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 Tickling the Palate (2014), "Irish literature is replete with descriptions of food." 

Take, for example, The Hermit's Song or Marban to Guaire. It is 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 writer J.P. McMahon explored in their work, 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 a return 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.

A Casualty of History

When the people don't give a damn about reason, they can be manipulated quite easily - and in such cases the perception of the people are manufactured by those controlling the narratives. As a result, ask an Azerbaijani, "who do you think is at fault for the conflict at Nagorno-Karabakh" and they'll say, "Armenia of course" .... Hard as it may sound, whoever controls the narrative, controls the people. And the only way to break that spell is to practice reason, but without losing your warmth.

-- Abhijit Naskar

It is often hard to find a narrative that is not tainted by whoever wields it, especially when it comes to culture, history and/or politics. There are often multiple narratives, some of which are irreconcilable. Yet, even in the fog of conflicting narratives, some facts shine through. Those facts cannot be denied, because they unfold before our eyes or the sounds reach our ears. This has been the case for the past days, weeks and indeed months as a so-called "breakaway republic" will now fade into the pages of history books. The consequences of what happened will live on, not only in those who suffered in the past, but in the suffering of untold numbers in the future. 

The "breakaway republic" that I am referring to is known as the Republic of Artsakh, more commonly known as Nagorno-Karabakh. The latter name is a combination of Russian (Nagorno) and Turkish/Persian (Karabakh) that translates roughly into "mountainous black garden." The Armenians living in the region preferred to call it Artsakh, because that lacked any reference to Russians, Turks, Persians or Azerbaijani. I will refer to Nagorno-Karabakh and Artsakh interchangeably. No country has recognized Nagorno-Karabakh as an independent state; instead, it has been considered to be part of Azerbaijan. Yet, the people who live within the borders of Nagorno-Karabakh are overwhelmingly Armenian. 

That one fact -- a region populated by Armenians that is part of a larger country whose majority is Azerbaijani -- provides the starting point. The mapmakers who created this issue were colonialists, but of a Russian kind. The Russian Empire obtained territory throughout the Caucasus Mountains, including both Armenia and Azerbaijan, as part of treaties that ended the Russian-Persian war in the early nineteenth century. Wars erupted between the Armenians and Azerbaijani in 1917 over various parts of their territories.  It was not until the aftermath of the Russian Revolution, when the Bolsheviks occupied Azerbaijan (including Nagorno-Karabakh) and Armenia, that the borders began to become fixed. The resulting Soviet Union decided that the Nagorno-Karabakh region would remain in Azerbaijan, but the region would retain significant autonomy. That seemed to settle the matter ... until the Soviet Union ceased to exist. 

Azeri poster about Karabakh,
saying "Stand up, son of a Turk" 

As the Soviet Union crumbled, tensions increased within Nagorno-Karabakh. The majority Armenian population wanted the region to be transferred to Armenia. However, they could not get anyone to support their calls. In August and September 1991, both Azerbaijan and Armenia obtained their independence from what was the Soviet Union. Thereafter, the situation began to deteriorate precipitously.  On November 26, 1991, Azerbaijan ended the separate structure of Nagorno-Karabakh (officially known as the Nagorno-Karabakh Autonomous Oblast) and placed the entire region under Azeri control. The region conducted a referendum on December 10, 1991 (boycotted by Azerbaijanis) that resulted in a call for unification with Armenia. The lines were drawn. War broke out. 

The war killed approximately 30,000 people and made refugees out of hundreds of thousands more. A ceasefire was negotiated in 1994 and relative peace was achieved. I say relative because fighting would take place over the coming years and decades, including as recently as 2020. During that conflict, Azerbaijan not only attacked positions within Nagorno-Karabakh, but also Armenia. Those hostilities ended with another cease fire, but it seemed that Azerbaijan was gaining the upper hand.

But it is the events of the past few weeks that gave rise to the casualty of history. For some (additional) context, the predominantly Armenian territory of Nagorno-Karabakh was connected to the country of Armenia by one road, known as the Lachin corridor. Initially, a group of "environmentalists" blocked the corridor. I use the term in quotes because many of those "environmentalists" had connections with the Azerbaijani government. That government also cut off all gas supplies to Nagorno-Karabakh.

The Lachin checkpoint

Azerbaijan escalated the issue by establishing a checkpoint in the Lachin corridor. Perhaps the more appropriate term is a "chokepoint." The Azerbaijani military has used the checkpoint to restrict the passage of goods, materials and commodities between Armenia and Nagorno-Karabakh. Azerbaijan imposed a blockade in April 2023, depriving the people of Nagorno-Karabakh of what they needed to survive, like food, gas and medicine. The blockade soon extended to anything and everything by June 2023. The people of Nagorno-Karabakh were cut off from not only Armenia, but the entire world.  

On September 19, 2023, Azerbaijan commenced a military offensive, which ended one day later with a ceasefire, along with subsequent violations of the ceasefire. Azerbaijan then commenced its efforts to integrate Nagorno-Karabakh into the country. The violence, along with the seeming end of any autonomy, led to a mass exodus of Armenians from Nagorno-Karabakh to Armenia. As of the end of September 2023, more than 100,000 Armenians have fled to safety in Armenia. The population of Nagorno-Karabakh was approximately 120,000 prior to the recent Azerbaijani military offensive. Those who remain would be forced to accept Azerbaijani citizenship.

Ethnic Armenians fleeing Nagorno-Karabakh. Source: Vasily Krestyaninov (AP)

So, here we are, after months of an economic blockade, Azerbaijan used overwhelming military might to force the surrender of the governmental authorities in Nagorno-Karabakh. The military victory paves the way for the former Republic of Artsakh to be fully incorporated into Azerbaijan. The treatment of the Armenian people has led to a mass exodus that could, at the very least, be described as an act of ethnic cleansing.  Alternatively, Azerbaijan's conduct could be described, as it has by several legal experts, as a crime against humanity. 

The objective of the crime is two-fold: (1) to eliminate the Republic of Artsakh; and (2) to eliminate the Armenian culture that developed within its borders. As Azerbaijan has largely achieved both goals, feelings of powerlessness and meaninglessness may seem too much to overcome. Then again, remember who controls the narrative. In the face of violence and inhumanity, we can break the control over the narrative. So that no one will forget who lived in the mountainous black garden that the Armenians called Artsakh.

That is the purpose of this post. My goal is to make the one food that indisputably comes from the Armenian community that lived in Artsakh. That food is called Zhingalov Khats. The recipe embodies the principle of "Karabaghstin sovadz chi mnoum" or "the people of Karabakh do not remain hungry." During the wars with Azerbaijan, the local populace would gather greens from the forest and elsewhere to prepare this dish, as well as a broth of wild greens. 

The recipe starts with an unleavened dough, which is rolled out into a thin circle. A filling is then prepared by chopping various herbs very finely. If one were preparing this dish in Artsakh, they would be looking for herbs that go by the name of k'ndzmendzyuk, chercheruk, s'msemok and mokhratal. These are just some of the at least seven herbs that are used to make zhingalov khats. Some recipes call for as many as twenty herbs for the filling. Regardless of the number of herbs used, the other ingredients include lemon juice, paprika and some salt. The dough is then folded over and sealed. The packet is then pressed slightly so that it looks like a deflated American football. Once the bread is ready, it is cooked over a saj, which is a specialized domed griddle.

In my case, I prepared a filling that consisted of cilantro, spinach, kale, Swiss chard and scallions.  I could not reach the threshold of seven ingredients because I had some difficulty in finding the other greens at my local grocery store. These greens and herbs included chervil, turnip greens, tarragon, radish tops, sorrel and watercress. Nevertheless, I kept those ingredients in the recipe below in case you are able to find them in your local store. As for the preparation, once I placed the stuffing and sealed the dough, I used a standard griddle to cook the bread.

One final note: it is said that zhingalov khats is best enjoyed with a fine red wine. I definitely have a suggestion, namely, the Karas Classic Red, which comes from Armenia.

ZHINGALOV KHATS

Recipe adapted from Cafe Osharak and New York Times

Serves 4

Ingredients (for the Lavash):

• 2/3 cup lukewarm water
• 1 teaspoon kosher salt
• 1 1/2 cups of all purpose flour, plus 200 grams more for dusting

Ingredients (for the filling):

• 2 pounds chard, tough stems discarded
• 4 packed cups fresh cilantro, chervil and dill leaves and tender stems
• 4 packed radish greens and sorrel
• 6 spring onions or 10 scallions, thinly sliced
• 2 tablespoon lemon juice
• 3 tablespoons sunflower oil or other neutral oil
• Lavash dough

Directions:

1. Prepare the lavash. In a medium bowl, combine 1 1/2 cups of flour and the salt. pour the lukewarm water into a large bowl, then gradually add the flour mixture, using your hands to incorporate. The dough will be sticky. Dust the counter with flour, turn dough onto it and knead gently until the surface becomes smooth and the dough stops sticking to your hands and counter, about 5 minutes. Roll the dough into a ball, place it in a lightly oiled bowl, turn it to coat, then cover it with a kitchen towel. Let it rest at room temperature for 20 minutes to 1 hour.  

2. Prepare the filling. Wash and dry all of the greens. Chop the greens finely. Mix with spring onions, lemon juice and salt. 

3. Prepare the bread. Spread flour over the work surface. Divide the dough into 4 equal pieces and roll into thin 8 inch ovals using a rolling pin. Place about 2 cups of the filling in the center, then use your hand to pat it down into a round, leaving about a 1 inch border of dough. Pick up the two opposite sides of the dough and pinch them together over the center of the filing, from top to bottom so the middle is wide and the ends form points. 

4. Continue to prepare the bread. Firmly pinch the seam to make sure it's sealed, then turn the dough over and gently flatten it out with the palm of your hand so it resembles a deflated football, sealing any holes in the rough. It should be about 1/4 to 1/2 inch thick. If it is thicker, use a rolling pin to smooth it out aa little. Pinch shut any holes in the dough and then place it on parchment. Repeat steps 3 and 4 with the remaining dough.

5. Cook the bread. Heat a large cast iron pan over medium high. Working with one dough portion at a time, place the dough seam-side down in the center of the pan. Lower the heat to medium and cook for about 3 minutes, until cooked and lightly browned in places. Flip, and cook the other side for 2 minutes. If the dough seems raw in places, flip and cook evenly. Repeat for the rest of the zhingalov khats and serve warm or at room temperature.

*    *    *

Nagorno-Karabakh has become a casualty of history. A history of artificially drawn borders, dividing communities with political boundaries that, sometimes, bind those communities with larger groups of people. When one adds the worst of humanity - distrust and hatred of those who are different - with the desire for power and control, then the scene is set for the events of Nagorno-Karabakh. The only question is when the final act will play out. It has unfolded while the world has watched. It did so silently as brutality, inhumanity and violence caused Artsakh to fall and to force over 80% of the population to flee their homes. 

I leave you with one last note: there are many more Nagorno-Karabakhs across the globe. As you read this post, the military forces of Serbia are amassing along the border with Kosovo, a breakaway republic in the Balkans that is only partially recognized. My guess is that the Serbian government has made a bet: if the West sat silent as Azerbaijan ethnically cleansed Nagorno-Karabakh, then it is unlikely to do anything if the scene repeats itself in Kosovo. 

Only time will tell.

Meatballs with Orecchiette, Kale and Pine Nuts

I am not the only one who cooks in our family.  My beautiful wife, Clare, is also a great cook and a great baker.  Every once in a while, I ask my Angel to provide a guest blog post so that I can share some of the amazing and delicious things that she makes for family, friends and, of course, me.  She has already provided guest blog posts about Cuban Bread, Loyalist Bread, Salmon Burgers, Peach Cobbler and Parmesan Soufflé with White Wine Butter Sauce.   So, without further ado,

A Guest Blog Post by Clare ...

This dish -- Meatballs with Orecchiette, Kale and Pine Nuts -- was the second dish from our recent wine club dinner.  As Keith previously explained in connection with the first dish, Grilled Seafood with Romesco Sauce, we hosted a wine dinner based on the recipes of Chef Gordon Ramsay.  Keith has watched a lot of Gordon Ramsay's shows, like Hell's Kitchen and Master Chef; however, we did not want this dinner to be like either of those shows.  Instead, the recipes were chosen to reflect Gordon Ramsay's interest in various cuisines.

This recipe is a both a display of Southern Italian cuisine and a twist with the flavors.  Orecchiette is a traditional pasta from Apulia, a region in southern Italy.  In Apulia, this pasta may be served with broccoli, anchovies and chiles.  The twist comes from Chef Ramsay's substitution of meatballs, kale and pine nuts.   

We decided to add our own little twist to Chef Ramsay's recipe.  His recipe calls for the use of beef meatballs; however, I do not eat red meat.  So, Keith suggested that we substitute ground turkey for ground meat.  I do eat turkey, so that substitution worked well.

Both Keith and I really liked this dish; and, I think we will make this recipe again ... if at the very least to ensure that Keith gets enough greens in his diet. 

MEATBALLS WITH ORECCHIETTE, KALE AND PINE NUTS

Recipe from Gordon Ramsay's Cookery Course

Serves 4

Ingredients (for the pasta):

2 cups of dried orecchiette pasta

2 garlic cloves, peeled and sliced

Slightly less than 1 cup of kale

4 tablespoons of pine nuts, toasted

Freshly grated Parmesan cheese

Ingredients (for the meatballs):

1 small onion, peeled and finely diced

2 garlic cloves, peeled and finely sliced

Olive oil

1 teaspoon of dried chile flakes

1 pound of minced beef (or turkey)

1/3 cup of fresh breadcrumbs

3-4 tablespoons of milk

Sea salt

Freshly ground black pepper

Directions:

1.  Prepare the meatballs.  Saute the onion and garlic with seasoning in a hot oiled frying pan for about 5 minutes until soft and lightly colored, adding the chile flakes after a minute or two.  Place the mince in a large bowl and add seasoning.  Put the breadcrumbs in a separate bowl and moisten with the milk.  Add seasoning, then stir the breadcrumbs and onion mixture into the mince and combine well.  With wet hands, shape the mince mixture into small balls about 2 centimeters wide.  Transfer to a lightly greased plate or tray and chill for 30 minutes until firm. 

2.  Cook the pasta.  Cook the pasta in boiling salted water until al dente, according to packet instructions.  

3.  Prepare the meatballs and kale.  Heat a large frying pan over a medium heat and add a little olive oil.  Brown the meatballs for 6 minutes until colored on all sides.   Add the garlic to the pan and cook for 2 minutes until tender, then add the kale and season.  Sweat the kale over medium heat for 5 minutes with a couple of tablespoons of the cooking water from the pasta.  Taste and adjust the seasoning as necessarty, then stir in the pine nuts.

4.  Finish the dish.  Drain the pasta, reserving a few tablespoons of the cooking water.  Tip the pasta into the pan with the meatballs and stir over a medium-low heat until well mixed.  Add a good handful of finely grated Parmesan, and mix well with a little cooking water to help coat the pasta.  Taste and adjust the seasoning as necessary.  Serve garnished with another grating of Parmesan.

And, as Keith says ...

ENJOY!