Around the World in 80 Dishes: Ireland

 "Laughter is brightest in the place where the food is."

-- Irish proverb

This proverb recognizes that food, especially good food, can create community, bringing together people in an environment of hospitality and inclusion, which leads to happiness and joy. While that recognition is a truism, the proverb originated in a country, Ireland, whose history is marked with roughly seven centuries of colonization, deprivation, and famine. That history hardly produces circumstances where food, let alone laughter, abounds.

Yet, the history of the Irish people and their cuisine goes back much further than British colonialism. Indeed, Irish cuisine spans some 8,000 years and that history has been well documented. As chef, restauranteur and writer J.P. McMahon once observed, "[f]ood has always lived in the background of Irish poetry and folklore, simmering quietly, never quite at its centre, yet essential to its scent and materiality." Indeed, one needs only look to Irish literature to get some insight into the ingredients, dishes and meals that have been served across the Emerald Isle over time. And, As Mairtin Mac Con Iomaire and Eamon Maher wrote in Ticking the Palate (2014), "Irish literature is replete with descriptions of food." 

Take, for example, The Hermit's Song or Marban to Guaire. Iti s a poem written in the 8th century C.E. The poem reads:

To what meals the woods invite me

All about! 

There are water, herbs and cresses,

Salmon, trout.

A clutch of eggs, sweet mast and honey

Are my meat,

Heathberries and whortleberries for a sweet.

Round me grows,

There are hips and haws and strawberries,

Nuts and sloes.

And when summer spreads its mantle

What a sight! 

Marjoram and leaks and pignuts,

Juicy, bright.

All of those wonderful ingredients and not one of them was a potato. (Potatoes are a relatively new ingredient, having been introduced in Ireland about 400 years ago.)

This wealth of ingredients and dishes fell out of reach for most Irish over time, and the literature describing Irish cuisine became more barren. Much of this occurred during the period of English and British colonization, which began in 1169 but brought the entire island under colonial rule during the 17th century. The colonialist policies, along with British landownership, forced much of the population into poverty.  And, by 1840, nearly 75% of the Irish were poor. Their cuisine became one that is often described as the food of the poor. The Irish survived by raising and eating what they had on hand, whether it was sheep or root vegetables -- like the potato -- that they could cultivate in their own gardens.  Indeed, the potato was vital to survival. As Dr. Mac Con Iomaire observed, the Irish found that they could grow "enough potatoes on one acre of poor or marginal land to feed a family of ten, with very little work." But, when the potato blight hit Ireland, the loss of this critical foodstuff led to the Great Famine and Great Hunger, with at least one million dying and another million leaving Ireland. 

As one would expect, Irish literature reflected the more difficult times. The ballad, "The Praties They Grow Small" is a work that starkly evokes the hunger of the Irish people: 

Oh, the praties they grow small,

Over here, over here

Oh, the praties they grow small

And we dig them in the fall.

And we eat them skins and all, 

Over here, over here.

Oh, I wish that we were geese,

Night and morn, night and morn,

Oh, I wish that we were geese,

For they fly and take their ease

And they live and die in peace,

Eating corn, eating corn.

The long periods of deprivation took their toll in so many ways. And, as writers J.P. McMahon explored in their works, that deprivation continued to present itself in Irish art and literature, long after the end of colonialization.

Since its independence, Ireland -- along with its people and their cuisine -- have indeed recovered what they have lost with returned to the wealth of ingredients from both the land and the sea. For one thing, the Irish are known for their cheeses, whether it is the Dunbarra, a brie style cheese from County Cork; the Durrus, a washed rind cheese from West Cork; or the Drumlin, a raw cow's milk cheese from County Cavan. (Not all Irish cheese begin with the letter "D" but I chose these three to show the range of cheeses from north to south of the isle). Then there is also the seafood, whether it is mussels in cream, served along the shores of the Galway Bay, or the Dublin Bay prawns. And, of course, the there are beef, lamb and mutton dishes, such as Irish Stew, corned beef, and spiced beef.  

MAIN COURSE

Irish stew has always been prepared with what farmers and their families had on hand. Prior to the late 16th century, the stew consisted basically of mutton (or goat), onions and water. After the potato was introduced to Ireland in the late 1500s, farmers and cooks began adding slices of the tuber to help thicken the stew. 

One of the earliest written recipes for Irish Stew, which reflects the combination of mutton, onions, potatoes and water, comes from the O'Brien family, who lived in southern Ireland during the 1600s. The Countess of Thomond wrote down the recipe: 

To make an Irish stew of mutton Season the bones of a neck of mutton with pepper and salt, put it down with a layer of onions, put them in a covered stewpan, to keep in the steam & as much water as will cover it. The chops must be very tender, but as they are all put down together, the potatoes must be taken out first, as they burst. 

Over time, as more ingredients became available, cooks would add them to the stew, such as substituting lamb for mutton. And, that is what I am doing here, as the preparation of Irish Stew will satisfy this personal culinary challenge for my Around the World in 80 Dishes. 

STOBHACH GAELACH (IRISH STEW)

Recipe from New York Times

Serves 6 to 8

Ingredients:

• 3 pounds lamb shoulder, cut into 2 inch chunks
• Salt
• Pepper
• 4 tablespoons vegetable oil
• 2 pounds onions (about 6 medium), cut into wedges
• 1 pound of carrots (about 6 medium), cut into 3-inch lengths
• 4 cups chicken, veal or beef broth
• 1 large sprig thyme
• 3 pounds russet potatoes (about 12 small), peeled and halved in 2-inch thick slices

Directions:

1. Brown the lamb. Pat lamb dry and season well with salt and pepper. Put oil in a heavy-bottomed soup pot over medium high heat. Brown meat on all sides, working in batches. 

2. Cook vegetables. Set meat aside and add onions and carrots to the pot. Season with salt and pepper. Cook vegetables, stirring, until lightly browed, about 3 minutes. Heat oven to 350 degrees. 

3. Continue the stew. Return meat to pot, add broth and bring to a simmer. Put in thyme sprig and arrange potatoes on top (it's fine if potatoes are not completely submerged. Season potatoes, cover pot and transfer to oven). 

4. Continue the stew. Bake for about 1 hour, until lamb is quite tender when probed with a skewer or pairing knife. Remove fat from the top of broth. Ladle stew into shallow bowls and serve. 

SIDE DISH

Colcannon is a uniquely Irish dish that features mashed potatoes mixed with kale or cabbage. As Dr. Mairtin Mac Con Iomaire once described it, colcannon brings together the ancient and the modern of Irish cuisine. The ancient is represented in the cabbage or kale, which has been grown by the Irish on farms or in gardens for centuries. The modern is, as you may have guessed by now, the potato. The combination of the two ingredients creates a filling dish that could sustain a working person, whether in the fields or in factories, for a long time. 

And, as you also may have guessed, colcannon has its place in Irish art and literature. The first reference to the dish comes from a diary entry written in 1735 by William Bulkely. Mr. Bulkely was traveling from Wales and found himself in Dublin on Halloween night. As he recalled, "Dined at Cos. Wm. Parry, and also supped there upon a shoulder of mutton roasted and what they call there Coel Callen, which is cabbage boiled, potatoes, and parsnips, all this mixed together. They eat well enough, and is a Dish always ahd in this Kingdom on this night." 

There is also a children's song, "The Auld Skillet Pot," that provides a rather vivid description of the dish. The lyrics include: 

Well, did you ever make colcannon made with lovely picked cream

With the greens and scallions mingled like a picture in a dream

Did you ever make a hole on top to hold the 'melting' flake

Of the creamy flavored butter that our mothers used to make

Oh you did, so you did, so did he and so did I

And the more I think about it, sure the nearer I'm to cry

Oh weren't them the happy days when troubles we knew not

And our mother made colcannon in the little skillet pot.

Guided, and perhaps inspired, by this history and art, I decided to make colcannon. (I have to admit that I needed that inspiration because neither cabbage nor kale rank very high on the list of my favorite ingredients to cook with or eat.) And, while I will not be composing songs or writing poems about this dish, I have to admit that it was very good ... and filling.  

COLCANNON

Recipe from The Spruce Eats

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 3 large (about 2 pounds) Yukon Gold potatoes, peeled and quartered
• 2 teaspoons fine salt, more to taste
• 6 tablespoons unsalted butter, at room temperature, divided
• 3 cups coarsely chopped kale or other seasonal greens (leaves only, tough ribs discarded)
• 4 medium green onions, thinly sliced, white and green parts divided
• 1 dried or fresh bay leaf
• 1 1/4 cups milk
• 1 teaspoon dry mustard powder
• Freshly ground black pepper, to taste

Directions:

1. Boil the potatoes. Put the potatoes into a large (4-quart) saucepan. Add 2 teaspoons fine salt and enough cold water to cover the potatoes by 2 inches. Bring to a boil over high heat. Cook until the largest potatoes are tender (they will yield easily when pierced with a fork and break apart), about 12 minutes. Drain in a colander set in a sink while you prepare the greens. Set the saucepan aside; you will use it again. 

2. Prepare the greens. Melt 2 tablespoons of unsalted butter in a medium skillet over medium, heat. Add the kale (or other seasonal greens), white parts of the scallions, and the bay leaf and cook, stirring occasionally until the kale is tender, about 5 minutes. 

3. Add the milk. Add the milk and dry mustard. Once the milk simmers, reduce the heat to low and keep warm. 

4. Finish the dish. Return the drained potatoes to the reserved saucepan. Add the remaining 4 tablespoons of unsalted butter and the green parts of the scallions. Mash with a potato masher until nearly smooth. Add the kale-milk mixture to the saucepan, discarding the bay leaf. Stir to combine. The mixture may initially appear too liquidy, but it will thicken as the potato starch absorbs the mosture. Season with salt and freshly ground pepper to taste and serve. 

*     *     *

This challenge was a success, especially given that I ate the Colcannon despite my aversion to kale. The Irish stew was also delicious and, although I was a little worried about the size of the lamb chunks and other chunks, they cooked nicely. (Tip: maybe cook stuff a little longer, maybe 15 minutes more.) There is so much more that I could write about, both with respect to Irish cuisine and its reflection in art and literature. There is also so much more I need to make, whether it is Mussels and Cream from the south of the Island or Greencastle Chowder from the north of the Island. There will definitely be additional posts about Ireland and its cuisine. Until then ...

PEACE.