"From scratch"

I am tired of cooking from boxes. Not only is it all dyed and preserved, but pre-packaged is just plain boring. So this is my new project: I want to make at least one thing, every day, entirely from scratch. I don't care if it's a three course meal or just eggs and toast, but it isn't allowed to use any premade ingredients.

Day one was Yorkshire puddings. (A recipe from one of my beloved European cookbooks, so plenty of measurement conversion went on beforehand... I know, I need a scale. I'll get to it eventually.) I've always been a little confused about why they are referred to as "puddings" though. They seem more like dumplings to me. But whatever they are, they're delicious even when served with something that doesn't properly go with them. Like tuna salad. It was all I had.

Day two was banana bread, from the best banana bread recipe I've ever made. (It's this one. For me it has the perfect banana to cinnamon ratio.) I love this, and the funny thing is that I hate bananas. 

And then I got ambitious and decided that my little bread needed something fancy. Something like caramel lace. 

Fancy has a price though. Cleaning that pot was not fun.

Some were dramatically prettier than others.

Day three was french toast and scrambled eggs, but you shall have to take my word for it. The pictures were all blurry.

I'm going to plan on doing posts like this every week or so, to hold me accountable. Hopefully there will be improvement.

Slán go fóill, 
Giselle

Not a green-dyed beverage in sight

But there is this brown soda bread which, in my opinion, is so. much. better. The recipe is the one that the wonderful Imen shared at Farmette, where she referred to it as "the president of brown bread". And she was so right. It was definitely worth the extra time spend translating all of the measurements (honestly, does everyone in Europe own a kitchen scale?), and was so delicious that I made another loaf for the neighbours across the road.

Also, I made lamb stew for dinner. Not exactly posh, I know, but I love it. An old friend of ours taught my mom and I how to make it. Her name was Mary, she was from Ireland, and as a child I loved listening to her talk. She used to make this stew every year for the Internatinal Festival the church we went to at the time had. I'll bet you can't guess which booth she ran.

It's a delightfully simple recipe. Take some lamb, potatoes, carrots, and onions, chopped up and put in layers in a pot with salt and pepper sprinkled over it, and add enough water to cover it. Bring to a boil, then take the temperature down and simmer "'til it's done". It's somewhere between one and two hours. The bonus is that it's even better on the second day, so I made enough to have plenty of leftovers.

You couldn't see it in the first picture, but this one is proof of my impatience. Apparently I can't wait the twenty seconds it takes to snap a photograph before starting to eat. (That's also why only half of the bowl is visible in the stew photo; the other half is mostly empty.)

Slan abhaile, and a belated "Happy St Patrick's Day" to all of you.

Soda bread

The latest culinary export, as you have probably guessed, was soda bread. I have yet to achieve perfection, but this one was good. I think (and hope) that I may be getting close.
There is something therapeutic about making your own bread. It seems to establish a connection with the past.
As I was mixing the dough I started to think about my great-grandmother, the only grandmother I can remember. She died when I was thirteen, but she would have been ninety-nine next week. I still regret that I was never old enough to really talk to her, or ask questions. It's difficult at times to accept that there are so many things I'll never know.
But I digress. On to the recipe.

Soda Bread
(by Maura Laverty, paraphrased a bit by yours truly)

1 lb flour
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon sugar
1 teaspoon bread soda (baking soda)
Buttermilk to mix

Sift the dry ingredients together several times. Form a well in the center and pour in the buttermilk gradually, mixing in flour from the sides. The dough should not be too dry, but too much liquid will make the bread heavy. I used just under 2 cups (16 oz).
Knead lightly for a few minutes. Form into a round cake.* Cross the top, brush with milk, and put into a hot oven on a baking tin for about 45 minutes at 450 degrees F.

*Note: This hasn't been working for me as well as I would like. I am going to try putting it in a bread pan next time.