July is Green

July is green, officially. And every shade of it - all more than forty of them. The perfect lucent green pearls of peas, the pine forest green of phallic courgette, and all the others - emergent pear green, leek green, fig green, spinach green, cucumber green, tomato green and so and so forth. And then of course the leaf greens: mint, oregano, thyme, chive, blackcurrant...July is indeed awash with green! Add a splash of blackcurrant, an emergent golden sunflower, cornflower and starflower blues, purple beetroot tops and lavender meets oregano flowers. Poppy red and pale pink rose draws the eye in the midst of all these representatives of rainbow. 

Green collection - with splash of strawberry

And we are all the better for it. All that green has now been proven to be beneficial to the viewer. 'Restorative environments' - places with a green space basically - is the phrase that some give it. And aren't we lucky to have it? And not just to look at. Summer's bounty so far has been rewarding - although in truth, I really wouldn't like to be reliant on our garden for complete sustenance. Our limited space - or is it limited experience and know how? - means that we would be pretty hungry if we were hanging on for the modest spud harvest or the odd bit of fruit and veg that we can sustain on our maxed out back garden. The peas are delicious but take a lot of space for the return, the courgettes are ridiculously plenty for a time and the spuds disappear quickly. Tomatoes and cucumbers require sun and heat - and the small greenhouse only fits a few. And five pears? Better than none! Maybe some smart choices in relation to timing and/or a polytunnel and things would be better. 

Or maybe leave it to the experts? Ah, but where would the fun be in that? The picking of peas with the little princess, her wonder as the spuds are unearthed, the joy of a late strawberry after sun has completed its ripening and it is picked at the moment of perfection. And no air miles on those artichokes! Simple pleasures. Sure, we reap what we sow - and one could barely imagine such a rainbow of colour in the deepest dark days of winter. And while the pain in my back makes me wonder sometimes why we bother to do it at all, the bountiful shades of green that restore us each day coupled with the perennial hum of our busiest bees, probably equal in the pleasure. And sure, we're only halfway there - plenty of tastebuds to be tested yet. 

Life with two small humans is busy but I did manage to capture essence of rhubarb today in a form that will surely last beyond and long after Christmas 2016 (dare I mention it!). Rhubarb chutney - a simple but powerful blend of fresh rhubarb, apple cider vinegar, brown sugar, ginger, oranges and mixed spice. And barely a dent in the wall/glut of summer rhubarb. Jam will make another small hole in the supply, but barely. Apparently it can make
a great wine but I'm not quite ready for that adventure yet. Plenty of time for that. 

Simple pleasures for sure, and plenty of green to frame it. 

Beelicious!

Life is a tad busy here at the Holly Cottage. Have I adjusted to being at home 24/7? Yes. Am I glad to be a full time domestic goddess? Sure. Is everyone happy and healthy? Gloriously and thankfully. Am I on holidays, as so many casually refer to maternity leave being? Absolutely not - far from it. Hats off to stay at home parents! Forget the midnight and early morning feeding sessions for the new arrival, herself is also up at the crack of dawn and she definitely qualifies as the duracell kind. Wow. Where does all that energy and enthusiasm come from? Poor mumzy sadly laggs behind - must be those midnight feeds. It's certainly nothing to do with midnight parties.

And so, all are busy. The 8 week old being his cutesy self, the near 3 year old being her adorable threenager self, Holly being...well, Holly. And the rest of the residents? Just being, watching on in a surreal blur of parenthood.

Bee heaven, HC 2016

Busy as bees. And they - the bees - certainly are busy. And not a cry of complaint sounded. Thankfully we seem to have a very vibrant and healthy population in our garden - my next job is to set to identifying each of the different species present. And figure out how many of the 97 species - yes!! 97 different species in Ireland - are frequenting the Holly Cottage garden. Luckily there are some online resources available to do this - thanks to the great work of the National Biodiversity Data Centre based in County Waterford. Bees are important for our lives, not least for the delicious honey they create and which we seem to consume a lot of here in the Holly Cottage. Beware of what type you lift off the shelf in the supermarket though because not all honeys are created equal. Blending and processing can remove most if not all of the goodness (proteins, natural superpowers etc.) - so best to buy local and possibly even direct from your friendly suited beeman or beewoman. 

Red-arsed bumble bee....awww.
Listed as vulnerable to
 extinction in Ireland...double awww.

So how important are they and what are we doing about the widely reported global decline? Well, some clever economist/scientist types have estimated that the work of the bees is worth millions...more would say priceless. Our cute little black/amber/ginger/blonde winged friends are of enormous significance in terms of pollination and provide an altogether free service to us to pollinate food crops for our human family. What would happen if we lost them? Global famine? Global collapse of economies? Let's hope that doesn't happen, but it might. And the pollination of cherry blossoms by hand, as has to happen in regions of China, may have to be carried out by us clumsy and ground-bound humans in a ridiculously more widespread fashion. 

Thankfully we have a National Pollinator Plan in Ireland (of which I was humbled to be even a small part of its creation) which we hopefully will see the fruits of (pardon the pollination pun) in years to come. On a local scale, and I guess you can't get more local than your own garden, pesticide free and a generous planting of wildflowers will do the job. Nothing too fancy, as bees are less fussy than us in what they might consider worthy - dandelions provide the forage food for the hungry gap in May and clover species are also a significant food source. Basically, less weeding!

A Humble Bee made this :)

On a more sensory front, we have also discovered a very sweet and beelicous way of supporting the local bee economy. And it comes in a very attractive and tempting way - honey cake! The talented work of the Humble Bee company has given life to what may be one of the most interestingly irresistible cakes to be tasted outside of our own kitchen for some time. Made in County Offaly, this is one to watch out for. Simply beelicious to paraphrase a well known Corkonian domestic queen! Watch out for it. And in the meantime, spare a thought for the busy bee. We need them a hell of a lot more than they need us.  

The cookie crumbled

It's a baking kind of a day. Wet and misty on the outside, warm and cosy inside. Walk is done - splashing through the ankle deep mud and wet sand and grit as we battled with the rush of football folk to get to the woods beyond the soccer pitch. Medals should go to all those children - all seemingly oblivious to the rain - running aound after a leather ball to a single line crowd of martyresque parents. It's the dads mostly - on the sideline that is. I can only imagine they've been hunted by the females as they grapple with preparing for the onset of mud shirts and clay gathering studded buds that will arrive at kitchen doors later in the afternoon. 

We're saved that yet though - the football that is, and the all sorts of organised sporting activities that dedicated parents must taxi children to and from. With Holly it's just chaotic football and stick throwing so that's adaptable, and with Alannah we have yet to move beyond the point of just enjoying the looking on from safety of warm sling to the getting on on the act itself. But I can see her in there with the worst and the best of them, caked in mud after football on Saturday afternoons under the watchful eye of the Oaks of Charleville. 

Standing dead, but still standing ;) 

And so, what does one do on a baking day? Well eat of course ;)  After a month of testing and tasting the delightful seasonal cakes of others all across the midlands of Ireland, we are back to harvesting the fruits of own our labour in the Holly Cottage kitchen. The man has mastered the bread-making so I decided to put a twist on the usual banana flavoured sweet stock that we tend to store in the cupboard. Today is cookie day. Note to readers - I seem to have difficulty with the americanisation of buns and biscuits, aka cupcakes (or even muffins) and cookies. When did a bun become a cupcake? And has no-one spotted the connection between over-sized buns (muffins) and muffin-tops? Sorry - self confessed traditionalist when it comes to the baking ;) But anyway, these 'bakes' below qualify as cookies and biscuits depending on what result Google throws back at you...

Cold and misty on the outside,
warm and crunchy on the inside ;) 

And so, today's sweet treat is banana flavoured oatcake cookies. By the way - don't fool yourself that just because there's oats in it, that it's (a) healthy and (b) that it's not devilishly sweet and tasty and full of plenty of good carbs and fats and vitamins and the like! Herewith the ingredients....

Oat-Banana Crunch Cookies: cream 2tbsps butter with half a cup of brown sugar, add in 1 egg (beaten), 1/2 teasp vanilla extract and 1 very ripe (and very mashed) banana - and blend. Now, stir in 2 cups of oats, 1 cup wholemeal flower, 1 teasp baking powder, 1 teas bread soda, 1/2 teasp salt and 1/2 teasp cinnamon. I also added in four chopped walnuts for the extra healthy super food fats ;) All is stirred up together - add a drop of milk if too dry - and then spoon contents onto greased baking tray and cook at 175 deg for 15mins. Cooking time depends on whether you used teaspoons or tablespoons to shape your cookies, so adapt. When we tasted them with strong hot coffee they were just right but I do feel that the recipe has room to evolve. The man suggested using golden syrup - I'm not sure but no harm in trying. The cookie was delicious with a dollop of natural yogurt, and I''m sure would go just right with vanilla or banana ice-cream for a more calorific treat. Or maybe even a biscuit....

Pyjama Days (and a bit of food for thought)

These are days of rain and winds around the Holly Cottage. The tall beech trees that line the walls of Charleville are getting a beating up there in the sky kingdom of the tree crowns and the leaves are tumbling effortlessly down - spiralling down, down, down. Right now - to the south - the sky is smoky grey and there is a hint of a rainbow fading in. To the east the sky is bright and clear, the sun casting a golden hue on the rain and wind beaten trees to the south and west. 

We are cosied up inside, everyone still in pyjamas - for these are the pyjama days ;) Yesterday the rain kept us in until way past four so it was a popcorn-on-the-couch-with-movies day. Pyjamas were swapped in the late afternoon for a walk in the leaf strewn woods, only to be hit by a torrential shower that made it through the now, very patchy canopy to the three musketeers below - Holly sniffing out the trail and the acorns, Alannah sleeping in her chest pressed harness and me just getting soaked. All three happy out in the wind and rain and mud - lovely.   The emergency back up was called on though and we were rescued and brought back to the warmth of the Holly Cottage for tea and cakes. The cakes were left behind by a friend not seen in an age, and we had spent a good couple of hours catching up that morning while watching the wind battle with the trees and the rains fire on the roofs of houses beyond the Holly Cottage garden wall.

Big bear...

Today will probably be the same. We've been up a few times already of course. Alannah likes to feed through the night so I seem to be living in a sleep walking state - mental note: must try to get more sleep during the day, but then it always seems such a shame to miss the daylight hours, however rain soaked they are. We managed a few trips out the last week - shopping and browsing, going for lunch and outdoor coffees where possible. It's amazing how you start to see babies everywhere though - everywhere we go they seem to be 'taking over'. Apparently it's a symptom of having your own. It's hilarious as I step back and view the scene as I find myself comparing them all to Alannah or checking out the brand make of buggy or car seat. Such things were completely un-noticed in the past. Funny how things change. 

Not so big bear....?

As for herself - she's still growing, still feeding, still smiling. There are gurgles now and more little laughs - absolutely adorable. And most of the gurgling happens around the 3am/4am mark when really you are questioning your ability to function as you wrestle with (at other times) straight forward nappy changing. She's definitely more alert too - Alannah that is. I on the other hand seem to be slipping gradually into a permanent state of sleep deprived zombieness. Somebody somewhere called it a 'mombie' state and it's a good fit. We'll just take it as it comes. Holly's unfaltering loyalty, despite losing her place in the pack, has been a great relief and un-necessary cause for concern pre-arrival. And more importantly, the unconditional minding by Number 1 Dad is keeping us all safe and sane, fed and loved, laughing and miraculously good humoured, in the here in the now.

It hasn't been all just sleeping though. There's still harvesting in the garden - up on 10kg of red juicy tomatoes in the freezer now, bags of bright red chillis and crisp tasty apples in a bowl on the table for immediate consumption. Sweet peppers are nearly gone, they did best in the greenhouse while outdoor plants  are way behind and doubtful if the remaining hanging peppers will ripen - we shall see. Yesterday was also the day for slow cooking-down of the last of the green tomatoes into a delicious sweet chutney (http://hcottage.blogspot.ie/2012/10/shades-of-caribbean-roti-licious.html) while the man came close to a near-perfect hot pepper sauce. It's all about trial and error really, and every time you cook something it's different tasting. Maybe it's the mood you're in or maybe it's that extra shake of salt or pepper, or one too many scotch bonnets ;) It's all good whatever the outcome.

On another level, we've been watching a lot of youtube these days. In particular the work by the Zeitgeist Movement which is under the stewardship of social activist and musician Peter Joseph. Interesting yet slightly depressing stuff. Check it out for another perspective on global economics. I'm still digesting some of the material, but it it is certainly food for thought, particularly the stuff about the 'economic hitmen'. I always feel so naive and hoodwinked when I see or read about these things - and you question whether we are all puppets in a very corrupt system. It's a bank holiday so plenty of time to check it out, also check out John Perkins' book and website www.economichitman.com

And so, enjoy your pyjama days in the rain - sometimes it's good to just sit and watch the rain fall down. And as you sip on your tea and enjoy your cake shared with friends, take a different perspective and ask some questions about how you live and how you would like to live, and how you would like your society to be. Nothing heavy, just take it at your own pace. It's amazing what a change in perspective can do - you might even decide to change the world, but start big - start with yourself ;) That is if you feel you need it...

Seeing red (and orange and yellow and purple and green)

Shades of delicious-ness

A sunny afternoon in the Holly Cottage and things are pretty much the same as my last post. I am living in a sort of groundhog day that changes only in terms of its name and the weather. I won't dwell on the detail as there's really not that much time and these days every minute counts. I reckon I have about ten minutes maximum before I will have to feed her and attend to her needs so I must write quick - please read at your own leisure though! 

As I write, Alannah is sitting in her chair and I have one foot on the ground and one foot rocking her so that she is always on the go. Babies are so helpless really - they can barely see what's in front of them and they really can do nothing for themselves. That helplessness will persist for a number of years from now...but then that's why we love them so much and are programmed to protect and nurture them for the rest of our lives. The good news is that she is growing rapidly - she grew twice as much as an average breastfed baby on her first week at home - I know, what is average? - and the ridiculously oversized newborn baby sleep suits that we had wrapped her up in that first week are now becoming snug and tight about her month old body. She's still tiny though, and still blue eyed - I'm waiting for the green to fade in so that she looks more like one of us :) Does anything prepare you for the first real smile though? There was a lot of 'is that wind, is that really a smile' when it really was just wind, but now it's definitely a smile. While I think that to her I am just the 'food trolley' and the most of her smiles are targeted at  her daddy - I do get the odd one and that's enough for me.

When I do manage to get outside - and last week with all that rain, it was a challenge for anyone - the colours of the moment are green and red, and varying shades of orange and yellow and purple. Let me start at the back of the garden and work up. The purple turnips are done - they were pretty massive and got way too big to be edible - they'll add to the compost though and to be honest while 'being pregnant', they really didn't appeal to my overly sensitised palate. The parsnips are still growing - I hope - they are pretty small and were heavily shaded by the next door neighbouring out-sized turnips ;) The beetroots are perfect, happily - still waiting to be relished but well utilised already in the perfect chocolate cake last week. The broccoli, winter cabbage and curly kale are the most rich and darkest shades of green that ever were - in contrast to the blue green of leeks and yellow green of spinach. All of these many shades of leafy green will provide the winter supply of vegetables to the Holly Cottage kitchen - along with the bounty of Setanta and Sarpo axona spuds that are being steadily enjoyed despite the very annoying spots of slug damage (the early Orla variety were delicious and devoured by the two hungry residents way before the arrival of autumn filled the senses - highly recommended). The broccoli and winter cabbages are more long-term investments that were planted back in March and April, while the spinach came in two lots - spring and August planted. The kale plants were the kind gift of another more organised gardener and these are getting more and more luxuriously verdant every day. One thing  though to be aware of - be vigilant and keep gathering caterpillars as part of your daily routine (still). They are voracious and destructive feeders, despite their un-assuming white butterfly parentage!

Apple (pie)s of the sun - heavenly...

Okay - there's the green but where's the red you say? Well apart from the red eyes that seem to be staring back at me from the mirror these days, there are the bright red sweet-peppers, shiny red cayenne peppers (every shape and curly form imaginable), and at least four types of tomatoes. The apples too are red - we have one very special variety called 'Redlove' that we got as a wedding present two years ago. Not much happened with it last autumn but this year the apples are sweet, small and perfectly red inside. It comes highly recommended by this house and is available online from most good garden centres. The other apple we have is an 'unknown' type that was bought in Aldi - we didn't expect much but we were pleasantly surprised - the apples are good sized and tasty, still with that lovely tartness that becomes most Irish grown apples. The pumpkin is pretty special too and I am reluctant to even think about cutting into its perfect marmalade orange form - would that it could sit on the window sill forever! Last but not least - tall sweetcorn plants are a kind of disturbing form in the garden yet - slightly reminiscent of Children of the Corn but way more enjoyable -but so different than the shop bought variety as with all things that are home grown on your own plot.

So how to celebrate all this golden-red-orange harvest? By eating it of course..think apple sauce (apples stewed with nutmeg, cinnamon, cloves and brown sugar and a splash of water) and then put that together in mini-apple pies (shortcrust pastry - 8oz flour with 4 oz margarine rubbed in, add cold water and chill ;) ) ....match these parcels of autumn delight with natural yogurt (yum). The tomato bounty has mostly been sent to the freezer - core the 'stalk bit' out first, wash and put straight into freezer for the darker days of winter (think tomato soup with a sprinkle of smoked paprika). All the peas and beans are tucked away there already with the strawberries and rhubarb, while the sweet and chilli peppers won't make it that far and are sweetening and heating dinner times with great gusto.

Oak canopy of colour

It's all good of course, and all very rewarding for all the days invested since the light started to come back in last February. Time now though to take a bit of a step back and enjoy the fruits of the labour and the change in the seasons - just walking through the oak woods is enough to take your breath away - and let's just see what the next one ushers in.

Summer's End

Rose tinted window of the past

There comes time in the year where there is no denying the obvious - the change in the day length, the change in the morning temperature, the coolness of the evening and the sudden realisation that you may have to stop wearing sandals and flip flops very soon and revert to  the toe suffocating shoes of colder times. Yep, autumn is upon us - but what a summer! We were busy the whole way through it - seems like everyday brings its own jobs that in your head will take only a few minutes but once the gardening gloves come on, time seems to go into a different dimension entirely and next thing you know the sun is setting and you need to start thinking about dinner! 

I wonder sometimes what we would be working on if we weren't grappling with caterpillars, weeds, slugs and overgrowing trees and roses that can become giants in the blink of a fine summer's growth? But it's all worth it - the hard work followed by the watching and learning, and understanding on a deeper level the turning of the seasons and how that is reflected in our own turnings. And for the next six months I get to spend more time than just Saturdays and Sundays reflecting on that and hopefully without too much navel gazing - although I'm sure a newborn won't allow for that - I'll be able to appreciate it even more. 

Any ideas??

So what's happening out there? Take a virtual walk around the Holly Cottage garden - starting at the top - and an entire mesocosm is unfolded. The sunflowers are the first to be taken in - there is a particular one out there now that is covered in fourteen (yes, fourteen) flower heads - wow. Such golden yellow and such golden joy. Then the cover of trailing nasturtiums over the Mediterranean lavenders and the outdoor larder of fragrant herbs - mint, oregano, chives, thyme, marjoram, rosemary, parsley, basil - all frequent visitors to de Holly Cottage pot. And all of that in a space about 2m x 2m. Plants will enjoy any space available, in my experience they're really not all that picky - except the fussy ones, so don't get hung up on those (funny how that lesson translates right across the boards of life!). 

The readiness is all*

Walk a bit further past the bountiful strawberry bed, past the tall sweetcorn that brought a north American feel to the garden this summer, past the peas covered by the Holly dog-proof fence (it doesn't work - she'd put the pink panther to shame with her stealthy prowess), past the bright purple turnips, the inconspicuous parsnips, the tender carrots and the un-assuming beetroot all buried in the ground for now - and down to the corner covered in the dusky pink rose that brought such a sweet fragrance to summer evenings. Here - in the farthest corner of the tiny plot - the last few days have witnessed a transformation. Where once there was no light, there is an illuminated composting area newly built - all clean and shiny as shown here on the day of its making - and ready to take on the stalks of cabbages, spuds, leggy rocket and giant Brussels sprout stems and whatever else gets cast aside in the next few months from the bounty of 2013. 

On the other side of the garden is fruit alley - the scene of raspberry, blackcurrant, apple, pear and cherry tree. This spot was definitely a feasting table for the blackbirds and the Holly dog - we only got a handful of raspberries and blackcurrants, but then we had the strawberries all to ourselves! All the fruit trees and bushes are cut back now and it's Gladioli flower time - long stalks of green that find it difficult to hold their heads with all the lavish pink and red and purple decorating their stems, and that continue to fall under the weight of all that beauty - a bit like the sunflowers!

Flowering frenzy

Moving a bit further around I find myself in the greenhouse - miraculously in one piece after two battering winters - and I am lost in a jungle of chili plants, sweet peppers, tomatoes, and cucumbers. I only have to smell the leaf of the tomato to realise the taste of the vine-ripened red fruits - add a leaf of basil and a touch of balsamic and Michelin star quality arrives in the Holly Cottage kitchen ;) After all, good food is about good ingredients. We'll cut the pumpkin today and see how that is - it's a bit early for scaring the neighbours yet but we will chance roasting the sweet orange flesh for dinner after some long day spent watering and picking and tending. The onions are already resting in the shed for the winter - red and white,  fragrant and sweet - and the Cork apples are tantalising the wasps that lost their home in the big clearance of the side hedge. Not to worry, it's been a great year for bees and wasps - the champions of honey production and of keeping other un-wanted aphid pests in check. 

And so, all this can't go on forever. And the heralds of September tell us that it's time to start packing up and readying for colder, darker days - hopefully with their own ample share of sunshine. This summer we were comforted with heat - maybe this year we will be blessed with sunny autumn days and crisp winter mornings, and just a dash of rain every now and then to keep us thankful. In the meantime we must ensure that the kitchen cupboards are full of sweet relishes, chutneys and jams to make the taste of summer last throughout the year. And we are ready on another front too - ready for maybe the greatest adventure of all - but we will have to keep ye posted on that front, no rush! 

This weekend's chutney foray was of the apple variety - a recipe borrowed from a Dublin chef one winter's night. The cooking of it fills the kitchen with the most fabulous of aromas - sweet Middleton apples diced, Asian cinnamon, mixed spice, crushed juniper berries, Californian raisins, Holly Cottage onions and sticky soft brown sugar sweetness all mixed with several glugs of cider vinegar and simmered down for a couple of hours. Now there's a tangy complement to sweet and creamy Wexford cheddar to brighten any winter lunchtime - and it will ;)

Happy Birthday Holly!

On another note - it's Holly's birthday today - all of three eventful years today. And bold as ever - thief of garden peas, lover of rocket and new potatoes, champion of stick fetching and wood foraging, patron of hugs and ear scratches and all-round trickster that can test your will yet charm you endlessly at the same time. Happy Birthday Holly!

*drawing inspiration from Hamlet Act V, Scene II

Jam, Set and Match

It's a jam thing 

It's all about strawberries these days in the Holly Cottage. We've been watching them since February, minding them, more watching them, feeding and netting them, and so on it goes in the gardening way. And now that it's all happening, we're finding it hard to keep up with the harvest and keep ahead of the host of centipedes, slugs, ants and blackbirds that have suddenly appeared in a feasting army to unleash the magical strawberry elixir. Even Holly has been caught raiding the strawberry beds in previous years - she's being extra good this year though, although maybe we just haven't caught her in the act yet ;) 

What to do with this bounty? Well, the obvious delight is the jam thing - the easiest thing in the world since cutting a slice of homemade brown bread or a delicious fruit scone and making a cup of tea, all the things that go so well with the sweet, sticky magic of strawberry jam. And all while one is partaking in the entertainment that is Wimbledon and tennis - they take their strawberries straight - no mixers - with cream there (hence the Jam, Set and Match spin). Take a kilo of fruit, a kilo of sugar, all in the pot - melt the sugar down on gentle heat, then bring it all up to a boil and simmer until setting point is reached. The setting point can be a make or break moment, but if you really get it wrong - how bad? Strawberry sauce in a jar to pour over vanilla ice cream in the depths of winter - mmmm. If you have a lot of rhubarb to play with, like we do, then make a half and half batch of both fruits - its a really nice combination especially for those nervous of the rhubarb variety. 

dreamy, creamy, cheesy, strawberryyyyy....

The other creation of the day is a strawberry cheesecake, based on a blueberry cheesecake recipe by Rachel Allen. Take your favourite biscuit base - digestive and a melted butter was easiest for us this evening. Top this with freshly picked strawberries and leave to chill while you making the topping. For the top - now this is a half of the recipe since it's just the two of us - 225g cream cheese, 75g castor sugar, 2 eggs, half teasp vanilla essence all whizzed up together until smooth and creamy, mmmm ;) Pour this sweet and cheesy creamy promise over the biscuit and strawberry base and into the oven at 180deg for 40mins.....the result is waiting for us as we speak! It always shocks me really when I see the price of a slice of cake in shops and cafes especially when they taste so good straight from your own oven, and I guess what you're really paying for is service and atmosphere. Take my favourite cafe of the moment in Dublin city - Keoghs on Trinity Street - there's always a buzz of people coming in and grabbing coffee to go or one of their amazing selection of scones (brown raisin and cinnamon, and vanilla and pear deliciousness). And there is always a strange and eclectic mix - from the Samuel Beckett quotes on the wall to the cross section of native Dubs having their morning sugar fix. I like to think my odd splurge there is helping a bit to sustain places like that, however small that might be, but these small shops are the remedy to the one size fits all type of franchise cafes that seem to be squeezing out the last of the  brave, individualistic types. 

Shades of summer 

Having said all that and nodding my head to the buzz and vibrancy of an early morning coffee on the streets of Dublin city, there is such enormous satisfaction in being the master or mistress of your own sweet selection, and savouring each mouthful as you watch the sun gradually descend in the sky on the last day of June. Especially in the knowledge of: i. passing your practical yoga class exam the day before (phew), ii. having all the rooms in the Holly Cottage painted, iii. having all the outside windows and sills cleaned down and painted, iv. all the rubbish and clutter built up over the longest winter cleared, v . the array of colours in the garden - purple seems to feature a lot! vi. the first potatoes of the season dug and officially the best tasting spuds ever (again) and blissfully clear of blight (yay) and vii. it's lovely calm Sunday evening again ;) 

It's the simple pleasures that we bask in here...and oh yes, there is that deliciously creamy, dreamy, homemade strawberry cheesecake waiting to be to cut into as well.......

A Bit of a Pickle

Let the magic begin

The weather has us on a go slow in the Holly Cottage camp. Two weeks ago we were breaking our backs getting the good earth ready for planting, clearing the shed of two year's cumulative rubbish and basically clearing the decks to prepare for the sowing season. There was even talk of let's build a patio the sun was shining so well. We'll park that one until we see it again - the sun that is. Since then, we've had at least two days blanketed in pure white snow; another three being blown out of it by northeasterly gales and at least five days being pounded with hailstones the size of frozen peas. Hailstones big  enough to hurt when they ricochet off the corner of your forehead as you endeavour overdue walkovers of your summer field experiments ;)

Holly Cottage hot stuff ;)

Better we get it now says them in the know. Better now than mid June, when you might be glad to sand the rust of the BBQ grill and have an extended evening in the midsummer sun. Despite the inhospitable weather though we've been keeping it hot indoors ;) 

Last weekend was for making more pickledy stuff. Chillies were gathered from the plants in Cappaduff and further investigations to continue the evolution of the Holly Cottage pepper sauce species (there's been a few trial  runs - all good, all extremely hot) were conducted;  a Lime pickle started in January  was retrieved from the darkness to test and taste; and some vanilla pods were put to the test in a creme anglaise. We seem to have experimented a lot in the last year and a quick look in the crowded fridge tells a few tales indeed. The beetroot relish was polished off last week. That was a sad day. The sweet tomato chilli jam  from the start of October never really had enough time to call this place home - it was better than any sweet chilli sauce and streets ahead of anything I've tasted since. The green tomato chutney is still with us - only because we had so many unripened tomatoes in the autumn - the casualty of that cold and wet summer. A few other trials the last few months involved reduced balsamic vinegar flavoured with orange, more tomato relish - this time approaching the Ballymaloe style, and of course the sweet mint sauce that seems to have gotten tastier since its birth last November. 

Let's jam!

And then there's just the plain old jam. Such a small word, that belies sweet comforting and tastebud sensational sticky goodness that brightens up any corner of dry bread on an otherwise ordinary morning in March. I know I've raved about the strawberry bounty last year, and I will until I die! We have just one pot of strawberry-raspberry-rhubarb jam left and that will have to get us to June. Eek ;) Jam has to be the simplest thing in the whole world to make and yet we seem to rely on those dreadful, ultra processed versions that parade around on supermarket shelves as very poor imitiations of the real thing. They don't even have bits of fruit in most of them so it could actually be just flavoured jelly coloured to deceive us of an impostor! OK, I'm being somewhat over-dramatic. But ever since I made my first batch of blackcurrant jam back in the 90s - and somehow won a medal for it at the local harvest fair - I've been a homemade jam champion. A pound of fruit, a pound of sugar - take it to the magical setting point over bubbling heat and you're done. We tend to mix it up around here - whatever's going at the time. The rhubarb and strawberry mix was the biggest hit though. Do it ;)

Now that's a lime pickle...

And so, a bit of pickling and plenty of lounging indoors is keeping us busy these weekends. Some work to be done today though and a nephew's birthday cake to be shared this evening in Cappaduff. We're missing a Mornington extraordinaire birthday lunch for work today, so that's not good. But I know that they'll be having a feast sensation if Anne O'Hara has anything to do with it! 

I hope wherever you are that you are relishing in the drama of the March winds and looking forward to the sunshine of April to come. Happy birthday celebrations to all in Mornington and Cappaduff - let those birthdays just keep on coming!

Here comes the Sun..

The faint sound of gentle guitar picking in my ears and the soft, liquid caramel voice of Nina Simone singing 'Here comes the sun, little darlin'...ah, bliss. It was there all the time, tucked away in the centre of our tiny solar system. But hidden from us by a barrage of heavy winds and torrents of rain all last week. The winds whipped up last Saturday and - apart from a reprieve on Wednesday afternoon when it seemed safe to unchain oneself from the wind resistant anchors and take a very short, almost daring walk up the road - they pretty much remained the dominant force in the Irish universe up until yesterday afternoon. 

Red - another king of Charleville

And now, here we are, absolutely and 100% surrendering to the awesome presence of the sun. It's the second day of February and January has left the building. Sure it's 99% psychological, but that small difference in the name of the month, those precious extra hours in the evening and today's burst of glorious golden shine - well, it's the most welcome stress and tension dissolver. You can feel the strain of tensed shoulders shivering for the last month just melting away in the warm embrace of the sun. Word of caution though, this morning the weatherman said make the most of it, so we certainly did ;)

The day started with an early trot over to see the famous King Oak - (http://www.treeoftheyear.org/?lang=en vote for it) - over the road on the way up to Charleville Castle. Holly was busy rooting through rotting leaves while I was just enjoying the morning sunrise through the trees, when all in a flash - a flash of russet red to be exact - the fastest Red Squirrel ever, crossed my vision in a blur and scarpered into the safety of the very same King Oak's branches. Great to see, always. It's not so common a sight, and the vulnerable Reds are losing out to the more aggressive Grey Squirrels (a non-native species 'introduced' decades ago as what seemed then a great birthday present idea for some very rich aristocrat, and then escaped into the wilds to reproduce and spread and for various reasons squeeze out Red). 

Red Squirrel - top middle of photo ;)
taking refuge on the King Oak

With my phone I managed to capture the tip of his ears as he watched us for high safety - you'll do well to pick it out in the picture posted here. After that, it was a a late enough chorus to call it dawn, but Blackbirds and Robins were in full voice, and Jays seemed to be popping out of every corner of the wood. The woods in Charleville are pretty special - there's plenty of variety in terms of species, and plenty of hidden corners and secret places to entertain the walker throughout the year. Bluebell time is probably my favourite though. Or that time in mid June when you can walk through the woods as late at 10pm and still see for the shade. Every time we leave the wood, Holly always finds a suitably over-sized schtick to bring home to add to her growing stockpile - today was no exception ;)

more schticks

Basking dog

After that it was time to bask in the sunshine, and we made the best of it. No work today - apart from making the most delicious banana-chocolate chip bread for the returning hard working man of the house. But that wasn't really hard work, and I followed HIS own easy recipe - half a cup of brown sugar, half a cup of butter (I used cooking oil), 1 egg, 1 cup wholemeal flower, 1 cup self raising flour, 1 teaspoon cinnamon, 1 teaspoon all spice, a dash of rum, enough chocolate chips for your own taste (plenty!!!), four large bananas and milk to make the batter just moist enough - all in the oven at 180deg for just about an hour. A beautiful cake that is perfect for sitting outside - yes outside - with a cup  of tea and soaking in the sunshine on this fine Spring day. 

Making Music in the Dark

"Ah yes, guitars a bit higher methinks..."

The last week has gone by in a bit of a blur - maybe it's the barely lit days; the fact that the glorious sun struggles to lift itself above the trees to brighten the Holly Cottage garden; or maybe it is just the time of year when all days seem to be building to the crescendo of holidays and time off work and an end of year breather to unwind and stay by the fire for at least three days in a row without having to drive somewhere. 

Sunday was a glorious day here - the one day in weeks where after a late breakfast I chose to linger in the garden and get a few jobs done. You know - the kind of day when the wellies are on and you're in no rush to retreat to the warmth of the fire because the sun is actually doing its job - warming your face and hands, and making otherwise-dreary winterscape golden. I took to pulling frost ridden spinach out, digging more sweet parsnips and the last of the sadly overdone turnips, and weeding out the few stray dandelions and young buttercup scourges that seeded themselves over the summer. I dug out the scraggy, slug-haven chives that originated two years ago from Cappaduff farm - we have loads more new plants - chips o' the old chive -  to replace that collapsing mess. I'm sure it's a good idea to replace old herb plants for new from time to time, but we'll stick with the hardy and generous thyme and rosemary plants for another season...oregano will more than likely be replaced in the spring. In terms of our limited space and general organisation we are faced with the reality that you really can't grow herbs and strawberries in one bed - especially when the strawberry runners are so enthusiastic and eager as to overgrow everything - rhubarb included. Some slight rearranging required there for the spring. 

Sunset at 4pm in midlands Ireland

On the inside - we've started to work on the green tomato chutney, having finished the last of the tomato chilli jam (see previous posts for details). Having just finished a block of gouda with the green tomato deliciousness - seriously, don't  pass up on an opportunity to make your own form of relish or chutney. It's one of the most rewarding things - along with the strawberry rhubarb jam - that brings the taste of summer to the winter table and helps in the good fight against the effects of winter darkness.

That said, it's hard to find any space these days on the Holly Cottage kitchen table. It seems to - nay, it has - been converted into a makeshift recording studio - not complaining! Both of us have been writing songs for years, and really most of those have been sitting wasting away in the corners of our minds for years if not decades. And so, this winter the aim is to get at least one song recorded and uploaded a week. The going is good this week - we have two of Craig's done and working on a second one of mine as I write - some spanish guitar playing in my ear going into the truly useful and easy to work GarageBand (more like kitchen band when you think about it).

It's great. Great to finally release these children into the cyber world for the amusement and hopefully pleasure of anyone who has time to listen. I always felt a bit weird about recording my own songs - always felt a bit like why would anyone bother to listen - always a bit shy about showing them off to the world - obstacles of the mind really. But, I don't think like that now. Any thought, any creative idea should be pursued. If it stays with you for a while, if it grows into something bigger, if it keeps growing - follow your instinct. Pursue that thought. For if in its creation and its fruition, that sound or expression of you, resonates with the rest of the world - even a small part - then its job is done and it is free.

http://www.reverbnation.com/catherinewilkie

http://www.reverbnation.com/craigwilkie

Finally - check out Holly's christmas time hair do...

"Did someone think this was a good idea?"

Winter Thoughts (and a beetroot chocolate cake!)

Leaves undone

It's official. Winter is truly, deeply and darkly upon us. The darkness is winning over the light, and the light - when it comes - is filtered only through a thick blanket of cloudy grey and eerie frosty mists that may or may not lift on any given day. But the sun is always there - we see it every now and then - strong and giving and golden and welcome. A reminder of what has been and what will come again. It's just that the other side of the world is feeling it's loving more. For some months now the tilt of the Earth and the seasonal change in day length will halt further growth and we must wait until spring time to get digging in the garden. The beech trees that had clung to last summer's leaves are now delivered into stark winter nakedness. How can that feel? Only the ivy, the holly and the yew hang on to their glossy dark green leaves in defiance of winter. 

I spent the last week in Austria where winter has an edge on our dark and damp Irish version. In Austria the snow was just about to land. The Austrian alps were already covered but lower hills and ski slopes waited keenly for the promise of their winter white blanket. The experience of winter there is more white and bright than grey and damp. As I write here at the kitchen table in Holly Cottage, my eyes are drawn to the cold grey rain outside our sheltering windows that has been falling through the night. And I draw the blanket closer about me as if to shield me from its cold creep, and keep my own inner fire bright, un-dampened, protected.

Holly guarding the beetroot

It's not easy, this kind of winter. But it's what we have been given. It stops us in our tracks. It demands slow down. Stop digging. Think about when and where you need to drive. Rest. Time for looking outwards is reduced to daily walks on frosty paths or muddy fields. Or a run in the dark of an early morning. Doors are only opened for necessary seconds now, saving precious warmth from its escape. Time for looking inwards now. Time for taking the ashes out daily. Time to tend the fire so that it will burn through the short days and cold nights. All through this winter, and this seasonal night. 

But it's not all dark and brooding ;) More time to enjoy the gifts of summer past. This week's gift is dark and sticky, sweet and sating beetroot chocolate cake - yum! I found this recipe  in a Rachel Allen book while waiting on the homeward bound train in Heuston one cold dark evening. It is the perfect fit for the last of the beetroot that really should be a staple in every Irish garden. From relishing it, to roasting and boiling it. It's a gift in itself. 

Made for each other ;)

Take 10oz of raw beetroot and boil for about a half an hour until cooked. Then rub of the skins, chop into pieces and pop into a blender until its finely chopped, smooth. Melt 9oz of chocolate - use the best available. For example Shana Wilkie's ;) www.WilkiesChocolate.ie Cream 9oz of butter, add 11oz of caster sugar and blend until smooth and creamy in texture. Gradually add three beaten eggs, making sure to beat in-between adding the eggs. Then add in the beetroot and the melted chocolate. It might look a bit psychedelic - enjoy it! Then sift and fold in 3oz of flour and 2oz of cocoa. I used a 8inch round tin with a removable base - make sure to line it with parchment paper. Then into the oven at 180 degrees until firm to touch - Rachel says 30-35mins but we left it for a good 50 mins. Allow to cool in the tin before taking it out. 

Winter Path

A word of warning. This cake is absolutely divine. You may feel the need to eat it all in one sitting. But don't ;) Take a decent sized slice and have it with vanilla ice cream - we also tried it with banana and chocolate ice cream easily sourced from Lidl. What a wonderful accompaniment to those winter thoughts.....it can only make them better.

Seeing the Mystic in Falling Leaves

Journey into
the darker half of the year..Samhain

There's something completely magical about this time of the year. Not magical in the Christmas sense when artificial lights are colouring houses and trees. And not magical like springtime when hosts of daffodils bend over footpaths and otherwise dreary motorways. This is mystical magical. This is the time of year when everything that we took for granted - long summer evenings, leaves on trees and things a' growing in the garden - is taken from us. The evenings shorten, the lights come on early, the fire is lit everyday and slowly but surely things that were green and living, giving - start to decay and the boundaries between living and dying are blurred. No wonder it is the time of Hallowe'en and the time for spirits to cross over into the world of the living, reminding us of our own mortality. Us Gaels refer to it as Samhain - the seasonal festival that marks the end of the harvest or growing year and welcomes the darker half of the year until the light returns again in Bealtaine (the start of May). Samhain is essentially a festival for the dead and Bealtaine a festival for the living. Meanwhile, back in 2012 Ireland....

While we shiver and bemoan winter's return, those non-humans living closer to the march of Nature's tune surrender without a peep of discontent. Towering beech trees drop the spring green leaves of summer with a gentle shiver - not however without celebrating their passing with a veritable carnival of colour - the like of which would match the canvases of any Van Gogh or Gauguin kaleidoscope of colour. The trees' palette is mostly orange and rust and yellow and purple and green (reminiscent of The Orb's Little Fluffy Clouds anyone?) and all shades between. Walls of burnt orange tunnelling a long beech lined avenue - well, it's enough to take a gal's breath awake on a cold and bitter November day ;) I like ;)

The last three weekends we have been gifted with bright blue skies and views of the sun that would shame a summer's day in Ireland. The cold would bite the nose off you but layers of wool and soft cottons defy the wicked chill and once wellies are on, it's only a matter of minutes kicking through ankle deep layers of crispy, crinkling leaves before the warmth is back in the heart and defiance of life's hardships back in the soul. The Holly dog loves it, and her nose is well buried where newly fallen leaves meet rotting humus. What she hopes to find under all those layers I can only imagine, but the sense of joy that is conveyed by the constant wagging of golden cocker spaniel tail is testament to the joy of the woods and all that it brings her. She first came to us as a puppy in a late October, and I like to think that this is her true time of the year, and her golden coat blends well with the golden carpet that covers the woodland floor.

This one is a teaser - can you spot the Holly dog?

Other than walking the woods in our spare time, it's been pretty quiet on the Holly Cottage garden front. The first fine sunny day we had we emptied the greenhouse of collapsing tomato and cucumber plants, grow bags and all! Then it was time for washing - sudsy water to rid the plastic of the veneer of algae that had built up over summer. The job was painless and kind of therapeutic in some ways. We were reminded of the sweet cucumbers and the cherry delights that we feasted on since July, but resolve was strengthened to do a better job next year....whatever that will bring. In our autumn clean we did encounter the odd brazen slug who was hoping for a mild winter ride under a frost free ledge. Seriously, is there no end to their slug terror? In other news, all the carrots are up, a few sad turnips are left in the ground, beetroot is all harvested and a bounty of parsnips remain in the ground for the winter oven. Speaking of which...

Tonight's creation is oven baked sausages with roasted onions, potatoes and parsnips - you said it, yum ;) Cut spuds and parsnips into wedges, onions cut head to toe. Drizzle with oil, add a sprinkle of fennel and cumin seeds and some fresh thyme. Into the oven at 200deg for 30mins. Then add your favourite sausages - meat or veggie. Roast for another 20mins, let it sit for a few minutes out of the oven - if you can - and then enjoy immensely ;) It's a recipe from the captain of the River Cottage ship, Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall....oh so tasty.  Check out the following link, and enjoy!
http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2012/feb/24/sausage-recipes-hugh-fearnley-whittingstall

River Cottage pic..the Holly Cottage pic wasn't taken quick enough ;)