I Love Lemons

Ballyprior Castle, Co. Carlow

I'm on a whistle-stop tour of most of the midlands / southeast for work - lots of driving to and fro (my colleague) and frantic navigating (me), interspersed with visits to some of the most spectacular archaeological sites that Ireland has to offer. After a clear day on Monday, the weather yesterday was fairly grim - grey skies with clouds that seem to merge with the bands of wind-blown rain, creating a blanket of mist that hides the hills and sits low over the fields - but even that couldn't detract from the amazing sight of Ballymoon Castle in Co. Carlow. More used to the singular column of a tower house or the compact fortified house, many of which are dotted about the countryside, this was a surprise. It was a proper castle (albeit ruined) - not enclosed in a town, as so many of our large stone castles are, but standing proud on a rise in a pasture field at the side of the road. As we walked across the field towards it, birds were circling the walls and with the dark clouds and misty rain, there was a sense of stepping back in time (I want to tell you the birds were crows or ravens, as that would add even more atmosphere, but truth be told, I'm rubbish at bird-spotting). 

I had great hopes for this jaunt through Irish archaeology, having been told of fabulously good scones and coffee down by the river at St Mullins monastic site (also Co. Carlow). To be honest, I got a bit carried away in my mind, imagining that this could also be The Great Scone Tour of Ireland. There was one lovely scone on Monday in Kilcullen and after a rather hurried and busy day yesterday, we finally reached St Mullins at about 3pm (no lunch) and were running on empty, ready for the promised scone. Oh dear. It seems the nice man down by the river doesn't open his little cafe until February 1st (yes, that means we missed out by barely a week!). The site was stunning (with a very impressive motte-and-bailey beside it), but sadly my memory of St Mullins will always be coloured by the absence of a scone. 

Castlelyons Abbey

In contrast today - a beautiful, clear-sky winter's day - there was a promising start, with a fruit scone in the hotel for breakfast but this proved to be a disappointment. There was a decent plain scone offering later in the day in a bakery in Cappoquin (not bad at all) and apart from the odd shower, the weather held and we had blue skies as we drove southwest towards Cork. We ended the day with a look at the pretty little abbey ruins at Castlelyons, just as the sun was beginning its descent. It was as good a way to end a long day's work as I can imagine.

Lemon Madeira Cake, Take 1

So what does the rest of the week hold? I'm not too hopeful on the scone-front. Finding the right cafe at the right time is proving tricky, especially as we criss-cross the countryside all day, only occasionally dipping into a town. Thankfully I have an emergency stash of lemon madeira cake in the glove compartment. Baked on Sunday as the first in a trial of madeira recipes (I'm looking for the perfect lemon madeira recipe for a wedding), it was still delicious today. Although I was so tired that I inadvertently set the oven too high, this recipe was a winner. A mix of flour and ground almonds, it stays moist and more-ish for days (we'll be giving it a proper road-test and will still be nibbling on it come Friday). So perhaps I should forget scones altogether and save myself from further disappointment. From here on out it's all about the lovely madeira and its lemony goodness. 

January blues resolved

The last of the Christmas Cake...

I gave up giving up years ago. To my mind, facing the remainder of the cold, dark winter with nary a piece of chocolate or cake to brighten up a dull day is a depressing thought indeed. Life can be hard enough sometimes, so no need to make things even more difficult I say. A spot of self-flagellation or a hair-shirt anyone? Nope, me neither, thank you very much. Generally speaking then, I usually resolve to add rather than subtract - to do something nice for myself instead of enduring months of self-inflicted deprivation. Because when I'm feeling happy, I tend to take better care of myself. That's not to say I don't recognise the need for a return to a more sensible approach to life after the excesses of Christmas. Continuing down the road of over-indulgence would soon turn me into a grumpy, over-fed couch-potato (or a porkling, as they would have called me in medieval England - guess who got a new word book for Christmas?). 

Christmas Tart Amandine

I take a two-pronged approach post-Christmas: If variety is the spice of life - the sparkly, outgoing soul of the party - then moderation is the more sensible sister, keeping everything and everyone on an even keel. One of the reasons I love the first mince-pie of the festive season and hanker after a sausage roll or two to go with a glass of hot port, is that I don't have mince-pies or sausage rolls at any other time of the year. Ditto Christmas cake, turkey, cranberry sauce, gingerbread stuffing... the list goes on. All of this is deliciously moreish at the start of the season, but there is no doubt that come January first, I'm always ready for something new. 

Before moving on to the 'something new', a quick word to say that if you have any mincemeat left over in your fridge, Mary Berry has a wonderful recipe for a Christmas Tart Amandine - essentially a twist on the Bakewell tart, using mincemeat instead of jam. It is incredibly good. Mam baked this twice in the run up to Christmas and it was demolished each time. The recipe is printed below if you need a little January Blues Treat and would like to try it. But I digress - back to the 'something new' (or in this case, something different). 

And so to inject some variety into the traditional festive feasting, I started the year with an Italian feast for four on New Year's Day, with freshly baked bread-sticks, olives and other yummy nibbles, all washed down by the last of the Christmas cocktail devised by Sister No.1 (a rather tasty but dangerous combination of home-made cranberry gin mixed with prosecco). In spite of the slight cocktail-induced wobble in my step, I managed to keep my hostess hat on straight and succeeded in cooking a lovely risotto with roasted butternut squash and crispy bacon, served up with a fresh green salad. Thankfully, I had dessert prepped and ready to go from the day before - I say thankfully, as we had wine with the risotto, which left me incapable of doing anything more than dishing up scoops of the vanilla gelato (sticking with the Italian theme here) and letting everyone help themselves to the warm chocolate fudge sauce and toasted coconut shards, hazelnuts and chocolate brownie pieces (DIY ice-cream sundaes all round). Suitably stuffed, we drank espresso and amused ourselves with tiny saucer crackers that Sister No.2 had given me for Christmas (quite the cutest thing I've ever seen). It was a brilliant start to the new year - fabulous food, fabulous company, laughter and bubbles. What more could a girl ask for?

Having kicked off 2014 with a feast of equal proportion to the Christmas fare but vastly different in taste, I think now is the time for some of that sensible moderation. I've ordered a couple of new baking books and eagerly await their arrival. My plan for the next few weeks is to get back to the yoga mat for some much needed stretching, plenty of beach-walking and fresh air, time spent contemplating the baking year ahead and perhaps a chocolate or two (that tin of Roses is like the magic porridge pot - I swear they're multiplying every time I put the lid back on). I'm going to dive into my cake books as soon as they arrive and find something new and delicious to bake. With a little bit of delayed gratification, I think I'm going to really enjoy my next piece of cake.