Sorry for the gap folks – I’ve been globetrotting as you know. Ireland for twelve days, London for a couple of nights, then a glorious five nights on Hamilton Islands in the Whitsundays on the Queensland coast.
It was a double celebration – my mum’s 80th birthday and my 40th a week later.
Don’t we look good?
More later once I have settled back in: I have many tales of dinners eaten including the wonderful Italian Mum and I had in Don Giovanni’s in Dalkey (above).
>My mum’s recipe is really easy to remember and to increase or decrease according to how many you want. You can make them with just raisins in, or make them without raisins and decorate them with cream or jam and coconut or whatever you want.
Ingredients
Raisins 125g (optional)
Butter 125g
Caster sugar 125g
Self raising flour 125g
2 eggs beaten
1 teasp vanilla extract
2 tbsp milk
Method
Pre-heat oven to 190˚C
Beat butter and sugar till fluffy
Add egg a little at a time, whisking as you go
Add raisins (optional)
Beat in the vanilla
Stir in half the flour
Add milk and the rest of the flour
Fold until well combined
Spoon into cups and bake 10-12 minutes or until golden on top
Cool for 10 minutes on a wire rack
>Orlando’s mum makes the best Bajan sweet bread. When I visited Barbados to meet her for the first time, she baked come fresh every day for my breakfast. Divine. Best eaten slightly warm, either on its own or with a little butter.
Ingredients
Desiccated coconut 200g
Melted butter 60g
Plain flour 475g
Margarine (or baking shortening) ½ tbsp
Baking powder ½ teasp
Salt ½ teasp
Sugar 90g
Raisins 120g
1 small egg
Evaporated milk 150ml
Almond essence ½ teasp
Method
Grease the baking tin with the margarine
Pre-heat the oven to 350˚C
Mix the flour, baking powder, sale, coconut, sugar and raisins in a bowl
Add egg, evaporated milk, butter and almond essence and mix to a firm but wet dough
Fill baking tin
Mix 2 tbsp sugar and 1 tbsp hot water and brush on top
Bake in centre of oven for about 1 hour or until a skewer inserted into the centre comes out clean
Cool in the baking dish
>My mother makes the best scones on earth. When I was in university I lived at home, and I used to leave early on Thursdays to get home in time for the scones to be taken out of the oven. They are best eaten slightly warm with as much butter as your heart can handle. Not butter substitute, REAL butter.
Ingredients
2 oz butter
1lb self-raising flour
4 oz caster sugar
4 oz sultanas
½ pint fresh milk
Beaten egg to glaze
Method
Rub four, sugar and butter together
Rub in sultanas
Bind with milk
Knead and roll to 3/4 inch thick
Cut into scones with a glass and glaze with the beaten egg
Bake 20-25 minutes at 200˚C
Cool on a wire rack
>Mummum’s tea brack is one of my mother’s specialities. She is a plain cook but a wonderful baker. This traditional Irish cake is not too sweet and – unsurprisingly – uses tea to moisten it. It would often be served sliced like bread and buttered.
1 lb of sultanas or raisins
1 cup of cold tea
1 egg
3/4 lb flour
1. Steep fruit in tea for at least one hour (preferably overnight).
2. Add egg and swirl around.
3. Sieve in flour and mix well.
4. Pour into 9 inch square tin.
5. Put in oven in middle shelf at Gas Mark 4 for 45 minutes.
6. Cover with tin foil and cook for a further 45 minutes and Gas Mark 3.
7. Test with a knife to make sure centre is cooked.
My mother was raised in a fairly poor family in a small town in County Dublin, but there was always enough to eat. Vegetables grew in the back garden, there was lots of floury potatoes, fish on Fridays and maybe some Hafner’s sausages as a treat on Saturdays.
In our family food and love are interchangeable. As a result most of what we eat, and who serves it, is laden with symbolism.
The rituals of Christmas included the formal post-mortem of the turkey/ham/Christmas cake/Christmas pudding of other family members: my mother and our Auntie Molly being the two main culprits:
“Maggie, your ham is much nicer than mine. Mine is very salty.”
“No, Molly, mine is very dry. Yours is better. And your cake is beautiful.”
“Yes but the pudding didn’t come out very well.”
“Ah, Molly, your pudding is gorgeous. Give us another bit.”
Christmas dinners were rushed to make sure we had enough time to sit down again at six o’clock for tea. It wasn’t much different the rest of the year, and even when the food being served was more modest than Christmas dinner, there was always the exhortion to “fill up on bread”. For the families of post-war children, it was always important to “eat loads”.
My mother has served the same dishes for dinner since she got married. Now, 52 years later, I can tell you which she will have for dinner this week:
Monday
left-over roast meat from Sunday with a salad
Tuesday
Egg and chips (she used to serve us mince, beans and chips but we didn’t notice for years that she didn’t eat the meat herself)
Wednesday
Beef stew, except for Lent and summertime when fried fish, mashed potatoes and white sauce is served
Thursday
Pork chops, gravy, boiled potatoes and turnip
Friday
Fish and chips and peas
Saturday
A mixed grill
Sunday
Traditional roast dinner – chicken, beef, pork or lamb
or
Corned beef or boiled bacon, cabbage and boiled potatoes
Over the years, and miles from home now, food still conjures up many emotions and associations.
My mother lists reading restaurant menus as one of her more serious hobbies, and it is always a big highlight to have as many family members around the table for dinner – difficult when we are spread across two continents.
This blog is an attempt to pull together all the recipes from my lifetime, food served to me with love by family, friends and strangers.
Many have a story attached and some speak for themselves.
fill up on bread 