by I once interviewed Irish chef Richard Corrigan, and when I spoke to him about his childhood food, he would preface almost every memory with, “I know it sounds romantic, but…” That’s the problem I have too have when I write about Irish food – not least on St Patrick’s Day. It’s hard not to sound like I grew up between a cool, quiet dairy and a warm kitchen (my grandparents were dairy farmers) with buckets of creamy fresh milk.
Not everything was idyllic. Corrigan remembers the bacon they ate with large plates of cabbage being too salty, but he can still tell you, bright-eyed, how he got rabbits and fried them with good butter and wild garlic.
I grew up in Northern Ireland and we were very conscious about food, although not as extreme as people can be today; it was just a part of life. My memories are of eating wheat bread with raspberry jam that was so soft it ran down the edges, of peeling Dublin Bay prawns – their flesh so sweet there was a hint of vanilla – that I bought at the local fish market and how I made mayonnaise to eat with a wild salmon someone had delivered to my father wrapped in newspaper.
The greengrocer told you what kind of potato was in it. Family friends made canned food. My mother held tins full of homemade cakes and sheet cakes. Not everyone was a good cook – my paternal grandmother turned Sunday beef into leather – but on the whole the home cooking was very good. People actually cooked, and they cooked food that was local and seasonal. I put that down to not having big supermarket chains (my hometown didn’t have a Tesco until 1997). The only food available was local and seasonal.
We weren’t particularly proud of our food because the Irish tend to think less of themselves and their products than they should. Much like back then in the Scandinavian countries, we didn’t have a restaurant culture. Restaurants were more like “barbecue rooms” selling good steaks and average shrimp cocktails. Outliers in Dublin or Belfast were French. A vibrant restaurant culture – with chefs who care about the terroir – lets a country show what it has. Think what René Redzepi and his ilk did for Scandinavian food. Not everyone cooks with moss, but it has made the whole region proud.
In Ireland, a similar pride grew – much more slowly – largely because of the late Myrtle Allen at Ballymaloe House in County Cork. She was a home cook who converted part of her home into a restaurant in 1964. She was surrounded by farms and large fish were landed at nearby Ballycotton. Instead of serving French food, she only cooked the best local produce and did as little with it as possible. There were French items on the menu – there was hollandaise with asparagus, for example – but they were minimal.
When I first ate at Ballymaloe I had an extremely emotional reaction. Big mealy potatoes that collapsed like snow under a fork, carrots that were cooked whole and tasted like they had just been pulled out of the ground (they usually had – there were rubber boots by the back door for the cooks to pick out more veggies could get from the garden during the service), these tasted intensely like what I knew. Myrtle had the same philosophy as Alice Waters — simple and seasonal — but she spelled it out over a decade earlier. In the late 1970’s great new Irish cheeses arrived – Milleens, Gubbeen, Durrus – and since then the number of food makers and great chefs has steadily increased.
When I weaned my first child, the health visitor expressed shock that he would not eat potatoes. ‘Introduce!’ she exclaimed. “And you Irish!”
Believe me, even on St. Patrick’s Day, Irish food is about a lot more than just potatoes.
The best Irish dishes to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day
“These little tarts are not a traditional Irish dish at all, but all the elements work beautifully together and showcase Irish smoked salmon.”
“This isn’t French-style potato gratin with thin layers of wax, but more like creamy, floury potatoes with fish. The potatoes will end up slightly soupy – because they’re floury – and that’s the way it’s supposed to be. This dish is loosely based on a recipe in Alan Davidson’s book ‘North Atlantic Seafood’; his version doesn’t have cream in it, so go that route if you want a more everyday dish. I chose luxury.”
“There is some controversy as to whether carrots should be included in this dish. Escoffier says no, but then what would a Frenchman know about an Irish stew! Cold pickled red cabbage is a traditional side dish in Ireland.”
“A really rich bowl of soup. It’s a great way to use up leftover cooked lamb, but cooked chicken or pork works well too.”
“I love the sound of beef and Guinness together, but the reality is the pie needs a bit of sweetness to counteract the bitter taste of the reduced stout. I solved that by adding some port.”
“Soda bread is deliciously quick and easy to make and gives instant gratification. Toasted and spread with salted butter, soda bread is comforting and wholesome, especially when served with a warming soup.”
“The salted caramel whiskey sauce is addicting and could also be poured over ice cream to make an Irish sundae. This pudding can be made up to a day in advance and reheated in the oven before serving.”
“An adult ice cream (my kids found it too bitter but I love it). Actually I should call it ‘Parfait’ because it’s based on Parfait.
“This is a rich chocolate cake with a pinch of Guinness, a simple buttercream filling (also topped with stout), and a sweet-tart chocolate topping with sour cream.”
