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....

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.

A week in the life (through bleary eyes)

Tomatoes as big as Holly :)

Nothing will ever be the same - we know that now. The days pass in a blur of early morning moving swiftly into midday, afternoon and back to night and morning that comes again all too quickly and abruptly. There is no night anymore - no designated sleep time, no designated holy rest for a weary body. Night time becomes morning very soon after midnight and so too does the cue for the 2am feed that is barely finished before the 5am feed, that demands the 7.30am feed that leads to the 8.30am feed to the.....you get the picture. There is only one guaranteed sacred quiet time that remains - and that is the time between the grown-ups' dinner time (just about 9pm - more Mediterranean than Irish I know - I blame the Bajan in him ;) ) and the last feed of the 24 hour clock before she is packed up in bundles of pink blankets and lain down through fits and starts for the one three hour of session sleep that she has gifted to us everyday so far in all of the first three weeks of her life. 

These days, instead of having lists of 'things to do' and realistic ambitions of a suite of tasks that must be done for the world to go on (as I previously knew it) - I have basically reduced my expectations to 'getting one thing done in any given day' and that makes me feel like I am still even slightly my own person and therefore not totally and utterly surrendered to the needs of our beautiful daughter, Alannah. One thing every day. And you know what, I am glad to get that one thing done even if I don't get it completely done, if I at least get it started or if I manage to get a thought of it (which is a start in itself if you recount that all of the greatest achievements in life begin with a thought?). Let me give you some examples of the 'one thing' - successfully making dinner from start to end despite having to rock Alannah with one left foot while chopping onions (Monday); baking bread from a start of getting the dry ingredients together early in the day to baking it later that night along with the head chef's dinner creation (Tuesday)....

Chocolate beetroot cake, oh my!
Light and fluffy and chocolatey divine

....complete execution of divine chocolate beetroot cake - it was a push! (Wednesday); hoovering and dusting the first time in four weeks and an article for the Yoga Therapy Ireland magazine (Thursday); helping with the shopping with her in a cosy sling (Friday) and (finally) enjoying the sunshine yesterday and getting around to picking very ripe tomatoes and those nasty weeds along the garden path that have been jeering me for the last two weeks (Saturday). Sunday will be publishing this post - I hope (I think). That is 'one thing' on top of at least twelve feeding sessions, between ten and twelve nappy changes, a wash for Alannah, one shower for me - usually lasting 2 minutes - a short walk with Holly dog and a few cold cups of tea in between (forget about actually finishing a cup of tea while it is still hot). 

And that is how it has been for the first three weeks. What a learning curve and what a dramatic change in existence. We've all been experiencing the change - not least Alannah herself. What must it be like in a world where everything is blurred and you must rely on others around you entirely for your life support. How helpless she is, and how humbling it is to be the ones that are keeping her warm and dry and fed and safe and contented and secure. For that is the most important of all things now and that is the 'one thing' that has engulfed and overshadowed all other seemingly important 'things' that pre-dated Alannah's arrival in the Holly Cottage.  

Muse in pink 

And so, through bleary eyes I draft this on a Saturday night before the last feed and the collapse into warm and cosy bed for three precious hours of dreamtime. Holly is curled up sleeping in her bed, head chef has hung up his apron for the night, and Alannah - like Holly - is lost in her own dreams of who knows what. For how can they be dreams as we know them without colour or shape or form or name or direction? If only she could tell us. But she is giving us a smile every now and then, and that in itself is more than enough reward...

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.......

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.