Harry Clarke's stained glass: Crawford Art Gallery, Cork and Church of the Assumption, Bride Street, Wexford.

 The consecration of St. Mel, Bishop of Longford, by St Patrick, 1910

The God Head Enthroned, 1911

 The meeting of St Brendanand the unhappy Judas, 1911

Details from stained glass panels designed and executed by Harry Clarke dating to 1910 and 1911 at the Crawford Art Gallery, Cork

Detail of Saints Aidan and Adrian, 1919

Madonna and Child, 1919

 

 Details feom two lights dedicated to William O'Keefe who died at Arras in 1917 and executed by Harry Clarke in 1919

The Good Life: Late night mid week harvest 10th August

A swift harvest

We made a last minute dash to the allotment tonight to see what could be pulled from the ground before the dense dark leaden rain clouds closed in on the plot. The windy start to the day caused a little bit of damage, and we were somewhat diverted  from our task while we rescued a number of helpless flattened tomato plants. Once these minor chores were attended to, we rushed to pull carrots, fennel and spring onions. A few of the artichokes were ready for collection, as were a few heads of lettuce, and a hand full of pea pods.

It looks like it might be roast fennel tomorrow evening for dinner. The kitchen in the meantime will become nicely scented. Corinne has already targeted a few innocent sweet carrots to munch on for a bedtime snack.

The Good Life: Craving for vrai myrtilles sauvages, Bilberries or Fraochán

When you look forward to the August Bank Holiday weekend you have a certain amount of expectation measured with more than a fair sprinkling of pessimism. The first break since early June and the knowledge that the Irish Summer has passed you by is confirmed when you realise the weather forecast for the August Bank Holiday weekend is going to be dull, overcast and damp at best. In fact you could view it as the departure of the Summer as the weather was going to be in constant decline from Friday afternoon.

Undeterred by the lack of global warming and promised long stretches of sunshine we ventured into the Dublin mountains for a little adventure suitably attired in warm clothing. Our quest was to find bog land as Corinne wanted to see if we could collect what the French call myrtilles sauvages, and are known as bilberries in England or fraochán in Ireland. She has often treated me to Tarte aux Myrtilles or Vrai Myrtilles Sauvages en bocaux while in France. There is some bog land in the Doubs region where these low growing shrubs or vaccinium myrtillus and its related species thrive in the acid soil. They may also be found in some of the forests where the soil is suitable.

 A view of the fraochán still in situ

Bog land is plentiful in the Dublin and Wicklow mountains and we stopped close to Glencree sighting the bright green foliage, and a number of people practically on their hands and knees collecting in the cold mist and rain. At first this might seem like an unrewarding task, but after a few hours collecting by hand you might gather almost three quarters of a kilo of the small black berries. We saw little or no evidence of people having used combs which can be used to rake the berries from their branches. These gather a good quantity of berries quite quickly but also strip the leaves from the small shrubs. As we drove closer to Glencree we saw more and more of these shrubs, not just growing among the heather but growing in thick tufts along the road side and atop the distinctive Wicklow granite walls.

Drawing your fingers through the fleshy green leaves to collect the small berries, you can gather a multitude of little insects disturbing the happy existence of small spiders and ladybirds. Corinne found a frog at one point. During my foraging, I noticed a tiny ladybird moving about climbing through the berries in the container. The ladybird was extremely small and quite unusually coloured. Before it took flight to a safer location, I managed to photograph it and subsequently discovered it was a 10-spot ladybird or Adalia decempunctata. Add another dot to your chart Mister Anderson!  This site has a more accurate distribution chart for this type of ladybird

The "punk" - the 10-spot ladybird or Adalia decempunctata among the small berries

Upon reaching the kitchen we started the lengthy process of cleaning the berries an separating them from a multitude of tiny leaves, twigs and diminutive spiders. Fortunately most of the spiders had disappeared by the time the berries were washed and were not condemned to a watery grave. An average full depth tarte aux myrtilles would employ 600 grams of the precious berries; a few hours work wrapped in a sweet pastry crust. I wanted to preserve a few berries and Corinne, becoming more and more demanding, made a strong argument for tarte aux myrtilles. I decided to scale down the affair, being a moderate diplomat maintaining the vestiges of some control and proposed the option of a few tartlets.

 A close up of the cleaned berries - not unlike there tasteless commercially grown cousins the blueberries

The vrai myrtilles sauvages en bocaux is the least difficult method of preserving the berries. The recipe was given to me by a friend of Corinne's who lives near Frasne in the Haut Doubs, which is very close to one of the few bogs in the area. Essentially you fill a .75 litre Le Parfait jar or other preserving jar with the berries and sprinkle over them two tablespoons of sugar. Seal down the jars and put the in a large preserving pot or bain marie with a lid. Place a tea towel on the base of the pan.; preferably the one you have just destroyed while cleaning the berries. This prevents the jars coming in direct contact with the heat. Fill the pan with water until it reaches two thirds the height of the jars, and simmer steadily covered for 1 hour. Allow to cool and store in a cool dry place away from sunlight. These are great on a cold winters night after dinner served with sweetened whipped cream. Do not forget to compare the colour of your tongues!

Corinne changed her mind (a recently developed fluctuating characteristic which is difficult to accept at times), and wanted a baked custard base filling to her tarte aux myrtilles. Fortunately, this allowed a more moderate use of the berries, and I should be able to make a full tart using a 24 centimeter tart ring. To begin place 250 grams of the berries with 50 grams of sugar in a pot and cook for 5  minutes. Thereafter allow to cool and strain the cooked berries through a sieve retaining the juice. Pour this juice over the uncooked berries and stir - I have about 270 grams remaining!

Then make a sweet shortcrust pastry. I rub approximately 250 grams of flour and 40 grams of icing sugar, together with 125 grams of cold butter. Once it mixture is the consistency of breadcrumbs, add an egg yolk and two or three tablespoons of cold water. Bring the pastry together and place in the fridge for about 20 minutes to rest.

In the meantime you can prepare your custard. There are many recipes for this, but I generally beat 4 eggs with two tablespoons of sugar, and a teaspoon of  purée de gousses de vanille or vanilla extract. Once combined I add to the egg mixture 250 milliliters of milk and the same quantity of cream. Leave this mixture to stand at room temperature. Carefully, roll out the pastry on a floured surface and with the same care and precision place the pastry into a buttered and floured tart tin. Cook the pastry blind at 180 Celsius for about thirty minutes. It is important to make sure there are no tears in the pastry prior to baking because you will be pouring a very liquid custard mix into the cooked pastry case. Taking the pastry case out of the oven, I let it cool for a short period before taking the parchment, and weights or chickpeas, from the case. To firm up the pastry I brush it with a little egg wash and put it back into the oven for a few minutes.

 
Once satisfied the case is not broken or torn, reduce the temperature of the oven to 160 Celsius and return the pastry case to the oven. I find it easier to pour in the custard mix at this point rather than going on a shaky adventure through the kitchen accompanied by frequent spillages. Cook the custard and the case for 45 minutes, or until the custard has a gentle wobble when you gently nudge the pastry tin. When cooked remove the tart from the oven and allow it to cool. Thereafter, gently spread and dot the the surface of the baked custard with the cooked berries. Then spoon the remaining berries and juice on top of the tart. To complete the experience, find a French person, preferably in a good humour, and serve them a slice of this tart with sweetened whipped cream and a cool glass of chardonnay from Arbois, Franche Comté.

An excellent end to the day

Corinne is leafing through a cook book now and has suggested that she would like grenouilles á la creme for dinner at some stage. I guess it is back to the bog for me next week!

The Good Life: August Bank Holiday Harvest

The Good Life: Harvests, poppies and artichokes

While growth remained very slow throughout June, the allotment burst into life during July. Harvests were rather slow and small in the last few weeks but none the less exciting as we reaped the rewards of having a great variety of planting. The strawberry plants predictably benefited from the fine weather early in the year and generated a fine crop which even allowed us to make a few pots of jam. Likewise the gooseberries and redcurrants thrived yielding a tasty crop. The cauliflowers we planted were not so fortunate as they clearly were breakfast lunch and dinner for the local wood pigeon population. I decided to pull the plants and replace them with a number of different tomatoes we had grown from seed.

 A mixed harvest of berries and vegetables from the 26th June

The artichoke plants on the allotment which survived the harsh winter have thrived and continue to produce an abundance of fleshy globes. We appear to have quite a variety of artichokes which is largely the result of trial and error mixed with a certain amount of carelessness as to what was being planted. We like the steamed and left to cool, whereupon we can nibble at the ends of the leaves with a little mayonnaise and lemon juice before tackling the heart. They do create a bit of a mess and a large mound of leaves but they are quite tasty and fun to eat.

A selection of different artichokes growing on the allotment

One brief but very colourful period I look forward to during the year is the flowering of the poppy plants. The delicate and colourful blossom can disappear with a gust of wind. This unpredictable nature means they can be gone in a matter of hours or days and easily missed. They can grow to be relatively large in size and the distinctive matt olive foliage curls and wraps the narrow stems supporting the brightly coloured flower.

In the coming weeks we look forward to gathering plentiful and healthy harvests of beetroot, cabbage, carrots, fennel, potatoes, Swiss chard, peas and beans. A mixture of courgettes are also growing well as are the numerous diminutive cornichon plants. The most prolific plant in this category remains a mystery gourd, because subsequent to planting the informative label vanished. They are yellow and look nothing like courgettes, but they still could be a courgette and only time and tasting will tell! Some of Corinne's large tomatoes are also developing well on the vine under cover. There should be a magnificent crop of these giants in September. The tomato plants in the open are less advanced due to the unseasonal cool weather, but should produce ripened fruit by the end of the season.

The Good Life: The end of the planting season and rhubarb syrup

The artichokes growing fast

June is the official start of summer, but there have been many swallows cutting and swerving through the sky for nearly two months, and the elderflower has been in blossom for an equal number of weeks. While the months pass the weather and the seasons are not predictable; April was balmy and warm and May was very cool with little rainfall. Just about everything that was sewn directly into the ground in May failed to grow and back up plans were rapidly put in place. Despite this disappointment. June has set out on a similar path. Days may be seasonally warm and are then interrupted by quite cool temperatures and even unseasonal north easterly winds. The weather has not upset some seasonal benchmarks; the timid spring primrose disappeared only to be replaced by the ribbons of white thorn blossom and pretty pink and pearl white wild rose flowers in the hedgerows.

While the last few days have had both warm and cold spells we have decided to get on with the planting project over the long weekend. The vegetables cannot remain in the pots and trays under cover for much longer, and the poor recent period of growth has left the allotment beds looking quite empty. The growth and strength of some weeds was quite frustrating and what the cold dry windy weather did not devour the pigeons and slugs have feasted upon. This decimation continued when some trays of seedlings fell victim to storm force winds when they were knocked off their shelf as the green house was relentlessly battered. Alas the aubergines unfortunately are no more! Courgettes, pumpkins, cauliflowers, Swiss chard, cornichons, beans and corn have all survived and have been set into their raised beds joining hardier plants, and winter survivors. Three different varieties of lettuce have replaced recent departures such as the purple sprouting broccoli, winter onions, shallots and pink garlic.

 A bulb of pink garlic in my hand

Despite the sparse amount of produce available in the allotment for early we have still managed to take a decent harvest of sorrel, lettuce, radish, strawberries, an artichoke and pink garlic. We can look forward in the coming days and weeks to the ripening of the strawberry crop, the other soft berries including early raspberries and tayberries, gooseberries and some red and white currants. The runner beans are progressing well and should develop into a decent crop, likewise the artichoke crop is taking over various corners. Our potato crop has grown quite strongly to date despite the late planting (which allowed them to avoid late frosts) and we can expect our first potatoes by the end of this month. While the plants are strong and healthy the lack of rain since they were planted can only mean the spuds may be small or non-existent. The unfortunate reality now is that if we do get a life giving fall of rain we may also be hit with the blight!

 Strawberry blossom and fruit developing

For the days that are balmy and sunny there is nothing quite as refreshing as a glass of chilled sparkling water with a dash of rhubarb cordial. When you have had enough rhubarb tarts, pies and crumbles it is nice to know that you can preserve some of that unique delicious fruity flavour for later in the year in the form of a syrup. 

To make about 2.5 litres of cordial you will need the following ingredients: 2 kilos of washed trimmed rhubarb, 750 millilitres of water, 2 teaspoons of vanilla essence, 1 tablespoon of citric acid and sugar (see instructions). 

Once you have washed, trimmed and chopped the rhubarb, place it in a large stainless pan with the water and cook it until it is well softened. Let the pan stand for an hour and sieve the contents of the pan to separate the pulp from the intensely pink juice. Measure the juice and pour it back into a clean pan adding 500 grams of sugar to every litre of juice, the citric acid and the vanilla essence. Boil the syrup, stirring to dissolve the sugar and thereafter simmer for 10 minutes. Pour the hot syrup into hot sterile bottles and seal down. The syrup should last two or three months if stored in a fridge if it is not consumed rapidly after it is bottled! Beware the seductive pink colour of this syrup!

Harry Clarke's stained glass: St Joseph's, Carrickmacross, County Monaghan

 

Detail from the light depicting St Ceara [1926]

 Detail of drapery from the light depicting St Ceara [1926]

Detail from the light depicting St Ceara [1926]

 

Detail from the light depicting St Fachnea [1928]

Detail from the light depicting St Tigernach [1928]

Detail from the light depicting St Enda [1928] 

Detail from the light depicting St Enda [1928]

Detail of tghe lower panel from the light depicting St Dympna [1928]

The Good Life: Purple Sprouting Broccoli,Wild Garlic and Rhubarb Clafoutis

Balmy evening at the Allotment on 17th April

The recent spell of good weather has propelled the countryside into life. Swathes of wild garlic can be seen in ditches and on the road side with their heavy scent lingering in the air. Even the elderflower, has made an early appearance in places. In the allotment the turn of the seasons is clearly evident with the first spears of asparagus breaking through the soil and the cascades of flowers developing on the currant bushes. Joy of joys; my gooseberry bushes have small fruit developing among the thick healthy green foliage.

Many of the seeds sewn in the newly raked and manicured beds remain dormant, but the peas and broad beans are showing some signs of life. The odd long lost potato may also be making an early appearance and will no doubt greet his brethren when they rise from their well formed drills not far away. To vary our crop and the timing of our harvest this year we have planted Duke of York and Roosters this year.

Purple sprouting broccoli

One of the long awaited treats has survived the winter and flourished during the clement Spring conditions. Growing purple sprouting  broccoli is a game of patience. You wait a year and just when you think nothing is about to happen and the plants, are almost destined for the compost heap, they begin to produce their purple florets. The plants are not very distinguished, and easily ignored for most of the year, but once they begin to produce our bounty the plant becomes very lush and attractive to look at.

We have been harvesting the rhubarb for a number of weeks now, and recently Corinne hinted that she would like to have a clafoutis made with the rhubarb. In the absence of cherries from France rhubarb from Dublin was an extraordinarily good idea. I used the following recipe which was cooked in a 8.5 inch oven dish. The ingredients are as follows: About 5 sticks of rhubarb or enough to randomly dot the base of the dish, a little butter to grease the dish, 300mls of milk, 3 eggs, 80g of Sugar, 80g of flour, 1 teaspoon of baking powder, a pinch of salt, a teaspoon of vanilla extract, and two teaspoons of eau de vie.

In a food processor, beat the eggs and sugar for a few minutes. Thereafter add the vanilla essence, salt and milk and combine well. Finally, add the sifted flour and baking powder, and pulse the food processor until the flour has been lightly absorbed into the batter. Wash and chop the rhubarb in about 1.5 inch lengths and generously butter the dish. When the rhubarb is stood on end in the dish, the batter can be carefully poured over the rhubarb and should rise to meet the top of the rhubarb. Try not to cover the rhubarb. Spoon the eau de vie over the batter and rhubarb and place in a 180 C oven for 45 minutes, or until the clafoutis is well risen and golden brown. Allow it to cool, but serve it warm with either sweetened whipped cream or vanilla ice cream for best results. In celebration of the end of the lenten period you may as well have both! A very good plan "b" is to eat the left over cold clafoutis for breakfast with black coffee the next day.

Corinne has found a new friend

The Good Life - A Spring Harvest on 17th March

The French say "Rosée à la Chandeleur, l'hiver à sa dernière heure". This roughly translates as 'If there is a dew on Pancake Tuesday the Winter is in its final hour'. There was a hard frost on the morning of the 8th March, and while the days are becoming longer, and the sun is getting higher in the sky and stronger, the effects of Winter have not fully departed. Consequently, we have been shy to sew any seed as yet, and have committed no potatoes to the ground. However, the hard work has begun and there has been a significant amount of digging taking place as we are trying to reinstate the raised beds.

While the beds in the allotment look somewhat bare, in some patches there is evidence of strong growth as evidenced by the flourish of rhubarb, sorrel, chives and mache. Elsewhere, fresh new green leaves are shooting on the berry bushes. The crop of leeks and Jerusalem artichokes which have survived the harsh Winter will taste all the better for it. We spent a good hour excavating the Jerusalem artichokes and hope not only to roast them but experiment with cream of Jerusalem artichoke soup, Jerusalem artichoke mouse, and any other recipe we can get our hands on.

The kitchen has been busy in the last few weeks turning out a celebration of citrus; making lime marmalade, lemon poppy seed cake and a second batch of orange marmalade. The arrival of Spring, and relatively mild conditions experienced in February, has awakened the stinging nettle in the local forests and we have already gathered two batches of nettles and commenced our second brew of nettle top beer. In the next few weeks we should be able to sample this years production, and in the meantime we may experiment with nettle pesto and nettle soup!

The Good Life - The colour orange; blood orange marmalade

Not so bloody oranges!

Visiting friends recently, they inquired whether or not I had made marmalade this year. I had not and immediately realised the short season Seville oranges are available had passed me by. While working in Spain during the cooler months of January and February, I distinctly remember the Seville orange trees lining pathways and planted in parks. The oranges they produce are practically inedible because of the bitterness and the fact they are full of pips. The trees themselves it appears have three uses; decoration, shade and marmalade.  My only chance was to find some dodgy specimens from a late crop or shipment. However, this did not happen and I did not want to give up the idea entirely. In my quest for some citrus heaven, I came across some blood oranges. Normally, I like to see them cut giving some indication of the colour of the flesh, and quality of the orange. Even better if they can be tasted! In the end it was pot luck and I took a risk on some very fine sweet scented blood oranges.

In the past my marmalade production has been a little hit and miss, and in some cases very disappointing. The oranges may have been a problem but generating enough pectin to set the marmalade was also a factor. There are many other factors including a lack of patience on my part, and seeking to rush the process along with no jam thermometer on hand. There is a temptation always to try and finish the production in one night. However, in consequence of my New Year regime of physical activity, requiring a swim every evening, I knew I could not achieve this. There is very little time left after making the evening meal and carrying out ongoing essential repairs to relationships.

Basically, marmalade should be what you want it to be, and not made to mimic some sugared jelly with non-descript peel in a jar. This of course means that you are going to be quite selfish making it in a manner that pleases you alone. How many times have you sat around a table where everybody has liked the same jar of marmalade? Invariably some people spoon out a scoop of jelly without a spec of peel while others prefer to load their toast with peel. Then there are those that discard peel, sending it to the edge of the plate because it is just too thick. In recent years some marmalades have been flavoured with whiskey or spices. I am not a huge fan of the whisky marmalade but the addition of spices does intrigue me.

After much consideration and reflection upon my old reliable sources, such as the writings of Marguerite Patten, and the Avoca Cafe Cookbook 1, not to mention a number of good articles published in the recent past, I decided that it was preferable to make the marmalade over a number of days. Formulating and favouring a three point plan, in contrast to most Irish political parties who seem to be relying on various permutations of five point plans to solve other problems, appeared to be the most rational way of producing the marmalade. A recent purchase of a mincing machine, (the last one available and purchased after a battle involving  more than a fair share of quick mindedness, duplicity and deception preying on my opponent, a sharp and very particular 70 year old woman), was also going to play a part in this process as I could not sacrifice an hour and a half of my evening slicing orange peel.

Stage 1: Carefully wash 8 blood oranges and thereafter cut them in half and juice them, placing the juice and any flesh in the fridge until required later. Put all the halved oranges into a preserving pan, and cover with about 2.5 litres of water. Cook over a low flame for about 45 minutes and leave the pot and its contents stand overnight. The kitchen will be filled with warm sweet gentle citrus aromas setting the scene for any essential maintenance to a relationship; chemical warfare - get the upper hand.

Stage 2: Relationship should be back on track for this stage as it could be messy. Remove the softened orange halves from the liquid in the pot. The liquid should be kept and measured. Chop the orange peel into chunks and then put them through the mincing machine. This should not take long and it may look as if there is a lot of pith, but persevere because this will assist in the setting process as it is a good source of pectin.  Put the minced orange peel, the orange juice and the reserved cooking liquid into a preserving pan. I ended up with just over a litre and half of cooking liquid, and added to this some water to make up two litres. Cook the contents of the pot over a low heat for about two hours and let the pot stand overnight.

Stage 3: The end is in sight. Sterilise about 8 jars and lids by placing them in the dishwasher, and thereafter in the oven at 100C. Reheat the contents of the pot. Once warmed through, stir in 1.5 kilos of sugar and allow it to dissolve. If the colour of the marmalade mixture looks too light, add half white and half brown sugar to deepen the colour. At this point I became nervous about the setting ability of my marmalade and added 4 tablespoons of lemon juice to provide some extra insurance. Once the sugar has dissolved, boil the marmalade steadily for about 25 minutes. At this point some science should be applied, and if you have a jam thermometer the marmalade should set once it reaches 105 C. There are a number of theories on this but I choose to use the cold saucer method to test for setting point. Begin testing after about 20 minutes, and if the marmalade stiffens and wrinkles on the saucer, or resists your finger as it is passed through the drop of marmalade, then it has reached setting point. 

Once setting point is reached, take the marmalade off the heat and let it stand for 15 minutes before spooning it into the sterile jars, and sealing down. This allows the peel to be well distributed throughout the marmalade, and prevents an unfortunate situation where the peel may settle on the bottom of the jars. If you chose to flavour a marmalade with spices or whiskey, these should be added while the marmalade is thickening and cooling in the preserving pan. For half of my production, I added a teaspoon of épices de pain d'épices; a mixture of ground cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg, pepper and clove. The impact of this combination was immediate as it not only darkened the colour of the marmalade, but intensified and complimented the rich sweet citrus aromas coming from the pot. Looking forward to breakfast now!

 The end result a thick set marmalde full of flavour