Roast poussin with a rich apricot stuffing recipe
I love the combination of meat and fruit. We had planned to dine on stuffed and rolled breast of lamb tonight but I couldn’t find it in the freezer. Our freezer is not large but it requires superhuman skills to pack any extra items in. The freezer always seems to be chock a bloc. In fact I need to be in “Sherlock Holmes super sleuth” mode to find anything. If I remove something it doesn’t necessarily mean that there is suddenly a bit more space. A genie seems to hop in and fill the gap with a smirk. We were out all day...
read moreEwes
I can’t believe that it’s midsummer’s day today. Gentle Irish rain on and off all day. And I’ve been alone for most of it. Working on a big estate, a large house and a few cottages set in massive grounds, I often see no one but I do have animals and wildlife for company. And that’s to be treasured. The lambs are getting quite chunky now. I’ve watched them on an off for the past six weeks or so. Today they were much more independent. Splashing each other at the water trough. Playing like puppies. Tearing...
read moreUpdate on Mrs Boss and the ducklings: one glorious month old
The ducklings are thriving. You haven’t heard much about them as there seems to be little to report. But writing this post this evening there seems to be loads. And I havn’t even touched on Carol bursting into the Emerald Castle to steal their greens! The ducklings are tall now, towering over Mrs Boss – the small, squat bantam that is their adoptive mum. Tiny feathers are appearing on their wings and tails and they are still covered with the softest down. One duckling has started to quack. A fuzzy sort of sound, reminiscent...
read moreHow to eat your own new potatoes on Christmas Day
As a woman, I move in a strange world. Filled with ladders, vans, dust, men and the occasional dog that observes me closely as I pass by. There are very few women at the builder’s merchants where I buy my paint. In fact I have never seen one buying anything alone. A woman is always accompanied by a man. So my progression in the builder’s merchants from Oddity to UBOK (Unusual But OK) has been a bit of a rocky one. Finally, after five years, I know and like the guys behind the desk. We chat when I need to have paint mixed. Sometimes...
read moreThe Syringa Summerhouse and flowers from the garden June 2008
My mum pruned her Philadelphus on Sunday and had saved a large bunch of flowering branches for me. The Philadelphus (Mock Orange) has a special meaning for mum. When she was a child she played in a Philadelphus summer house in her parents’ garden. She always calls it the Syringa Summerhouse. In those days Syringa was a name for Philadelphus and didn’t refer to lilac as it does now. “The grown ups weren’t interested in it at all so I thought of it as mine.” I’d always imagined this summerhouse at the end of a...
read moreThe ten minute soup challenge: Quick hot and sour vegetable soup recipe
My night time dreams have been rich and startling recently. I dreamt that my pond was full of tropical fish, molluscs and crustaceans. Bright pink and yellow scallops hung on the sides as I watched small electric blue fish swim between my toes. I woke in the morning exhausted from this adventure and longing for seafood. But we’re back on the soup for weekday lunch regime and I needed to make some while I rustled up breakfast. In the winter I’m happy to cook large batches at the weekend, freeze them and pull out a carton each night....
read moreOur garden’s alive 24/7
The front door opens into the cottage kitchen and from the same room the back door reveals the garden. In summertime it’s always a wrench closing the garden door when it gets too dark to see. I keep it open for as long as possible. I’ve even been known to cook supper wearing a thick fleece. Then I can enjoy the birds and, as the light gradually fades, watch the colours in the garden slowly drift and fall asleep. Some summers have us eating by the pond, wrapped in blankets, serenaded by the owls and the rustles in the undergrowth...
read moreThe naming of things. Asparagus, Ham and Rice Bake Recipe
When I was a wooden toymaker I made a small car, simply shaped, immensely tactile. My sister christened it the Dumpy Car. I knew in an instant that the name would sell the car. I’d listen to people chatting about the toys on the stand. If I heard them mention the Dumpy Car, I knew that they were likely to buy. The words sound comfortable and solid, good in the mouth, with just enough resonance. I sold thousands of them. Danny has a problem with the name “bake”. “Never make us a bake. I’d have to leave. Just...
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