The Groaning of The Credit Card

I’m off to London and then Venice for a little break (Manuela’s uncle has an empty apartment there and flights worked out at €6, including taxes 🙂 ).

Although my credit card is a bit strained, I couldn’t stop myself buying the above D-Lux 5, which has come down in price, for the trip. Although I love my Nikon, I’m getting tired of lugging it around.

I’ll let you know how I get on, and if it was worth the money. If this little Leica can’t take good pictures in Venice, the most beautiful of cities, it truly will have been a bad buy!

Competition for Fungie?

Fungie is clearly not the only mammal who finds Dingle an attractive place.

For the last few weeks, and seal has taken up residence on the pier next to my parent’s house in Cooleen.

I think it’s a pup or perhaps just a small one. In any case, he’s very, very cute.

Naturally he’s not there all the time, but if you want a chance to see him, walk along the breakwater where the Fungie boats are parked. Look for the old wreck of a boat. The slip is just in front of it.

Let’s hope he sticks around!

Flavours, flavours, and more…

Today’s Irish Times Magazine has a review I wrote of Niki Segnit’s Flavour Thesaurus. I met her recently in Dublin and had a great conversation about food.

Anyway, here it is (unedited version):

If you know the kind of person who might buy a piece of Gruyére on impulse only to have it stare at them balefully from the fridge when they can’t quite decide what to do with it, or perhaps someone who is a slave to their cookbooks, someone who complains that cauliflower is boring, or in fact anyone who likes their food, you could do much worse than wrap them up a copy of Niki Segnit’s Flavour Thesaurus this Christmas. It’s a book that’s taking the food world by storm, and both professional and home cooks will find plenty of inspiration inside.

Segnit has compiled 99 foods, divided them into groupings such as “Creamy Fruity,” “Earthy,” “Meaty” and “Green & Grassy,” and has created flavour pairings for all of them. Cauliflower (grouped as “Sulphurous”), for example, she describes as “broccoli that can’t be bothered… keener on the quieter life, snug under a blanket of cheese.” Pairing suggestions for cauliflower include almond, anchovy, caper, chilli, chocolate, cumin, garlic, nutmeg (apparently a favourite dish of Louis XIV), saffron, truffle, and walnut. As intimated above, it also includes hard cheese, which means you’ve just found a use for that Gruyére. The chocolate pairing sounds odd, but if it’s good enough for Heston Blumenthal, who created a chocolate and cauliflower risotto, it’s good enough for me.

If you don’t care for cauliflower, how about beef and cinnamon, pork and apricot, black pudding and mint, or even partridge and pear as an alternative to dry turkey at christmas? The last one you’ll find under the “chicken and pear” section, which is an example of the stream of consciousness quality of the book. An entry might start with pairing liver with oily fish and morph into an ode on ankimo or monkfish livers, which are a great delicacy in Japan. This is not a recipe book, although there are some recipes. It’s not even strictly a guide to ingredients that go well together, since that could be quite boring. It’s a compendium of ideas, combinations, and tidbits, penned in a very colourful style.

She describes anchovies and olives as like “a couple of shady characters knocking around the port in Nice. Loud and salty, they take a simple pizza margherita and rough it up… a detonation of brininess every few bites.” Parsley and caper are “a pair of green avengers, battling the palate-numbing tedium of fried foods. Pitch them, possibly in the form of a salsa verde, against fried aubergine slices, battered fish and crumbed escalopes.” As for peach and vanilla, “As a society lady at the turn of the twentieth century, you were nobody until you had a peach-based dessert named after you.” The lucky ones included Sarah Bernhardy (pêches aiglon), Blanche d’Antigny (coupe d’Antigny), Princess Alexandra, and Empress Eugénie, “whose eponymous dessert was further garnished with wild strawberries and served with a champagne sabayon.”

Niki Segnit started writing when she was made redundant from a high powered job in food marketing, and the idea of the book came to her when she was trying to expand her culinary horizons. She explains that her grandmother didn’t have any cookery books, her mother only had a couple, and that Niki herself couldn’t cook without them. It’s the transformation of cooking using inherited skills based upon a deep understanding of limited ingredients and a limited repertoire, to our current limitless cookery options. With ingredients readily available in our shops, we could readily cook up Thai curried fish, saag paneer or saltimbocca for tonight’s dinner, but we don’t have the traditional knowledge and skills that would have come growing up with those dishes.

“We’ve become ‘Jack of all trades’ in the kitchen,” she says, “with an increasingly wide repertoire. That means, however, that I was entirely dependent on my cookbooks. How could I even begin to think about substituting flavours?”

For Segnit, becoming a creative cook and liberating herself from increasingly creased and food-spattered books meant exploring the concept of culinary fusion. The playfulness and joy she found visiting molecular gastronomy restaurants epitomised the opposite of cooking as drudgery, and she started looking for books that gave a list of interesting flavour combinations. There weren’t any, so she started writing one. She says the book was really composed for herself, with the idea that if she could extrapolate food from the recipe context she could get her brain working and reclaim cooking as her own. Believing that most of us don’t use the sense of taste to its full potential, she wanted to build a library of tastes in her head, tastes that could help unleash creative cooking.

The Flavour Thesaurus will no doubt encourage thousands of cooks to push the boundaries of their cooking and explore new dishes. It is a welcome addition to the age-old conversation on improving the taste of the foods we eat, and it’s quite hard to dip into these pages and come out without salivating. Did you know, for example, that in Scandinavia and Baltic countries, beetroot is commonly paired with salty fish? “The fish and beetroot are mixed with onion, potato and apple and dressed with vinegar or maybe a mustardy mayonnaise. The dish is called sillsallad in Sweden and rosolje in Estonia.” Not your thing? How about coffee and black currant or rosemary and rhubarb? What are you waiting for? Get cooking!

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Not a Cow Town

Thinking it might help the holiday spirit of Christmas in Killarney and bring a bit of craic to Main Street, we decided to transport our talking cow to that fine town and put her in our outside seating area. I think she kind of looks fetching in her Santa hat. A proper Christmas cow!

Anyway, within hours, the Killarney U.D.C told us we had to remove her or they would impound her. We begged them to reconsider, which they did. However, their answer hasn’t changed. We must remove our cow from outside our shop immediately.

Killarney, apparently, is not the kind of town that would let a cow (even a fiberglass one) besmirch their hallowed paving stones. Buskers with rows of dancing leprechauns is fine, but we cannot put a cow in a seating area we have paid for. Go figure.

Not that I really mind the dancing leprechauns. With the country falling to pieces around us, I think people need a bit of cheer and a bit of humour. I thought our cow brought both. Killarney U.D.C. does not agree.

UPDATE (Monday):

Killarney told us today they would impound our cow by 2:00 if we didn’t move it. After we rang, they said we had until the end of the day.

What’s mad about this, is that there’s icy roads and moving it isn’t so easy.

Is it possible they don’t have anything better to do, such as clear roads, than to arrest a Christmas cow???

UPDATE2 (Monday):

Killarney Town Council has just said they might reconsider and let us keep her for the market. Fingers crossed!

Pink Peppercorn Ice Cream

I love pink peppercorns. They have an amazing flavour – peppery, fruity, complex, and we thought they’d make a great ice cream. Interestingly, pink peppercorns are not actually peppercorns, but rather dried berries from the Baies rose plant. They come from Madagascar, where many great things are grown.

This ice cream is spicy, and frankly it’s a bit confusing on the palate. I think it’s because of the complexity of flavour that reminds one of something and yet is a bit elusive. I’ll give the recipe here, but it’s a bit of a work in progress. We’re thinking of doing another version with strawberry, and I’ll let you know how we get on!

MURPHYS PINK PEPPERCORN ICE CREAM

Ingredients:

• 120g sugar
• 5 egg yolks
• 220 ml cream
• 220 ml milk
• 2 teaspoons ground pink peppercorn

What to do:

1. Beat the sugar and egg yolks and until it thickens and lightens in colour.
2. Bring the milk to a low simmer.
3. Beat the milk into the egg/sugar mixture in a slow stream.
4. Pour the mixture back into the pan and place over low heat.
5. Stir continuously until the custard thickens slightly (around 65-70C) and just coats the back of a spoon. Don’t over-heat, though, because at around 76C you will scramble the eggs!
6. Immediately remove from the heat.
7. Allow to cool.
8. Stir in the peppercorns.
9. Whip the cream until it has doubled in volume (you should have soft peaks – don’t over-whip).
10. Fold (gently stir) in the custard.
11. Freeze using a domestic ice cream machine.
You can also just cover and place in the freezer, stirring every few hours.

Yield: 8 servings

Notes:

1. It’s hard to say how spicy your peppercorns would be, so you might need to add more or less!

2. To pasteurise the eggs, heat the custard to 73C and maintain that temperature for at least 5 minutes. Use a cooking thermometer, though, and keep stirring! If the custard goes any higher than 76C, the eggs will scramble. Immediately cover and place in the freezer until cool.

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