Tea and Toast

Tea and toast. Those three little words that mean so much to so many. The potential to sooth, comfort, nourish and celebrate.

While I savoured the two slices of toasted white sliced pan yesterday after 17 hours without food or water, I thought about how they have marked memorable moments in my life.

When I was a child recuperating after a bug. My mother making me tea and toast as I gingerly started to eat again. In those days the bread was cut from a milk loaf that had been wrapped in butter paper. The tea from the old tea caddy kept beside the cooker and the tea pot propped on the gas turned low to keep it hot.

When I gave birth to my son 27 years ago in The Cumberland Royal Infirmary (I love the name of that hospital). The toast was of the sliced pan variety, the tea a bag in a small stainless tea pot. Under normal circumstance I would have turned my nose up at it. But after almost 21 hours in labour with the continuous threat of an emergency section over me, I can still remember how good it tasted. I remember looking at my newborn son in the cot beside me, his eyes wide open staring at the world. The memory is so vivid it could have happened yesterday.

In contrast when my daughter was born after a four hour intense labour, I had been given lunch before they stuck me on that dreaded drip. One moment I was relaxing in bed, the next screaming with pain and hammering the buttons on the Tens machine. The tea and toast was more ceremonial before being put in a wheelchair with her in my arms and moved back up to the ward. I remember trying to resist the wheelchair and the midwife by now probably well used to feisty young mothers, say wearily to me "try to walk so." When my legs gave way beneath me I just meekly hopped in.

So yesterday. It marked the end of an era. An era of fertility. Fertility that for the most part I battled to control. When you have something you take it for granted. When it's taken away you feel a loss. I ate my toast and sipped my tea as all these thoughts went through my mind. Relief that the cramping and inconvenience will now hopefully end. Sadness that I will not experience again those wonderful exhilarating moments that giving birth brings.

The toast was white sliced pan, the tea a bag in a small stainless pot. Full circle. The circle of life.


Does tea and toast bring back memories for everyone or am I just strange?

Drisheen Fusion

Drisheen is a blood pudding made in Ireland, particularly in Cork. I'm just back from a weekend in Cork and by now the annual pilgrimage to The English Market.

I passed a stall just inside the door of the market selling drisheen and tripe. Now, I have not very pleasant memories of my grandmother cooking tripe in a big pot of milk with onions and tomatoes. The smell. Oh God, the smell. But the drisheen looked interesting. I had a chat with the lady and decided to give it a go. She made me promise to come back and tell her what I thought. Like I need an excuse to go back to Cork!

So today I followed her instructions and cut a small piece and fried it in butter. I tasted it and was surprised at how bland it was. Is it any wonder the Irish had such tame palates? Spicy food would have been a major shock back in the day if this is what they were used to. However, it reminded me of tofu. Tofu is also bland and it needs marinading and seasoning and cooking with lots of flavours. So I decided to have a go at pimping it up. Isn't that what fusion cuisine is all about?

I marinated the small piece in loads of olive oil, crushed garlic, a yellow chilli and lots of salt and pepper for a couple of hours.

Drisheen is like black pudding in that it is cooked. So you just need to colour it and warm it up.

A small piece of drisheen (enough for two)
2 cloves of garlic
1 yellow chilli
Sprig rosemary leaves
A good glug of olive oil

Marinade for a couple of hours. Then heat a pan and fry the drisheen in it's marinade until it starts to colour. Keep moving the garlic around the pan so it doesn't burn.

Add to the above:
A small piece of chorizo sliced
3 scallions
Some chesnut mushrooms

Toss all the ingredients around the pan until the mushrooms are softened and the chorizo has given up it's oils.

Meanwhile cook some spaghetti in a pot of salty water. Drain and toss the drisheen mix into it. Top with some rocket leaves and Parmesan or Pecorino shavings.

Drisheen fusion, surprisingly tasty.

Forty Shades of Green

St. Patrick's Day our national holiday. What better way to spend it than capture all the shades of green right on my door step?

Deer Park Virginia, Co. Cavan, the former hunting lodge and grounds of Lord Headfort is now The Park Hotel (Richard Corrigan's new venture), Virginia Golf Club and Virginia Rugby Football Club headquarters. There is also a lovely walk around Lough Ramor through the well-managed forest.

Beech trees and moss

Beech

Evergreen alley

Lough Ramor

Perfect for angling

Little bridges over rushing waters

 Beech sapling

Green tee

I love to walk here. There is ample free parking beside the rugby club. There are several different length walks. The dogs get a great run. And it's incredibly scenic.

Sometimes it's easy to overlook great amenities right under your nose.