, as an American might say. I miss our spontaneous happy hour meet-ups after work and our weekend trips away and our long, slow dinners washed down with far too many bottles of wine. Skype is a great tool but with the time difference and our hectic lives requires some scheduling, and it pales in comparison to an actual meeting or a night out.

I do take heart knowing that some of my best friends will be here in less than six months for our wedding; it will be so, so good to see them again and to celebrate with those closest to me. The thought of being together again gets me through the more difficult days. But I’m also bolstered by the fact that I’m forming friendships with Mountaineering Man’s circle of tight-knit mates, who over the last year-and-a-half I’ve gotten to know quite well.

His main group of cohorts consists of college friends from Trinity, one childhood buddy and some former co-workers, all of whom have become very close over the years. We’ve done hikes with a few of them, met up for drinks numerous times and I think by now we’ve had everyone over to our place for dinner at some point (and if we haven’t, the invitation is always open so drop us a note!).

I’m incredibly grateful to the girls in the group, who’ve been kind enough to share in my excitement over wedding details. The slightly high-pitched chatter that often comes with talk of rings, flowers, veils was something I worried I’d have to go without, but thanks to them I haven’t had to. Of course I talk to my friends back home on the phone, but it’s been nice to be able to have that experience in person, here, with the girls. And they’re so good about asking for more particulars whenever they see me and forthcoming with approvals and advice.

Every one of MM’s friends is intelligent and kind, and it’s been a pleasant surprise getting to know them well enough to feel comfortable around each individual. It can be difficult it to infiltrate a such a close group, especially one that goes back as many years as theirs. But they’ve welcomed me with open arms and while it doesn’t make me miss my friends back home any less, it helps ease the hardship of being so far away from home.

I can’t wait for all of our friends to meet in Italy, come September. We couldn’t ask for a more wonderful group of people to join us for our special day.

Chocolate Beetroot Cake

This cake is pleasant surprise for all who try it; you taste nothing but rich, dark chocolate cake but more than half of the batter consists of pureed beetroot. I brought it along for a car trip with one of MM’s friends and she was absolutely shocked to find that she got her one of five-a-days by simply eating a slice.

175 grams of plain or gluten-free flour

1 tablespoon baking powder

75 grams Dutch process cocoa powder

250 grams cooked beetroot (use FRESH, not tinned/jarred)

4 medium eggs

200 ml honey

100 ml agave nectar

100 ml sunflower oil

100 grams plain yogurt

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Preheat oven to 185C. Grease and line a 8 -inch cake pan.

Sift flour, baking powder and cocoa in a medium bowl and mix to combine. Set aside.

Place the cooked beetroot in the bowl of a food processor or blender and pulse until the beets are finely chopped. Now add in the eggs one at a time while blending. Add in the honey, agave nectar, oil and yogurt and continue mixing until smooth (though there will be bits of beetroot – that’s fine!). Now make a well in the centre of the dry mixture and pour in the wet ingredients. Using a rubber spatula, mix well but do not over mix!

Pour batter into cake pan and bake for 45-50 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the centre comes out clean. Let cool for 10 minutes, turn out onto a wire rack and cool completely.

I made a quick icing with icing sugar, vanilla and milk and drizzled over the top, but you can top with anything you want! Enjoy!

Recently I was asked to give a talk about my experience of adjusting to life as an American in Ireland for “Enlightenment Night” at the Workman’s Club in Dublin. The monthly event features a half-dozen speakers/performers who each share something that may educate, or at the very least entertain, the attendees. Organised and hosted by the incredibly talented and charming Maeve Higgins, the evening offers a bit of enlightenment on a wide range of topics.

I chose to speak about how – despite all the bad news and negativity in the press about Ireland and its economy – this country has in many ways been my salvation. Don’t get me wrong; my life in Los Angeles was fine, but I felt personally unfulfilled. And I knew the only way to get out of that rut was to change my perspective, which I found impossible to do without throwing myself into a completely different environment.

My talk revolved around the idea of perspective, because Irish people’s reaction to my story of moving from LA to Drogheda (I now live in Dublin, but lived in Co Louth for the first year) is always that of shock and horror. From what I can tell, when Irish people think of Drogheda, they get visions of broken bottles in the street, antisocial toothless teens running amuck and dog poop on every footpath (someone once referred to it as “the armpit of the North East”). But when I first arrived, I didn’t see that stuff; I saw the rolling green hills, the cute cobblestone streets and the friendly people. Yes, the dog poop was there but there were so many other, positive aspects that I didn’t focus on the poop!

I also spoke about my [on-going] education on all things Irish, like the first time I went to the grocery store and realised that I had to buy bags and bag my own groceries. And I found out the hard way that you are not allowed to turn on a red light – EVER – not because I was pulled over by a cop but because my friend practically screamed bloody murder the first (and only) time I ever did that. In the U.S., you can turn right on a red light, as long as you stop and look first. Guessing by the frantic head shaking and high-pitched squeals of my friend, this is not the case here in Ireland. I’m still trying to recover full hearing in my ears after that particular event.

After two years of living here, I still forget to flip the main cooker (stove) switch on the wall before turning on a burner; I can’t tell you how many times I’ve put a pot on to boil and come back 15 minutes later to see that it was still cold. I still curse the freezer and its little drawers, an explicably bad design as it limits storage space by about 1/3. And I will never, ever fully understand the whole immersion heater business. But it’s all these little things that make life interesting and humbling.

Buttermilk Cornmeal Pancakes with Blueberry Sauce

While I’ve embraced many things in Ireland, I’ve yet to truly fall in love with traditional Irish food. Yet I love fresh Irish produce and will often make my favourite American comfort foods using the best Irish ingredients. Some recent meals at our house include the Perfect Burger (<—in my opinion!) and Clare’s Egg Sandwich – both served with baked “chips,” or fries as us Yanks call them. Neither of those really require a recipe, and I make it differently each time. I just get some great Irish beef and juicy Irish tomatoes for the burger, and farm fresh Irish organic eggs for my sambos. And nothing beats a plate of Buttermilk Cornmeal Pancakes with a side of Blueberry Sauce – one of me and Mountaineering Man’s favourite breakfasts. Here’s the recipe:

Makes about 7 small pancakes

1 cup ground cornmeal (I buy maize, which is the same thing, at Nolan’s in Clontarf)

1/2 teaspoon baking powder

1/4 cup spelt flour

Pinch of salt

1 cup buttermilk

1 egg, beaten

2 cups fresh blueberries

1/2 cup maple syrup

Butter for the pan

In a medium bowl, combine the cornmeal, baking powder, spelt flour and salt and whisk together until combined.Create a little well in the flour  mixture, then pour in the buttermilk and beaten egg and mix until just combined. At this stage you may want to add more cornmeal or more buttermilk to get the right pancake batter consistency; these will be American-style pancakes, so the batter cannot be too runny/thin.

Now carefully fold in 1 cup of the blueberries into the batter. In a large saute pan, heat up a pat or two of butter over medium heat. Using a 1/4 cup measure, pour the batter into the pan – you’ll probably get 3-4 pancakes into one pan if you have a good-sized one. Cook for 3-4 minutes, or until bubbles start to form on the top. Flip and cook for another 1-2 minutes. Place in a warm oven while you make the others.

To make the syrup: Simply combine the additional 1 cup of berries with the maple syrup, and heat in a small saute pan over low heat for about 10 minutes. Pour over pancakes.

Lately life seems to be moving along at a rapid pace, but then again that’s what happens when one is planning a wedding. Considering we got engaged in February and are set to be married autumn of this year, we didn’t really give ourselves a whole lot of time!

But that’s okay. We’re not having a big wedding; in fact, we’re having 32 guests total – about half from my side, half from Mountaineering Man’s side. It’ll be our immediate family members, and a few close friends. Despite the small size it will be a real wedding, not a courthouse affair but rather a late afternoon ceremony and evening reception at a private Villa in the Chianti region of Tuscany.

I was never one of those girls who dreamt of her wedding day from a young age; as a kid I put a pillowcase on my head so I could pretend to be a nun, not a bride [and no, I had no designs to be a woman of the cloth – I was merely impersonating my teachers at school!]. But I would be lying if I didn’t admit that this wedding is a dream, albeit one that was never fully formed before I met MM. To be married to this man amidst the rolling hills of Italy, celebrating with close family and friends while feasting on traditional Tuscan fare and drinking wine from the Villa’s own vineyard…I’m pinching myself just thinking about it!

Even the part I was dreading the most – finding a wedding dress – surprisingly turned out to be a pleasurable experience. You see I had no idea that in Ireland, you have to have an appointment to even browse in a bridal shop; in fact, I found this out the night before I had planned to have my first browse around a few Dublin shops. I rang one of them that very morning, and they slotted me in for an early afternoon appointment. I grumbled through my salad as I lunched with my friend Sinead, who’d met me in town for a quick visit. “I do NOT want shop girls fawning all over me, why can’t I just look without making a big deal out of it?” I moaned.

I was still dragging my feet as we walked into Berketex Bride in the Jervis Centre and probably down-right cranky when the girl asked me to fill out a form. I reluctantly did so and then had a quick look around the store. “There’s nothing here I like,” I told Sinead. I was just about to leave when Claire, a store employee, approached me and asked a few questions about what I wanted. “I’ve dressed hundreds of brides,” she said, waving one of her perfectly-toned arms in a big sweeping gesture. She was sassy and funny and immediately made me feel comfortable. She breezed through the shop and in one, fell swoop selected three dresses for me to try on. The first was actually not bad at all – better than I’d thought, but not great. The second fit well, but was a bit too toga-esque. I waved the third away – “Not for me,” I said.

On her way back from putting the third one away, Claire grabbed another dress and showed it to me. Looks beautiful, I thought, but will definitely NOT look good on me. Claire ignored my hesitation and helped me get into it, and when I turned and looked in the mirror, I knew it was the one. To be honest, I was completely gobsmacked; I’d have never chosen the dress for myself as I assumed it wouldn’t suit me. Sinead loved it as well, and her reaction just cemented the deal. Claire put in the order, I paid for it (it was incredibly reasonable in price) and walked out of the shop with a big ol’ grin on my face – a mere 40 minutes after I’d forced myself to go in.

Though we’d already booked the venue, our flights and the band, the dress really made the whole dream a reality. All I can say is that I can’t wait until September!

Light Cheesecake Tart with Fresh Berries

While I’m very  happy with the dress, I will be that much happier when I meet my target weight (I know, such a cliche – the dieting bride!). I just want to feel confident and fabulous on my wedding day, so I’m cutting back on the portions and upping the exercise. For Easter, I wanted to make dessert to bring down to MM’s parents’ house, but not one that would sabotage my healthy eating plan. So I made a lighter version of a no-bake cheesecake, which turned out really well.

250 grams of your favourite low-cal biscuit, or Ryvita fruit crackers (works great!)

2 tablespoons of low-fat butter or margarine, melted

2 teaspoons of gelatin powder

1 cup boiling water

3/4 cup agave nectar

600 grams Marks & Spencer reduced-fat soft cheese (or you can use Philly Light!)

1/2 cup natural Greek yogurt

Juice of one lemon

1 teaspoon vanilla

Fresh berries of your choice (I used strawberries and blueberries)

Fruit jam of your choice

Using a food processor (or a large ziplock bag and a rolling pin!), crush the biscuits until crumbly. Drizzle in the  melted butter/margarine until the crumbs are coated, and then immediately press crumbs into an 8 or 9-inch tart pan using the bottom of a pint glass. Place in the refrigerator.

In a small boil, combine the gelatin and boiling water and stir. Add in the agave nectar and whisk until the gelatin is totally dissolved – about 4-5 minutes. Set aside. In a large bowl, beat together the soft cheese, yogurt, lemon and vanilla with an electric beater. Now add in the water/gelatin/agave mixture and continue to beat until smooth. The mixture will be very liquidy but don’t worry! Pour into the tart crust and place in the refrigerator for about two hours. At this stage, put whatever fruit you’d like on top – it’s best to do this when the tart is not fully set so that the fruit sticks to the cheesecake. Put back in the fridge after you are done decorating with fruit for at least another hour. Once the tart is completely set, I melt a bit of jam over low heat and then brush that liquid over the fruit, just to give it a shiny, sweet gloss!

Enjoy! Keeps for 3 days in the refrigerator.

Recently I renewed my commitment to eat healthier; not necessarily in the caloric sense, but in that I would try to shop locally and eat as much wholesome foods as possible. The less packaged food, the better.

Due to our busy work schedules, I’d gotten quite lazy of late and found myself relying solely on Tesco deliveries for our groceries. Despite the fact that something was almost always wrong in the order – rotten onions, missing items, food with expired “Sell By” dates – it wasn’t until a few weeks ago that I finally decided take back control of my weekly food shop.

The “ah-ha” moment came one evening when I was making sandwiches for Mountaineering Man to take to work the next day. As I ripped open yet another package of sliced chicken sandwich meat, I took a good look at it and realized how disgusting it was. Pinkish, shiny, not a trace of texture and clearly plugged up with salt water and gelatin, it was not nourishment – it was manufactured, God-knows-where-it-came-from processed foodstuffs.

The following weekend, I grabbed my shopping bags and headed straight to Honest2Goodness market in Glasnevin. There I bought fresh produce, homemade sourdough and spelt breads; handcrafted cheeses, pasta sauces and curries; organic milk; and beautiful meats from the butcher. I even got some staples like tinned beans and brown rice there, as they also offer pantry goods. Later that day I got some fresh, sustainable fish from our local butcher shop, which has a small but excellent fish section.

That week we enjoyed the bounty of goods from our grocery shop – but I have to be honest and say that it was a lot more work and effort to do so. After returning home from the farmers’ market, I had to re-package all my veg for storage in the fridge. I rinsed, dried and carefully placed them in large Ziplock bags. Instead of pre-sliced bread in a plastic bag, I sliced the bread myself and wrapped them with paper and cling film. And rather than the weird, pink chicken sambo slices, I baked a whole ham and sliced it every day for MM’s sandwiches.

What a difference it made. MM raved about his sandwiches, and one night as we sat down to a simple supper of veggie pasta, we both remarked at how peppery the green bell pepper tasted. We eat bell peppers every week, but this was the first time in ages that we actually tasted the unsullied, green taste of a simple pepper. The butternut squash was sweet, the bananas tender and golden, and the spinach firm and leafy – nothing like the wilted, tasteless, pre-washed spinach from Tesco that always has a bit of black slime at the bottom of the bag.

I realize this may all sound like obvious observations; of course food from a farm is always going to be better than store-bought. I knew this, but still fell into the big-box grocery chain routine in recent months because we’ve been so busy and it was more convenient. Cost-wise, we’re spending the same. The first time I returned to the farmers’ market a few weeks ago, I took our typical grocery budget with me and that’s all I spent. It’s been the same ever since.

Yes, it costs more in time and effort. Just yesterday after successfully scoring a parking space at St. Anne’s Red Stables market after a 10-minute wait, I realized I had no cash on me. I got back in the car, drove to the ATM and came back, cursing the whole way. And shopping at these types of markets requires flexibility. The producers are selling what’s in season, so if you go with a list you’ll likely leave disappointed. Personally I love the challenge of making something great out of whatever I can find, and I relish the process of looking over my market booty and planning a menu based on what’s there. Sometimes, I have to Google an odd-looking veg I bought on a whim as I’d have no idea what to do with it!

So what are we eating? Irish buffalo mozzarella, tomato and basil pizza and a potato and Irish cheddar pizza with spinach, both on homemade gluten-free crusts; stuffed Portobello mushrooms with a side of roasted purple carrots and baked kohlrabi chips; grilled rainbow trout with mixed greens and baked sweet potato cubes; pinto bean and rainbow chard tostadas with homemade salsa and feta cheese; and a leftover vegetable tart with a spelt crust – our incredibly satisfying dinner at the end of the week. The tart marked the last of our week’s veg, which means nothing was thrown out or wasted. I love that. We’re also getting far beyond our 5 a day.

MM’s lunch sambos in recent weeks have included baked ham on spelt sourdough with English mustard and apple relish; roasted turkey breast on seeded wholegrain with Dijon, cranberry sauce and greens; and this week he’ll be getting chicken & stuffing on sourdough with a yet-to-be determined relish. I just took the chicken & stuffing out of the oven and also finished a big pot of spicy pinto beans, which I’ll pair with some spinach and brown rice for my lunches this week.

I don’t know that we’ve ever eaten so well.

Stuffed Portobello Mushrooms

Though we both do eat meat, we’re generally vegetarian and fish eaters during the week. With such beautiful produce available at the farmers’ markets, it’s easy to be veggie and we really enjoy it. This is one of our favourites.

4 large Portobello mushrooms

1 tablespoon sunflower oil

1 red bell pepper, chopped into small dice

1 yellow bell pepper, chopped into small dice

1 red chili, chopped into small dice

1 yellow onion, chopped into small dice

2 garlic cloves, chopped into small dice

1 large egg, beaten

50 grams of natural yogurt

45 grams of crumbled, feta cheese

125 grams homemade breadcrumbs (I used the leftover spelt sourdough & pulsed in food processor to make the crumbs)

Salt & pepper to season

Preheat the oven to 190 C.

To prepare the mushrooms, remove the stems and using a small spoon scrape out the gills under the cap. Do not throw this away – simply chop al the stems and mix in with the scraped gills. Set both the caps and stems/gills aside.

In a large saute pan, heat the oil over medium setting. Throw in the bell peppers, chili, onion and garlic and cook until soft – about 5 minutes – seasoning with salt and pepper as you cook. Now add in the chopped mushroom stems and gills and cook for an additional 5 minutes. Some moisture will come out of the stems so try and let that cook off. Set mixture aside to cool for a few minutes.

Put the cooked veg mixture into a large bowl. Add in the egg and yogurt, and mix until combined. Now add the feta cheese and 100 grams of the breadcrumbs and mix. This is the filling.

Take the mushroom caps and lay them top side up in a baking dish. Sprinkle a bit of salt and pepper inside each cap. Divide the filling separately into the four caps. Sprinkle the top with the remaining breadcrumbs and place into the oven for 25 minutes.

Enjoy!

When I was a kid, I loved to fish. For a short time we lived in rural Arkansas and like most kids in the area we’d go fishing in the lake or in the creek (or “crick” if you’re saying it like a true Arkansan). At first my dad got my sister and me plain bamboo poles with a string and a hook tied to the end, but eventually we graduated onto real fishing poles complete with a reel (for real!).

He taught us how to scale and even gut the fish we caught, and sometimes we’d wrap them in foil with some lemon slices and a squeeze of mayonnaise (weird I know, but so good) and throw them over a campfire to cook. Other times we’d cook them up at home on the stovetop – but either way, the fact that we’d caught it ourselves made the fish that much more delicious.

So it was wonderful to go fishing a couple of weeks ago in West Cork, part of our weekend away at Inchydoney Lodge & Spa. The hotel offers short trips out to sea with local fisherman, complete with poles, reels, bait and anything else you’ll need. Mountaineering Man and I, along with a handful of other food bloggers, embarked on a two-hour tour of the local seas and had the time of our lives. Within seconds of putting his line in the water, MM had four fish on his hooks!

The pollack, coley and mackerel sure were biting that day, and I handily caught six within an hour. Our boat, with 7 fishermen and fisherwomen on board, scored a total of 22 fish – plenty for a fine feast of a lunch!

The hotel cooks took our booty and turned it into an incredible lunch spread, which included housemade breads, salads and of course the beautiful fish. The chef just kept it simple, dressing the fish with a bit of citrus and ginger – it was light and lovely. The incredible ocean view from our dining room didn’t hurt either; to be eating fish we caught in front of the sea from where it came… it just doesn’t get any better. 

Thanks again to Inchydoney Lodge & Spa for a truly wonderful complimentary weekend and the chance to relive a wonderful childhood memory. We will be back!

It seems appropriate on this St. Patrick’s Day weekend to pay homage to Ireland, my current home and land of rolling green hills, shepherd’s pie and Guinness. Aren’t these the things that come to mind when most foreigners think of the Emerald Isle?

Thing is, Ireland is so much more. And the longer I live here, the more I realize just how much this country has to offer – especially when it comes to breathtaking views and FOOD. I’ll admit that when I first moved here I thought Irish food was terrible: overcooked meat, over-boiled veg and breaded & fried everything. I was wrong.

Last weekend, I sampled the best of Irish food in a place that is quite possibly one of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen. Along with a few other food bloggers, I was invited to spend a weekend at Inchydoney Island Lodge & Spa in West Cork. Though I’d been to Cork, I’d never visited this picturesque coastal area before. With its pristine beaches and lush green pastures, West Cork is an absolute stunner of a place.

The hotel is a quiet seaside escape that has everything one needs to forget bustling city life and relax: a spacious lobby complete with a fireplace and plush chairs, a residence lounge with walls of bookshelves, a fully-stocked bar and a grand piano; a spa offering a variety of treatments; and a workout facility with a warm, seawater pool. As soon as we walked into our well-appointed room (which featured a sea-facing balcony!), all our worldly cares instantly slipped away.

The point of the weekend was to show off the best West Cork has to offer, and I can say wholeheartedly that the mission was accomplished. The hotel’s proprietors, Des and Anne, hosted a wonderful evening where we got to meet many of the area’s most respected food producers. At the pre-dinner champagne reception, we mingled with the owners of Ummera Smoke House, Rosscarbery Recipes, Shellfish de la Mer and more. The incredibly charming and lovely Sally McKenna of Bridgestone Guides gave a fascinating and enthusiastic talk about seaweed, which can be foraged right along the waters in front of Inchydoney Lodge & Spa. 

So it was appropriate that our dinner featured the best these local producers had to offer, as well as some of the seaweed Sally had talked about earlier. The multi-course meal included a gorgeous mini-cone filled with smoked Giga oysters bound with fresh code roe from Con Murphy of Shellfish de la Mer; pan-fried Ummera smoked organic salmon with a foraged sea lettuce salad; wild rabbit loin caught by Dan McCarthy served with the famed Clonakilty black pudding; a surprising sweet sorbet made with organic beetroot picked by John Devoy; and a beautiful roasted fillet of West Cork Beef from Neil Kelleher of Coolcower Meats. Though Mountaineering Man isn’t a huge beef fan, he raved about the fillet and ate every last bite.

The meal finished with a wildly creative dessert that would make Heston Blumenthal green with envy: Sweet Spring Chicken Fresh Laid Eggs, served with bread soldiers. I know what you’re thinking – eggs and bread for dessert? But what looked like a perfectly-cooked, medium-boiled egg sliced in half was actually a sweet, soft meringue filled with tangy lemon curd, and the “bread” soldiers were in fact sticks of buttery shortbread made with oats milled by Donal Creedon of Macroom Oatmeal Mills. The entire dinner, along with this fantastically whimsical dessert, was the work of Inchydoney Island Lodge & Spa’s own Chef Adam Medcalf. Michelin folk, take note!

To be able to sit among those who produced the food on our plates and to hear of how they raise and rear and lovingly grow the ingredients was a real treat, and we felt lucky to be in the company of these hard-working and dedicated farmers and producers. MM and I also got to chat with hotel owners Des and Anne, who were an absolute delight. I really admire their approach to the business; they work hard, don’t take advantage of their position and have immense respect for their employees. The result is a hotel staffed with caring people who seem happy to come to work every day. As guests, we could really “feel the love” and the service was warm and friendly.

While we were invited guests of the hotel, I can say with absolute certainty that we will be back – and will happily pay to stay here again. The hotel and the local area has so much to offer, including kayaking, seaweed foraging and fishing. More on those activities in my next post!

Biscuits & Rosscarbery Recipes White Pudding Gravy

For a while now, Mountaineering Man has been asking me to make biscuits & gravy, a classic American comfort dish that he learned about through Food Network’s “Diners, Drive-Ins & Dives.” As we received some lovely white pudding from Avril of Rosscarbery Recipes, I finally made it this past weekend for brunch. Though I’ve never used white pudding in sausage gravy before, it worked wonderfully and will be using it for this hearty recipe from now on!

Biscuits

(Makes 6 biscuits, so you’ll have some left over – they freeze beautifully!)

113 grams of very cold butter, cut up into cubes

300 grams plain white flour

1 tablespoon baking powder

1/2 teaspoon salt

300 ml cold buttermilk

2 tablespoons melted butter

Preheat oven to 200 C.

In a food processor or mixer, pulse together the cold butter, flour, baking powder and salt until the texture resembles coarse breadcrumbs. Dump the mixture into a large bowl, and add in the cold buttermilk. Using a plastic spatula, stir together until just combined.

Turn the mixture out onto a board or counter, and quickly pat it together (don’t over handle the dough!) and form it into a rectangle (about 9 x 5 inches). Now fold dough over itself in three sections (imagine this is a piece of letter paper, and you want to fold it into itself in three sections). So take one end, fold it into the middle, take the other end, fold that into the middle, then make the log back into the same 9×5 rectangle. Do this again two more times, again keeping your hands cold and using flour as you go to keep it from sticking. Pat or roll the dough out to about 1/2 thickness, and using a biscuit cutter or top of a pint glass (which is what I used) cut 6 circles out and place onto a baking tray. Brush with melted butter and place in the oven and bake for 15 minutes. Remove, brush with more butter and let cool for 5-10 minutes.

To serve, split the biscuit in half (because it’s so flaky you can just pull it apart with your fingers – no knife required!) and face-up on a plate. Pour white pudding gravy over the top, sprinkle with a few chopped scallions or chives and serve hot!

White Pudding Gravy

200 grams of white pudding, cut into small dice/cubes

2 tablespoons butter

2 tablespoons plain flour

480 mls of whole milk

1 teaspoon sea salt

2 teaspoons fresh cracked pepper

In a large sauté pan over medium heat, warm up the white pudding cubes for 5 minutes or until it starts to give off some drippings. I found the Rosscarbery pudding to be quite lean, which is fine, so it gave off probably a 1/2 teaspoon of fat. Remove the sausage and leave the drippings in the pan.

Still over medium heat, melt the 2 tablespoons of butter in the same pan. Add in the flour and stir, making a roux. Because this is a white gravy you do not want your roux to get too dark, so just cook for 1 minute. Now very slowly add in just a couple of tablespoons of milk and whisk; the point here is that you want the roux to start dissolving. Slowly add in the rest of the milk while whisking, and keep stirring for a good 3-4 minutes until the gravy starts to thicken. Add in the sea salt and pepper and white pudding, and cook for another few minutes. The gravy should be quite thick, like a hollandaise sauce.

Serve over biscuits! This recipe is enough gravy for approximately four biscuits.

Things have been so nuts lately I completely forgot that March 4^th marked the two-year anniversary of my move to Ireland. I suppose in one sense, that’s a good thing – living here has become so normal that I don’t find myself counting days or marking time based on when I arrived – or when I’ll leave, if and when that day ever comes.

If I thought the first year of living here was a whirlwind, the second has been a down-right blizzard of activity and major life changes. In the last year, I moved from my humble little apartment in the centre of Drogheda town centre into Mountaineering Man’s bachelor apartment in Dublin 8. We then moved together to our place in Raheny a few months later.

I spent my first Christmas in Ireland with MM’s family, which was lovely (though no sign of snow this year, which to be honest was a bit sad for me!); I’m working like crazy (a good thing) and I’ve made a good number of new friends in Dublin over the last 12 months. Of course there was the engagement (!!) and now I’m in the thick of wedding planning. We’ve already got our appointment at the courthouse and in the autumn we’ll marry in Tuscany (more on that later, I promise!).

A lot of my friends back home ask me if and how Ireland has changed me, and how much of an influence Irish culture and its social culture has been. Because those changes have all happened naturally, it’s hard to pinpoint exactly how they’ve affected me. I know that I’m more patient when it comes to driving; Irish people rarely beep their car horns and are generally very polite drivers whereas in Los Angeles everyone is trying to get one car ahead of you all the time it seems. I’ve become used to smaller things – refrigerators, containers of milk, entrée portions, cars, mailboxes, grocery shops. While America is the land of “bigger is better” mentality, things tend to be quite compact here. I like it.

There are some things about Ireland that I’ll likely never get accustomed to or embrace. When I make scones, I still shape them into triangles, not rounds. I’m still baffled by what the Irish consider “warm” weather here. The other day a friend of mine stated – with complete seriousness – “It’s going to be a warm afternoon, about 14 degrees!” She was referring to 14 degrees Celsius, which is about 57 degrees Fahrenheit, but that is nowhere near warm nor will it ever be in my book. It also seems my body will never, ever adjust to whatever it is about the Irish air that makes my sinuses go absolutely haywire on a DAILY basis. Whether it’s raining, sunny, summer, winter, indoors, outdoors, asleep or awake, I’m utterly plagued by sneezing attacks, sinus infections and head colds. I’ve recently started a new medication which *seems* to be working all right, though this morning I had a 5-minute sneeze-a-thon just after waking. *Achooooo!*

As for the lingo, I now say things I never thought I would. I refer to food as being “nice,” which when I first moved here struck me as entirely odd. “That pie is so nice!” – meaning, it tastes good – is a phrase that has comfortably slipped into my vocabulary sometime in the last 24 months. I refer to chicken nuggets as chicken “fingers” or “gougons,” which is a more fancy way to say it. But I still pronounce Hyundai as “hun-dai” not “hi-un-dai” as the Irish do, and Renault as “re-nolt” not “ren-oh” the way the Irish do. I still spell skeptical with a “k” and tires with an “i.” And it’s hard for me to imagine ever feeling comfortable using the word “grand” the way the Irish do: How are you? “I’m grand!” Just feels weird to me. I still answer, “I’m fine.”

But let’s be honest, I’m more than fine. Ireland, thank you for being so good to me. It’s been a wild two years, and I can’t wait to see what this next year brings.

I Am [Kind of] Transformed Tacos

One thing I miss about Los Angeles is the creative, healthy food that can be found just about anywhere. I agree, it can be a bit over the top at times – I’m not sure if raw kale with wheatgrass juice would be considered “tasty” by even the healthiest health nut. But places like Café Gratitude offer incredibly yummy but healthy fare and my sister recently told me about their butternut squash and black bean tacos, which are appropriately [and somewhat embarrassingly] called “I Am Transformed.” Yep, that’s LA for you! And considering the tacos are packed with healthy ingredients, the name is actually spot-on. My sister recently recreated the tacos, and I have done so as well – altering a few ingredients based on what I had around.

(Serves 4)

8 soft tortillas of any kind: corn, flour, spelt (I make mine with spelt, water and olive oil)

1 medium-sized butternut squash, peeled and cubed

1 whole head of garlic

1 tablespoon olive oil

2 cups of prepared pinto (brown) beans (soaked overnight, then simmered for 45 mins in salted water), or 1 tin of pinto beans or black beans

Crumbled up feta cheese

Homemade pico de gallo (recipe here)

Preheat oven to 170C.

Put the cubed butternut squash into a large bowl and drizzle with ½ tablespoon of olive oil and toss until well coated. Season with salt and pepper and spread out into one layer on a baking sheet. Take the head of garlic and slice lengthwise in half, drizzle the exposed cloves with remaining olive oil and put top up on the baking sheet with the squash.

In the meantime, heat up the pinto or black beans in a sauce pan over medium heat. Set aside over low heat to keep warm.

Place into the oven and bake for 30 minutes, or until squash is tender. Let cool for 5 minutes. Place squash and a few of the garlic cloves into food processor and puree until smooth. Set aside.

Place the tortillas on a plate and cover with a damn tea towel, and microwave until warm (depends on the wattage of your microwave). Now you’re ready to assemble!

Place two tortillas on each plate, then dollop a couple of big tablespoons of the butternut squash/garlic puree on top. Then top with a big spoonful of beans, some crumbles of feta cheese and some pico de gallo salsa. Serve and enjoy!

Though Mountaineering Man loves to eat and [luckily for me] he loves my cooking, he’s not nearly as obsessed about food as I am. And while he’s been doing regular stints in our kitchen for the last few months, he hasn’t exactly morphed into a foodie-o-phile as some may have predicted.

For one, there’s only so much food talk he can handle. Whenever we go on double dates with LikeMamUsedToBake and her husband, he and Mr. LikeMamUsedToBake erect an invisible wall to block out us girls’ hours-long cooking and baking chatter; same goes for when we dine out with Mr. and Mrs. Edible Ireland. The guys are happy to engage in any talk that doesn’t involve food, probably because they all get plenty of culinary conversation from us ladies at home.

And while my idea of the perfect Saturday afternoon involves the latest issue of Bon Appetite magazine, a cup of tea and a fuzzy blanket, MM prefers an episode of Game of Thrones or a few pages of his latest [non-food-related] Chapters Bookstore find. He might “ooooh” and “aaaahhhhh” over the pics of savoury main courses and luscious desserts in the food mags I collect, but his interest doesn’t extend far beyond a few seconds.

So it was a real surprise when we recently discovered a mutual enthusiasm for – wait for it – a cooking show. It took just one episode of Brit chef Heston Blumenthal’s latest Channel 4 gig, How to Cook Like Heston, and MM was hooked. There are no cutesy aprons or frilly cakes on this show; Heston is all about perfecting the art of cooking through science – logic over luck, basically. Each episode features a specific ingredient and a variety of methods on how to bring out the best of said ingredient.

A particularly memorable episode was the one about eggs. In 30 minutes Heston revealed his method for the perfect poached egg and then went on to demonstrate a few of his favourite egg-as-a-main-ingredient dishes. The recipe that caught MM’s undivided attention was Heston’s lemon tart, which as we all know contains a fair few eggs (10 in this particular tart!!). Because many amateur cooks struggle with getting the filling to set properly, Heston developed a fail-safe method and the result was a lemon tart filling with the perfect “wobble.” As the glistening, bubble-free, lemony-yellow slice of tart wobbled on our television screen, we both sat absolutely mesmerized.

“You have to make that!” MM blurted out, surprising himself at the sheer volume of his outburst.

Thankfully there are no major kitchen gadgets necessary for this recipe; all you need is a meat thermometer and a tart pan with a removable bottom. I followed Heston’s instructions to the letter, and the result? An absolutely wonderful lemon tart that is now officially MM’s all-time favourite dessert.

Heston’s Lemon Tart

I will admit that I used Just Roll pastry for this tart because I found Heston’s crust recipe to be a bit tedious, and commenters on various food forums stated they found it no better than a regular ol’ crust. It’s up to you what you use of course but because the filling takes some time and effort using store-bought pastry can save you some time.

For the pastry

· 300g plain flour

· 150g unsalted butter

· ½ tsp salt

· 120g icing sugar

· 3 large egg yolks

· Seeds from ½ vanilla pod

· Finely grated zest of ½ lemon

· 1 egg for the egg wash

For the filling

· Finely grated zest and juice of 5 lemons

· 300ml double cream

· 390g white caster sugar

· 9 large eggs

· 1 large egg yolk

Method

1. Using a mixer fitted with a paddle attachment, mix the flour, butter and salt on low speed until it becomes a sand like texture (approximately 2-3 minutes).

2. In the meantime, in a tall container blitz together the icing sugar and egg yolks with a hand blender.

3. Add the vanilla seeds and lemon zest to the egg yolk mixture and then add to the bowl in the mixer and continue to mix on low speed until fully combined and a very soft dough has formed (approximately 3-5 minutes).

4. Mould the dough into a flat rectangle and wrap it in clingfilm before placing in the fridge for at least 1 hour.

5. Roll the pastry between two sheets of baking paper to a thickness of 2mm, using two stacked 2 pence coins as guides, then place in the freezer for 30 minutes.

6. Pre-heat the oven to 190ºC/gas mark 5. Line a 26cm tart tin (2.5cm deep) with the pastry making sure to press it into the edges and leaving the pastry hanging over the edge.

7. Take a sheet of baking paper and scrunch it up several times to eliminate any sharp edges. Prick the dough with a fork all over the surface. Place the baking paper on top and add enough coins (or baking beans) to fill the casing ¼ of the way up. Place in the preheated oven to bake for approximately 20 minutes or until fully cooked.

8. In the meantime, mix some of the leftover dough with an egg using a hand blender.

9. After 20 minutes, remove the baking paper and coins and, using a pastry brush, brush the entire surface of the tart with the dough and egg mixture. This ‘liquid pastry’ will ensure that any holes will be sealed. Return the tart to the oven for an additional 10 minutes.

10. Remove the tart from the oven and allow to cool completely.

11. When ready to bake, preheat the oven to 120ºC/gas mark ½. Place the baked pastry case in the oven to warm up.

12. Put all the filling ingredients into a bowl and mix together using a spatula. Place the bowl over a saucepan of simmering water and allow to warm up until the temperature reaches 60ºC. At this point, strain the mixture through a fine sieve into a jug. With a spoon, remove the bubbles from the surface of the liquid.

13. Slide the oven rack out a bit, then pour the mixture into the warm pastry case inside the oven. Fill the case to the top, slide the rack carefully back in, and bake the tart for approximately 25 minutes or until the temperature of the filling reaches 70ºC. Allow to cool completely at room temperature.

14. Just before serving, trim the overhanging pastry by running a sharp knife round the top of the tart tin and discard.