People. You are not going to make this. I just know it. From top to tail, it takes nearly a day.  There is yeast in the pastry. It needs to rise. It’s buttery and fussy.

But, it is so damned good. Divine, actually. Divine in the purest divinity sense of the word. I phoned people to tell them about how good this tart turned out. I prattled on about it to school parents who don’t even know me. I confessed to the priest. Teddy, our Airedale, is sick of hearing about it. Now, it’s time for you.

I prepared the homemade cheese with the morning milk from our dairy. The baked filling tastes like a wonderful childhood memory that includes cheese Kolaches and Danish from Jerry’s Bakery with glasses of cold milk and cartoons on a Saturday morning. I think there was a crumbly cheese coffee cake that my grandmother used to serve as well. It’s that soft crumbly cheese consistency that I crave.

This is a recipe from Martha Stewart Living so, of course, it worked. Still, I was nervous throughout the proving process. The dough is really sticky. The kind that you simply cannot punch down without getting your knuckles stuck in.  I’d never used yeast for pastry before. But, now that I have succeeded, it’s one more notch on my ye old ‘pastry perfection’ stick. {If you are new here, I struggle with pastry and have vowed to win!}

If you come to the farm and visit we can make it together…fresh cheese and all. I need some company, and if takes temptation by tarte au fromage so be it.

Have a look at the recipe and see what you think.

Sweet Farmers Cheese Tart {or, if you’re French or fancy: Tarte au Fromage}

Dough

1 2/3 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for surface

3 tablespoons sugar

1 tablespoon active dry yeast (from two 1/4-ounce envelopes)

1/2 cup warm water

1 large egg yolk

1/4 teaspoon salt

7 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened, plus more for bowl and pan

Filling

1 cup sugar, divided

1 tablespoon all-purpose flour

1 3/4 cups (14 ounces) farmer cheese, room temperature

1/2 cup (4 ounces) creme fraiche, room temperature

1 large egg yolk, plus 3 large egg whites, room temperature, divided

1/4 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

1 tablespoon unsalted butter, melted

1/2 cup applesauce

Dough: Mix together flour, sugar, yeast, water, egg yolk, and salt in the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the dough hook until a dough is formed, about 3 minutes. Add butter, and mix until incorporated, about 3 minutes (dough will be sticky). Transfer dough to a buttered bowl, cover with plastic wrap, and let rise at room temperature until almost doubled, about 1 hour. Punch down dough, cover, and let rise 30 minutes. Refrigerate dough, still in bowl and covered, until firm, about 2 hours.

Punch down dough. Roll out into a 12-inch round on a lightly floured surface. Fit dough into a buttered 9 1/2-by-2 1/2-inch fluted tart pan with a removable bottom, pressing dough up to rim of pan. Prick dough all over with a fork, cover loosely with plastic wrap, and let rise 30 minutes.

Filling: Preheat oven to 350 degrees with rack in lowest position. Whisk together 3/4 cup sugar and the flour. Whisk together farmer cheese, creme fraiche, egg yolk, salt, and vanilla; stir in sugar mixture, then butter, with a wooden spoon.

Beat egg whites with a mixer on medium speed until foamy. Raise speed to medium-high, and gradually sprinkle in remaining 1/4 cup sugar. Beat until medium glossy peaks form, about 4 minutes. Fold half the egg whites into cheese mixture to lighten, then fold in remaining egg whites.

Spread applesauce in crust, and pour filling on top of applesauce. Bake 30 minutes, then check crust; if it is starting to brown significantly, tent edge with foil. Bake until crust is deep golden brown and filling is puffed, golden, and just set (it should barely wobble when very lightly shaken), about 25 minutes. Let cool, undisturbed, on a wire rack 1 hour. Unmold tart, and let cool at least 30 minutes. Tart is best served slightly warm but can also be served at room temperature.

Coming?

Slan Abhaile,

Imen

Photos and styling by Imen McDonnell 2013

Tags: American, country life, Danish, farm, farmer, farmer cheese, farmette, Farming, food, foodie, foodies, I Married An Irish Farmer, Imen McDonnell, ireland, Irish country living, irish farmer, Irish food photography, irish foodies, kolaches, Married an Irish Farmer, married an irishman, Martha Stewart, tart, tarte au fromage, yeast pastry

Tipsy + Cake. Two of my favourite things…which I suppose not so ironically also happen to marry well. I tend to file them in the “things that make you feel good” folder. Especially in the case of coupling a super dense + buttery Madeira with rum and apricot conserve. Don’t worry, if you want to share with the children use the booze on one half and leave the other alco-free like. Just don’t forget which part is which like I did. I first saw this cake on a sample of pretty vintage wallpaper in a magazine. Then, the tempting textile introduced itself to me again on a visit to Avoca, this time printed on craft paper. I think it is a signal that I should cover the farm kitchen in it….what do you think? Swoonworthy or twee? There are many other beautiful sweet treats featured in the pattern , but the snowy Tipsy Cake first caught my eye and will now forever strike my fancy.

Tipsy cake is classically found in Ireland, the UK, and I have now learned, also eaten in the American South. You will find many iterations of it in books and online, the only common denominator is the use of some form of liquor in which to soak the cake. I personally prefer to think of Tipsy Cake as an ornamental “ball supper cake” as described here. There is also a Mrs. Beeton recipe which calls for sponge cake adorned with thinly sliced almonds and then covered in custard which sounded lovely, but, alas, when I tried to make it I failed miserably. I tested a couple of different versions and decided to splash out and just create my own recipe. Like the wallpaper, my cake is meant to be decoratively covered in icing or cream, this is because you slice it all up, mortar with jam, and bash it back together. I told Geoffrey it was messy {fun} cake anatomy 101 class. He loved it. After that, you allow the spirits to slowly soak into the reconstructed cake. We poured royal icing over ours which is quite good at smoothing edges. Pop some sparklers on top and away you go….

This cake can last for over a week, and if kept under a cloche, improves in flavour with each passing day.

Enjoy.

Imen’s Tipsy Cake

Ingredients

175g/6oz butter, at room temperature

175g/6oz caster sugar

3 free-range eggs

250g/9oz self-raising flour

2-3 tbsp milk

1 lemon, zest only

60ml/4 tbsp apricot or red currant conserve

75ml rum, brandy, whiskey or sherry {optional and to your own taste}

Royal Icing

Pre-heat the oven to 180C/350F/Gas 4. Grease an 18cm/7in round or decorative cake tin, line the base with greaseproof paper and grease the paper. (if decorative tin, spray with nonstick)

Cream the butter and sugar together in a bowl until pale and fluffy. Beat in the eggs, one at a time, beating the mixture well between each one and adding a tablespoon of the flour with the last egg to prevent the mixture curdling.


Sift the flour and gently fold in, with enough milk to give a mixture that falls slowly from the spoon. Fold in the lemon zest. 


Spoon the mixture into the prepared tin and lightly level the top. Bake on the middle shelf of the oven for 40-50 minutes, or until golden-brown on top and a skewer inserted into the centre comes out clean.

Remove from the oven and set aside to cool in the tin for 10 minutes, then turn it out on to a wire rack and leave to cool completely. Cover and leave overnight. 

Slice cake neatly into four equal pieces. Spread a generous amount of apricot or red currant (or jam of your liking) conserve on each slice and bash back together gently. Pour over white or dark rum , brandy, whiskey or sherry and allow to soak in completely. Prepare desired amount of royal icing as directed on package, and pour over the top of the cake. Allow to dry and harden. Decorate with sprinklers or candles, say “hurrah for Tipsy Cake!” and serve. Good morning, noon, or night.

 Slan Abhaile,

Imen

Photos and styling by Imen McDonnell 2012

Tags: Avoca, brandy, country life, farm, farmer, farmette, Farming, food, foodie, foodies, I Married An Irish Farmer, Imen McDonnell, ireland, Irish country living, irish farmer, Irish food photography, irish foodies, madeira cake, married, Married an Irish Farmer, married an irishman, royal icing, rum, sherry, tea, Tipsy cake, whiskey

For the second year in a row we journeyed down to the wood and selected a tree to cut down for Christmas. Last year, it took some persuading as I had a certain urban Amerian-ised vision of what choosing your tree should look like, and it was admittedly a bit less rustic than the cut-your-own version. I have such fond memories of Christmas markets with old-fashioned C7 lights strewn along city blocks lined with beautiful Blue Spruces, long-needled Scots Pines, and families of fantastic Firs; all propped up and waiting patiently to be chosen and taken home to be delicately dressed in decoration.

I have learned my lesson. It is beyond special to cut down your own tree, from your family forest, that was planted (with caring foresight) by your father-in-law years ago. I believe the trees in the wood are Firs. But, it wouldn’t matter if it they were Birch or Yew, it’s all about the wonderful little snapshot of time spent together as a family during the holidays. Our last two trees have to be the best trees I’ve ever had at Christmas.  We will be planting a few more rows in the Springtime to keep the tradition alive.

I decided to make eggnog instead of mulled wine to sip on while trimming the tree this year. Eggnog is a classic holiday tipple that is enjoyed by people in the USA around during the holidays. It is essentially a sweetened dairy-based beverage traditionally made with milk or cream, sugar, and whipped eggs (which gives it a frothy texture). It can be made with or without liquor so it is perfect for both little ones and adults alike. I recall seeing it in a supermarket here in Ireland when I first arrived, but it hasn’t been back on the shelves since.

Luckily {like everything} eggnog is better homemade. And, using fresh milk + cream from the farm to prepare it can’t be beat. For the grown up version, I went with an Irish variation and added a jigger of the super smoky and spectacular Connemara peated single malt whiskey instead of using American bourbon and rum. I also used a drop of Bittercube Bolivar Bitters, (optional) which are very herbal with beautiful cassia and dried fruit notes. The result is the smokiest, most velvety smooth, fruitcake-y festive eggnog.

I decided it would be prudent to include a special recipe for the splendid Snowball cocktail here as well. I was introduced to the Snowball when my lovely friend from Britain brought Advocaat to a dinner party a few years ago and insisted it was eggnog. While it is not the eggnog we are accustomed to in America, it does contain eggs and is very popular holiday spirit in the UK.   The Snowball is a bit like a dreamsicle in flavour; delicious and fun to serve at a holiday cocktail party. Both Advocaat & Connemara Irish Whiskey are available at fine liquor stores in the USA.

Cheers!

Smoky Irish Eggnog

Serves 4-6.

INGREDIENTS

4 egg yolks

1/2 cup sugar (you can use less if preferred, it will still taste lovely)

2 cups milk

2 whole cloves

Pinch of cinnamon

1 cup cream

1 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

2 drops of Bittercube Bolivar Bitters {or similar woodsy, fruity, herbal bitters} (optional)

2-3 Tbsp of Connemara Irish Whiskey {or similar Peat smoked Whiskey or Scotch} (omit for kid-friendly eggnog)

METHOD

In a large bowl, use a whisk or an electric mixer to beat egg yolks until they become lighter in color. Slowly add the sugar, beating after each addition, whisking until fluffy.

Combine the milk, cloves, and cinnamon in a thick-bottomed saucepan. Slowly heat on medium heat until the milk mixture is steamy hot, but not boiling.

Temper the eggs by slowly adding half of the hot milk mixture into the eggs, whisking constantly while you add the hot mixture. Pour the mixture back into the saucepan. {Or, if you are nervous about scrambling, wait 5-10 minutes for milk to cool down a bit and then whisk in the eggs}

Cook on medium heat, stirring constantly with a wooden spoon, until the mixture begins to thicken slightly, and coats the back of the spoon. Do not allow the mixture to boil, or it will curdle. Remove from heat and stir in the cream, vanilla and bitters, if using.  Strain the mixture through a mesh strainer to remove the cloves. Let cool for one hour.

Mix in nutmeg and whiskey. Chill. 

Sip by the fire. 

The Snowball

1 jigger of Advocaat

1 jigger of fizzy lemonade (sweet-n-sour or sprite would work too)

1 jigger of fresh lime juice

Mix + Sip

Slan Abhaile,

Imen

Photos and Styling by Imen McDonnell 2012

Tags: Advocaat, Bittercube Bitters, christmas, Connemare Irish Whiskey, country life, eggnog, farm, farmer, farmette, Farming, festive, food, foodie, foodies, holiday, I Married An Irish Farmer, Imen McDonnell, ireland, Irish, Irish country living, irish farmer, irish food, Irish food photography, irish foodies, Married an Irish Farmer, married an irishman, Snowball, Tree

In a pickle. (idiom): experiencing a difficult situation

You could say that I was faced with a difficult *kitchen* situation this weekend. I was planning to use up some of the last harvest veg from the garden and could not decide if I should go with preparing a sweet pickle spread, a tangy piccalilli relish or our family sauerkraut recipe. I eased ahead with some sauerkraut (uncle Jim would be proud), but then it was still a toss up between the two pickles. It was little bit like deciding what to wear to the farm on a daily basis. Do I go for the sweet and wholesome country look, stir it up a bit with something more spicy, or do I go for the old standby traditional? Oops. I keep forgetting. It really doesn’t matter what you wear to the farm as long as it’s functional and waterproof.

But, I digress. Pickles. I have always had an affinity for pickles. Sweet and sour. Bread and butter. Neon green Chicago dog relish. Dill. Jumbo. Kosher. Miniature. But, never, ever came across the marvelous, plain and simple “pickle” until moving to Ireland.

You see, they mean something different by “pickles” here. Pickles are not necessarily the cucumber-y gherkin-y pickle that we are used to in America. No, no, no. Think malty, cider vinegary, zesty, sweet, savoury, spicy, chunky, cloyingly tangy. Often there are no cucumbers involved at all. Pickle can be a gorgeous sandwich spread. A Ploughman’s lunch. Or, better yet, a piccalli on a grilled dog. The only thing that could make piccalilli on a charred sausage better is if it was blanketed on a Wisconsin bratwurst. These pickle recipes came to Ireland via the UK, but Britain borrowed them from India. Whatever way you look at it, piccalilli is true {fermented} perfection in a jar.

While both pickle and piccalilli are positively divine, I had to choose only one, so I went with piccalilli. Piccalilli is essentially crispy vegetables pickled with vibrant and aromatic Indian spices in a velvety sauce. My first taste of piccalilli was so exciting that I wanted to tell the world “Extra, extra, read all about it!” style.  I now can’t imagine life pre-piccalilli.

If you’re in a pickle {or even if you’re not}, make yourself some pickle.

Here’s the recipe:

Farmhouse Pickle (lilli)

Makes 6 x 340g (12oz)jars

Select, wash, peel  2kg (2.5lbs) of 5-6 of the following vegetables: cauliflower, swede, asparagus, radish, green beans, cucumbers, courgettes, green or yellow tomatoes, carrots, small pickling onions or shallots, peppers

100g (1/2 cup) fine sea salt

60g (1/2 cup) cornflour

2 tbsp ground turmeric

2 tbsp English mustard powder

2 tbsp ground ginger

1 tbsp caraway seeds

2 tsp cumin seeds

2 tsp coriander seeds

1.2 litres white or cider vinegar

300g (2.5 cups) granulated sugar

100g (1/2 cup) honey

1. Cut the vegetables into small, bite-sized pieces. Place in a large colander over a bowl and sprinkle with the salt. Mix well, cover with a tea towel and leave in a cool place for 24 hours, then rinse with ice-cold water and drain thoroughly.

2. Blend the cornflour, turmeric, mustard powder, ginger, caraway, cumin and coriander into a smooth paste with a little of the vinegar. Put the rest of the vinegar into a saucepan with the sugar and honey and bring to the boil. Pour a little of the hot vinegar over the blended spice paste, stir well and return to the pan. Bring gently to the boil. Boil for 3-4 minutes to allow the spices to release their flavours into the thickening sauce.

3. Remove the pan from the heat and carefully fold the well-drained vegetables into the hot, spicy sauce. Pack the pickle into warm, sterilised jars and seal immediately with vinegar-proof lids. Leave for about 6 weeks before opening. Use within a year.

Slan Abhaile,

Imen

PS.  {farmette} has just made the esteemed “Sites We Love” by Saveur magazine! Obviously, I peed my pants when I heard.  Have a look at the profile, and also take a peek at the others listed……just make sure you have some extra time because there are many brilliant blogs to enjoy!

Photos and styling by Imen McDonnell 2012

Tags: American, country life, farm, farmer, Farmhouse, Farming, food, foodie, gardening, I Married An Irish Farmer, Imen McDonnell, ireland, Irish country living, irish farmer, irish food, Irish food photography, irish foodies, Married an Irish Farmer, married an irishman, piccalilli, pickle, ploughmans lunch, vegetable

Last weekend Geoffrey and I picked all of the apples and pears at our little farm orchard. All I could think about was apple dumplings. Some people have visions of sugar plums. I dream of apple dumplings.  Apple dumplings are pastry wrapped baked apples. They are perfect for using up apples that don’t shine up all prim and purty…which was basically nearly all of ours this year.

I suppose it is fairly safe to say that cooking has officially consumed me. I am sure this has come as quite a shock to those who knew me B.F. (before farm)…aka, the incessant diner-outer who was better known for raiding craft services tables on production than crafting her own cider.  I categorically cherished good food; as long as someone else was preparing it. This evolution has been most surprising to me, but as I’ve come to realize, knowing how to cook and bake is absolutely essential to farm living. There is really no other option. We simply do not have the convenience of time or location to eat outside of our kitchen on a regular basis  ever. What we have is the space and potential to grow and prepare most of our own food. And so, this is what we endeavour to do. {However, a dirty dinner at The Spotted Pig wouldn’t go astray}

Still, there can be clashes in the kitchen. For instance, pastry is persnickety. Dough in general. There is a science to it. When you do it right, it can be very rewarding. But, sometimes that reward doesn’t come as often as I’d like. Generally, there are only three ingredients. It should be easy. Though mostly it’s not. The pastry I used for these apple dumplings is the same one my mother-in-law uses for her apple tart. There is egg in it. If the temperature isn’t right, it falls apart and you stand there weeping into it. (alternatively, you can scream and bang the rolling pin onto countertop until dough flies everywhere. Satisfying, but cows will think you are crazy + there’s more mess to clean up)  It is imperative that you turn the disc of pastry round and round while you are rolling it or the edges crack and badda-bing, you’re done. One day, I shall master pastry….like the little blue choo that could….maybe it will be that chicken pot pie or perhaps a daring mille-feuille, but I will get there, promise.

Peggy’s buttery sweet pastry is perfection baked around an apple sprinkled with some autumn spices. It’s well worth the meltdown effort. And, having fresh honey and milk on hand to churn scoops of beautiful burnt honey ice cream doesn’t hurt either…

Irish Apple Dumplings

Peggy’s pastry

Juice from one lemon

6 medium cooking apples (Bramley’s work well)

55g or 1/4 cup packed brown sugar

50g or 1/4 cup granulated sugar

1 tsp ground cinnamon

1 tsp nutmeg

1 tsp cloves

Pinch kosher salt

30g or 2 tbsp unsalted butter, cut into 6 pieces

Turn out the dough onto a well-floured surface and roll into a large rectangle or square, about 1/8-inch thick.

Cut a piece of parchment paper into a 6-inch square. Using the parchment paper as a guide, cut out 6 total squares from the dough, gathering scraps and re-rolling as needed. Layer the dough on pieces of parchment paper and refrigerate while preparing the apples.

Preheat the oven to 230c/450f°.

Add the lemon juice to a bowl of ice water. Peel and core each apple and place in the lemon water to prevent browning.

To make the filling, combine the brown sugar, granulated sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, and salt in a small bowl. Sprinkle the bottom of a square of dough with sugar mixture. Place an apple in the center of dough. Put one pat of butter in the core of the apple and sprinkle additional sugar mixture inside. Bring the four corners of dough up around the apple, pinching the edges to seal and folding over excess if necessary. Continue with all of the apples.

Arrange the apple dumplings in a baking dish, leaving about 1-inch of space between each apple. Bake until the crust begins to turn golden brown, about 40 minutes.

Burnt Honey Ice Cream

125ml or ½ cup honey

1 tsp cinnamon

500ml or 2 cups milk

250ml or 1 cup double (heavy) cream

Cook honey and cinnamon in a heavy-based saucepan over medium heat for 5 minutes or until dark coloured and smoking. Add 2 tbsp cold water and remove from heat immediately.

Heat milk and cream in a separate saucepan and bring almost to the boil. Gradually whisk in burnt honey + cinnamon and stir over low heat until mixture is combined. Do not boil. Remove from heat, pour into a bowl and cool (overnight in refrigerator is ideal). Freeze mixture in an ice-cream machine and then place in freezer for 2-3 hours before serving. 

Happy Autumn.

Slan Abhaile,

Imen

Photos by Imen McDonnell 2012

Tags: American, apple dumping, apples. autumn, burnt honey ice cream, country life, dairy, Fall baking, farm, farmer, farmette, Farming, food, foodie, foodies, harvest, honey, I Married An Irish Farmer, Imen McDonnell, ireland, Irish, Irish Apple Tart, Irish country living, irish food, Irish food photography, irish foodies, love, married a farmer, married an irishman, milk, orchard

I’m going straight to food hell. I think I may have just Irish-ised the S’more. Well, not officially, but when you tally up all the tweaks and titches I’ve tainted applied to the original All-American S’more ingredients along with the added Irish country “h” to make it a Sh’more, it’s pretty damned close. Save me.

A few things mashed up at the same time for me to arrive at the intersection of Ireland + S’more street. Firstly, I was driving Geoffrey to school one morning when he asked, “Mommy, can we have sh-teak for supper tonite?” I immediately pulled the car over to the side of the road where we had a calm little chat. I asked him to repeat what he had said. He repeated, “Mom, can we pleeeaaase have sh-tttteak tonite?”

I swallowed hard.

It was inevitable. He is acquiring that auld’ countryside colliquialism, common in the southwest and west of Ireland whereby the addition of ‘h’ can heard in the dialect. I saw it coming, and we’ve already been painstakingly practicing our lispy th’s, trying to avoid ‘tree’ for three or ‘turd’ for third, etcetera etcetera. And, I am well used to the dropping of the tt’s, as in li–le (little) or bu–on (button). But, now we have sh-teak. There are so many trees and turds and I don’t know if I can keep up. I know it’s part and parcel, but I refuse to  submit to the sht-eak.

Fast forward five days. I am asked by Irish food writer + advocate, Aoife Carrigy, to participate in her For Food’s Sake event at the Dingle Food Festival(if you haven’t been, book in for next year-accommodations go fast!). Basically, she invited a slew of food journalists, artisans, butchers and bloggers to meet her on the top of a big blue bus in the centre town and discuss food memories. Ummmmm, how fun is that?

After much deliberation, I chose to share a toothsome childhood treat which is near and dear to my heart: S’mores. 

Or as my son calls them, Sh’mores.

Geoffrey and I spent a day preparing tasty biscuit, chocolate and marshmallow bites to share with the audience. I even baked homemade graham crackers for the occasion. {okay, so I didn’t have a choice in that matter.} We decided to stage a mad campfire scene in which Geoffrey would sit holding a marshmallow on a twig and pretend to roast it while Woody Guthrie’s This Land Is Your Land played gallantly in the background. Kitschy and camp, but that scene sums up my memory of being 7 at Camp Tapawingo on a summer’s night, making s’mores over a blazing fire and singing songs with a group of fellow kiddy campers.

So,

1 colliquialism

1 food memory

2 homemade wholemeal graham crackers {using Dunany Irish wholemeal flour}

1 bar of Irish sea salt dark chocolate

1 American Jet-Puff marshmallow from a bag smuggled overseas in a suitcase or Marshmallow Fluff from Fallon & Byrne

1 “H”

Oh, and just for good {devilish} measure-

1 tsp of crumbled crispy streaky Irish bacon rashers

=

The Sh’More

Here’s how to do it!

Mini Sh’mores Tarts

(Makes 18-3″ fluted tarts (or 1 9″ tart)

1 cup graham cracker crumbs (I used this recipe with Irish Dunany Fine Wholemeal Flour)


2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted


2 tablespoons organic white sugar


150g dark chocolate, chopped (I used Cocoa Bean Co Dark Choc Sea Salt)

6 streaky, crispy bacon rashers (I use M&S crispy, streaky Irish bacon rashers) *optional

18 large marshmallows, 18 spoonfuls of marshmallow fluff or 3-4 mini marshmallows per tart

Instructions:

Melt butter and set aside.

In the bowl of a food processor fitted with the metal blade, pulse the graham crackers and sugar.  When mixture resembles coarse sand, add melted butter.


Press mixture into individual fluted tart tins, miniature muffin pan or 9in tart tin (spray with a bit of cooking spray).


Bake in preheated 350/180c* oven for 8-10 minutes. Set aside to cool.

Place chopped chocolate in a glass bowl set over a pan of simmering water. When completely melted take off the pan and set aside to cool slightly

Cook bacon until crisp. Place onto plate with kitchen paper to absorb grease and set aside. When cool, crumble finely. 

Assembly:


Spoon 1 teaspoon of bacon crumbles into pre-baked crusts.


Spoon 2-3 teaspoons of melted dark chocolate on top of bacon crumbles.

Top with large or small marshmallows or a large spoonful of marshmallow fluff.

Place under hot grill (or under broiler) to melt the top of marshmallow (do not turn your back even for a minute, it can burn fast!) Alternatively you can torch the marshmallows.

Top with a bit of leftover bacon crumbles


Will keep in fridge for 3 days but best eaten straight away.

Slan Abhaile,

Imen

Tags: American, bacon s'mores, country life, farm, farmer, farmette, Farming, foodie, I Married An Irish Farmer, Imen McDonnell, ireland, Irish country living, Irish food photography, irish foodies, Married an Irish Farmer, married an irishman, mini s'mores, s'mores, s'mores tarts, sh'mores

Batten down the hatches, it’s chocolate cake time again. Well, Smoked {Dark Chocolate} Porter Cake. So, yes, things are gonna get serious around here. Pour yourself a large glass of milk (either that, or just fast forward to the recipes at the end)

This week, Rosemary McCabe, an Irish fashion journalist that I respect, made a curious remark via social media: “Okay, so I still READ I Married an Irish Farmer, but I wish it wasn’t about how a woman gave up her career for a man. ‪#sonotcool”

Now, you might think I was offended. Or, you might think, why bother addressing it?  I wasn’t offended, the thing is, I can see her point. I wouldn’t give up my career for just any ole’ man either. I don’t really see it that way.

Rosemary isn’t the first person to spark up motivation for this post. I have had more than one email containing the unusual question: “Is love enough to marry a farmer?” or something similar. The question comes from women who have busy careers/lives, perhaps in a city, who have no inclination to become a farmer (yet), or to move to the countryside, but who are in a loving relationship with someone who farms. It’s a fair question.

For some time I have wanted to write a post about the nitty-gritty of how I got here. I’ve shared a little bit about how Richard and I met,there’s even a little interview with him, there’s the “when and why” I started this blog, along with various bits and bobs about the farm. But mostly, the blog has become about food. Food, glorious food.

I love my husband (and, still think he’s H.O.T. which is what realllly matters after 8+ years right?) and what we have created together. I’m not going anywhere. Some days my life can seem like a dream come true, others not so much. Admittedly, my biggest challenge since moving to Ireland has been rebuilding a creative career. Love is magnificent, but it is not enough ( for me, and wouldn’t be for my husband either if tables were turned). Work is too meaningful. I prefer to earn my own income. It is crucial for me to doing something creative which is valued besides being a wife + mother. Plus, I can’t really sit still or quiet for long periods of time, so I don’t really have a choice in the matter.

When I made the decision to move to Ireland to be with Richard, I fully intended to keep my job and work from Ireland. I didn’t plan on having to start over from scratch. As much as I respect farming, I didn’t plan on becoming a farmer myself. We were two people in love who had to make a choice. We simply knew that he couldn’t “relocate” his farm, and I thought my work was more flexible. I had been mostly working on overseas productions and things were becoming pretty virtual at the time so it seemed like a go. I was young and precocious and must have thought I was invaluable. In the end, that didn’t work out. Still, I believed I would be able to get freelance production work in Ireland on a somewhat steady basis once I was settled in. That started out fairly good, I found work on the production of a popular Irish television series, which happened to be shooting in the countryside near us. When that was finished, I searched for work with agencies in Dublin and Cork to no avail. If they were going to hire anyone, it seemed would be someone local or at least more mobile or Irish than I at the time. {Richard tells me I’ve “become more Irish than the Irish themselves” so perhaps I should call on them again?}

After I had a baby, I became a full-time mommy and it seemed like all serious career bets were off. I could barely manage to get a shower in when Geoffrey was an infant. He was born nearly 8 weeks premature and had some health issues. Thankfully, not serious health issues, but made for difficulty in feeding and nutrition. If you are a mother of a child who is not a “good grubber”, you know that you would die trying to make sure your child is fed.  Richard left at 6AM and didn’t return until late in the evening. I was alone with Geoffrey most of the time and didn’t have a clue as to what I was doing. I relied heavily on emails, phone calls, books and internet message boards submitting questions as banal as “what if the poo doesn’t smell?”

Since I didn’t have the security of a job anymore, I had to procure a new set of skills, including, but not limited to DIY’ing my own half-n-half. So, just when I thought my abilities were completely irrelevant here, I turned to food. At first, I started eating digestive biscuits and Hob Nobs by the packet, which wasn’t really helping matters. Then, I discovered that I could actually cook, bake and make butter and that by doing so, I could make new friends and not feel so isolated. I also discovered that I could write, which was, in fact, therapeutic, and also garnered me a job. I took small bits that I learned while producing food commercials and started styling and photographing food for this blog and also for an Irish cookery book. We’ve now turned a bright, unfinished room in our house into a little studio so that I can take on more clients if am called upon to do so. The best part is that I am bringing it full circle and have produced and directed a film on Irish food and farming that I hope will be the start of even more opportunities….and, at the risk of going all Oprah, perhaps this leap will have created ‘My Best Life’ yet?

Now, about that cake.

Porter cake is a tradition in Ireland that started when it occurred to someone that a porter would make a lovely addition to the dark, robust flavour of the popular fruit cake. Since we aren’t crazy for the fruity part of Irish fruit cakes in this house, I kept the mixed spice, but left out the fruit and added some dark, dark chocolate.  The end result is a rich, velvety, smoky chocolate cake that evenly carries the porter flavour throughout. I iced it in chocolate espresso buttercream, but to be honest, it doesn’t even need frosting, especially if you are serving it with a scoop of ice cream or a dollop of fresh cream.

Of course, you can use any porter or stout for the recipe. I used a sneaky bottle of gorgeous and ultra smoky porter that I brought back from America, which was home-brewed by Derek Sanderson in the beer mecca of Milwaukee, WI. I bet Knockmealdown Porter would be amazing. Also, a chocolate stout would be super.

To go with the cake, I decided to make malted barley ice cream, which has a lovely malted flavour (think super vanilla malted milkshake), and pairs supremely with the smoky, porter-y, chocolate-y cake. I bought the roasted, malted barley from a home-brew shop and steeped the grains in the custard before straining, adding a scoop of malted milk powder and churning.

Enough with all the seriousness already, have a slice of chocolate cake.

I am!

Smoky {Dark Chocolate} Porter Cake

3 ounces/85g high quality unsweetened dark chocolate, chopped

2 1/4 cups/280g all purpose flour

2 teaspoons baking powder

1 tsp mixed spice (pumpkin spice works the same)

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

1/2 teaspoon salt

14 tablespoons (1 3/4 sticks) salted butter, room temperature

1 1/4 cups/250g plus 3 tablespoons sugar

3 large eggs, separated

1 1/4 cup/350ml extra smoky porter, (or regular or chocolate stout)

Position rack in center of oven and preheat to 350°F/170C. Butter and flour two 9-inch-diameter cake pans with 1 1/2-inch-high sides or 4 mini cake pans like I did. Line bottom of each cake pan with parchment paper round; butter and flour parchment.

Put chopped chocolate, butter and beer in medium metal bowl. Set bowl over saucepan of barely simmering water and stir until the mixture is melted and smooth. (smells wonderful) Remove bowl from over water and set aside.

Whisk 11/4 cups (250g) sugar, flour, baking powder, mixed spice, baking soda, and salt in medium bowl to blend. Add egg yolks 1 at a time to (lukewarm) melted chocolate, butter, beer mixture beating until well blended after each addition. Beat flour mixture into chocolate mixture in 2 additions just until incorporated.

Using clean dry beaters, beat egg whites and remaining 3 tablespoons sugar in another medium bowl until stiff but not dry. Fold 1/3 of egg whites into cake batter to lighten, then fold in remaining egg whites in 2 additions.

Divide batter between prepared cake pans (about 3 cups for each); smooth tops.

Bake cakes until tester inserted into centers comes out clean, about 30 minutes. Transfer cakes to racks and cool in pans 20 minutes. Invert cakes onto racks; remove parchment paper and cool completely.

Dark Chocolate Espresso Buttercream

4oz/114g high quality unsweetened dark chocolate, chopped

2 teaspoons instant espresso powder

3 tablespoons milk

1 cup (2 sticks)/227g butter, softened

1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

1/8 teaspoon salt

4 cups/500g powdered sugar

Place chocolate in medium metal bowl. Set bowl over saucepan of barely simmering water and stir until melted and smooth. Dissolve instant coffee in milk in glass measure. Beat butter, vanilla extract and salt in large mixing bowl for 3 minutes. Beat in melted chocolate until blended, scraping occasionally. Gradually beat in powdered sugar until light and fluffy. Beat in coffee mixture, 1 tablespoon at a time, until desired spreading consistency.

Malted Barley Ice Cream

2 cups/475ml double cream

1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract

2/3 cup (90 g) malt powder

½ cup/100g roasted malted barley grains

1 cup/240ml whole milk

3/4 cup (150 g) sugar

pinch of salt

6 large egg yolks

Whisk the cream, vanilla and malt powder in a large heatproof bowl and set a mesh strainer over the bowl.  Combine the whole milk, sugar and salt in a medium saucepan and heat just until warm.

Meanwhile, whisk the egg yolks in a bowl. Slowly add the warm milk mixture to the egg yolks, whisking constantly. Pour back into the saucepan and set over medium heat. Stir constantly until the mixture thickens enough to create a custard that coats the back of a wooden spoon. Pour through the strainer into the malt powder mixture and stir to combine. Add the roasted barley grains and let steep for 30 minutes. Strain again.

Cover and refrigerate until thoroughly chilled (overnight is best). Freeze in your ice cream maker according to the manufacturer’s instructions.

Slan Abhaile,

Imen

Photos and styling by Imen McDonnell 2012

Tags: beer, farm, farmer, Farming, food, I Married An Irish Farmer, Imen McDonnell, Irish country living, irish farmer, Irish food photography, irish foodies, Irish Times, Kilcolman, malted barley ice cream, malted milk ice cream, married, married a farmer, Married an Irish Farmer, married an irishman, Porter cake, rosemary macabre, Smoked porter

I made a cherry tart for the first time in my life today. Not just any ordinary cherry tart, a cheery cherry tart made with Irish grown cherries. Cheery because it’s been raining here for weeks and we needed a little cheering up.  So, for the record, I will confirm that a corner of cherry tart with a scoop of homemade buttermilk ice cream certainly brought a snippet of sunshine to our day.

Now, many of you might not think baking a cherry pie or tart is such an extraordinary accomplishment, but I can assure you that finding Irish cherries to make such a tart is no small feat. Sure, you can go to your supermarket and buy cherries from all corners of the earth at this time of year, but you’ll never see “COUNTRY OF ORIGIN: IRELAND” labeled on a package unless you are at farmer’s market, and even then, it is very rare. In fact, until the surprising opportunity arose in which to pick cherries in our area, I was ready to fill up the car with diesel and drive all the way to Temple Bar in Dublin very early on a Saturday morning to score a punnet or two from David Llewelyn. So, bearing that in mind, this is one damned special cherry tart.

I don’t know about you, but I have some fantastic food memories from my childhood that I just can’t shake. They have become seasonal expectations, and no matter where I am in the world, these remarkable bits of nostalgia creep into my consciousness, take me back to a footloose and fancy-free American youth, and then proceed to create criminal cravings.

Summer cherries happen to be one of those cravings. Every summer I’ll find myself longing for cherries, and not just the cherries, but the cherry picking. (others bits of nostalgia might be sugar snap pea pickin-n-nibblin chain gang style at the local pick-your-own veg farm, or Sunday country drives with my dad in search of secret wild asparagus). Despite having lived in Minneapolis, L.A. and NYC, I grew up on Lake Michigan within a stone’s throw from Door County, aka, Cherry Country. Each summer, everything from cherry pie to cherry wine, cherry jam, salsa or sausage was suddenly on offer in boutique stores to bait shops. On our visit last year, we made a special trip to Fish Creek to sample Good Morning America’s Best Breakfast in the USA, White Gull Inn’s Cherry Stuffed French Toast. It was perfection on a plate.

Last week, myself, and the two farmers graciously accepted an invitation to pick cherries and other fruits at the estate of a new friend and colleague who is passionate about the business of supporting the growing and sustaining of local food in Ireland. (Stay tuned to learn more about his special program, as I will be sharing more about this exciting initiative in the months to come.)

We arrived at Attyflin on a cool, wet evening and were warmly greeted by our lovely host, his two Irish Red Setters and a charming little terrier who guided us into an 18^th century walled garden. Once through the gate, I took a moment to observe the impeccably organised two acres or so of space impressively filled with thriving vegetables, fruits and herbs. I had no idea what to expect outside of a few cherry trees when we arrived, and what was before my eyes was nothing short of breathtaking. I reckon that what lies between those walls must be on par with the Lissadel House gardens, which I never had a chance to visit before it was closed to the public.

As we walked around, we were introduced to fig trees, peaches, plums and apple trees, loganberry, blackberry, raspberry canes, black and red currants, blueberries, and last but not least, two different varieties of cherry trees which were covered in netting and growing on the wall. I suspect the protection from both weather and birds was instrumental in bearing such beautiful fruit.

We picked cherries and some other berries, went into the family home for a cup of tea and chat before heading back to the farm for the night. On the drive home, Geoffrey instantly fell asleep while we marveled in gratitude and awe over what we had just encountered. For the next two days, I pondered what to make with our cherry/berry bounty. It was a special evening to remember.

Irish Cherry-Rosemary Tart

(adapted from The Joy of Baking)

For the Pate Brisee (Short Crust Pastry)

2 1/2 cups(350g) all-purpose/cream flour

1 teaspoon salt

2 tablespoon (30g) granulated or caster white sugar

1 cup (227g) unsalted butter, chilled, and cut into 1 inch (2.5 cm) pieces

1/4 to 1/2 cup (60 – 120ml) ice water

For the Cherry Filling

4 cups (960 ml) pitted, sweet or tart fresh cherries (can use 4 cups (960 ml) sweet or tart canned or bottled cherries, drained with 1/3 cup (80 ml) cherry juice reserved)

3/4 cup (150g) granulated white sugar, or as needed

2 1/2 tablespoons (30g) Cornstarch/Cornflour

1/8 teaspoon salt

1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice

1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

2-3 fresh rosemary sprigs

2 tablespoons (25 grams) unsalted butter, cut in small pieces

For the Glaze

2 tablespoons cream

Granulated white sugar

In a food processor, place the flour, salt, and sugar and process until combined. Add the butter and process until the mixture resembles coarse meal (about 15 seconds). Pour 1/4 cup (60 ml) water in a slow, steady stream, through the feed tube until the dough just holds together when pinched. If necessary, add more water. Do not process more than 30 seconds.

Turn the dough onto your work surface and gather into a ball. Divide the dough in half, flattening each half into a disk, cover with plastic wrap, and refrigerate for about one hour before using. This will chill the butter and relax the gluten in the flour.

After the dough has chilled sufficiently, remove one portion of the dough from the fridge and place it on a lightly floured surface. Roll the pastry into a 12inch (30cm) rectangle. Fold the dough in half and gently transfer to the rectangular tart pan. Brush off any excess flour and tuck the overhanging pastry under itself, crimping as desired. Refrigerate the pastry, covered with plastic wrap, while you roll out the remaining pastry and make the cherry filling.

Meanwhile, remove the second round of pastry and roll it into another rectangle. Using a crimped pastry cutter, cut strips of pastry for lattice top. Place the strips on a parchment paper-lined baking sheet, cover with plastic wrap, and place in the refrigerator.

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees F (205 degrees C) and place the oven rack in the lower third of the oven.

Place the cherries in a large bowl. Add the sugar, cornstarch, salt, lemon juice, vanilla extract, rosemary sprigs, and gently toss to combine. (If using canned cherries also add the 1/3 cup (80 ml) reserved cherry juice.) Let sit for about 10-15 minutes and then pour the mixture into the prepared tart case and dot with the 2 tablespoons (25 grams) of butter. Lightly brush the rim of the pastry case with the egg wash. Weave the pastry lattice tip and brush the entire surface with the cream. Sprinkle with a little granulated white sugar.

Place the tart on a larger baking pan, lined with parchment paper, to catch any spills. Bake the tart for about 15 minutes and then reduce the oven temperature to 350 degrees F (177 degrees C). Continue to bake the tart for about 25 – 35 minutes or until the crust is a deep golden brown color and the cherry juices are starting to bubble. If the edges of the tart are browning too much during baking, cover with a foil ring.

Place the baked tart on a wire rack to cool for several hours.  Serve at room temperature with buttermilk ice cream in a jar like my friend Shaina would do! Store any leftovers for 2 – 3 days at room temperature.

Buttermilk Ice Cream

6 egg yolks

¾ cup (150g) sugar

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 ½ cups (375ml) heavy(double)cream

1 vanilla bean

1 1/4 cups (325ml) buttermilk

1/2 teaspoon lemon zest

Heavy pinch of salt

Whisk together the yolks, ½ cup (100g) sugar and vanilla extract until the mixture is pale and holds a ribbon.

In a saucepan, bring the cream and ¼ cup (50g) sugar to a simmer with vanilla bean; remove from heat and allow to steep for 15 minutes. Split and scrape beans; return seeds to cream.

While whisking, slowly pour the hot cream into the yolk mixture, then return the mixture back to the pot. Cook over medium heat until it coats the back of a wooden spoon, 2-3 minutes. Remove from heat and allow to cool briefly before whisking in the buttermilk, lemon zest and salt.

Chill completely and churn in an ice-cream maker. Makes 2 pints.

Slan Abhaile,

Imen

Photos & Styling by Imen McDonnell 2012

Tags: buttermilk ice cream, cherry pie, cherry tart, DOor County, farm, farmer, Farming, foodie, foodies, Good Morning America, I Married An Irish Farmer, Imen McDonnell, Irish, Irish country living, Irish food photography, irish foodies, loganberry, love, marrying an irish man, pie a day

3 Milks
+
Cake
=
Heaven

I have been burning to make this beguiling cake of three milks for some time, and when Lily Rameriz-Foran, another food loving expat living and blogging in Ireland, opened her long-awaited online Mexican food market it seemed like the perfect excuse opportunity to get an authentic recipe to make a Tres Leches cake at last.  We are colossal lovers of Mexican food in this house, and until now finding ingredients such as chipotle peppers, masa or authentic tortillas had been nearly impossible to source where we are located in the west of Ireland.

Lily was kind enough to share her special family recipe for Tres Leches cake with me. This dense and creamy dairy cake is made using three different milks. I knew that I wanted to try and use all three milks fresh from the farm, including the evaporated and condensed milk, so after doing some clandestine research, I learned how I could prepare each from scratch.

Turns out, while it does take a fair bit of time, both milks are very simple to make and the flavour is far superior to any version of the same in a tin with a supermarket shelf life of six months or more.

Interestingly, I found that the preparation for this cake is actually very similar to angel food cake, except the recipe includes the egg yolks as well. It is important to sift the flour at least three times and keep everything really airy throughout the mixing process. I have enjoyed Tres Leches cake in restaurants, but the combination of Lily’s recipe and the fresh milks have resulting in a cake that would be dangerously easy for me to tuck into every day.

If you have children, this is fun to make with the smallies as it involves poking holes in the cake with a toothpick, a skill that kids have heaps of fun doing.

I encouraged our little farmer to assist me in everything from manning the mixer to the pricking, and finally, pouring the tres leches over the cake. Let’s just say, he is very proud of “his milk cake”

Creamy, dreamy…….heavenly cake, especially on a summer day!

Lily’s Tres Leches Cake

Ingredients:

For the cake:

2 cups/240g of all-purpose flour

2 teaspoons of baking powder

1 cup/200g of caster sugar 8 eggs (separated)

1/3 cup/80ml of full fat milk

For the Tres Leches Mix:

1 12 oz/354ml condensed milk

1 12 oz/354ml of evaporated milk

1 cup/225 ml of double cream

1 tsp of pure vanilla extract

1 tsp of Rompope or Tia Maria or Brandy ( I left the booze out in order to be kid-friendly this time)

For the Icing:

3 egg whites

1 cup/200g of caster sugar

3 tablespoons of golden syrup

1⁄4/60ml cup of water

For the Cake:

Preheat the oven at 200c/400f degrees and grease a springform cake tin, I use a round 20 cm one, but you might want your cake taller or square. Sieve the flour and baking powder 3 times (yes, 3 times! It’s important) and set aside.

Using an electric mixer, beat the egg whites until they form stiff peaks. Gradually add the sugar while still beating. Then follow with the egg yolks one at a time and beating well between additions. When the last yolk has been mixed well, put the electric mixer away and using a hand whisk, fold the flour & baking powder mix in three goes. Finish off by adding the milk again using a folding motion to keep the cake light and airy. Pour the mixture into the prepared tin and bake in the oven for 30 to 35 minutes or until a toothpick comes out clean. While the cake is in the oven, get on with making the Tres Leches Mix.

For the Tres Leches Mix:

Put all ingredients in the blender or food processor and blend them together. Pour them into a jug and set aside.

When the cake is cooked, take it out of the oven and using a toothpick or a thin skewer, prick the entire cake. Make loads of holes as they will be used to soak the cake with the tres leches mix. Once the cake has been pricked, take it out of the tin. Place the cake in a cake plate or tray with a bit of a lip as there will be liquid running through it.

Once the cake is in the correct plate and while it is still hot, pour the Tres Leches mixture slowly through the whole of the cake, making sure you’re gentle and that all the little holes you made earlier get saturated with this milky mixture. It is very important that the pouring of the milk is done while the cake is still hot as otherwise the cake will just go soggy. There’s a lot of milk mixture, so don’t worry about it, just pour it gently and try to cover the cake all over and down the edges. You can now leave the cake to cool completely and store it in the fridge until you’re ready to ice it.

For the Icing:

If you have a free standing electric mixer, use it to beat the egg whites until they form soft peaks and leave them ready. In a small, deep pot, put the sugar, water and honey and heat them till they start to boil. As soon as this happens, take them out of the heat and start the mixer on the egg whites again. Slowly, very slowly, pour the hot ‘honey’ you’ve just taken from the heat. Do it very gently and keep the mixer working on high speed until all the liquid has been incorporated to the whites. Switch off the mixer and get ready for icing!

Take the cake out of the fridge and cover it with the icing. Top it up with some chopped pecan nuts, fresh strawberries or a cherry. You can also drizzle some ‘cajeta’ on top of the icing (I sell it in the shop and it is dulce de leche made of goats milk) to turn your cake from 3 to 4 leches!

Farm Fresh Homemade Sweetened Condensed Milk

1 liter whole milk from your farm or local dairy (store bought is fine too)

1 cup granulated sugar (can also use brown or raw sugar)

1 tablespoon butter (optional – to thicken the milk)

In a heavy-bottomed pot, bring the milk and the sugar to a boil over medium heat.

Reduce the heat to low and simmer very gently for about two hours until the volume is reduced by half. The mixture should be barely simmering and never bubbling at any point. Stir every 15 minutes or so to keep the milk from burning on the bottom.

After 2 hours, stir in butter (optional)

Remove the pot from heat and let the milk cool. The mixture will thicken further after it has cooled.

Will keep in refrigerator for 2 weeks or more.

(This milk is perfect (no butter version) for making Vietnamese iced coffee too!)

Farm Fresh Homemade Evaporated Milk

2 litres whole milk from your farm or local dairy (from the store is fine as well)

In a heavy-bottomed pot, bring the milk to a boil over medium heat.

Reduce the heat to low and simmer very gently for about two hours until the volume is reduced by 60%. The milk should be barely simmering and never bubbling at any point. Stir every 15 minutes or so to keep the milk from burning on the bottom.

Remove the pot from heat and let the milk cool. The milk will thicken further after it has cooled.

Will keep in refrigerator for 2 weeks or more.

I hope you enjoy this cake as much as we do! Thanks again Lily! xx

Slan Abhaile,

Imen

Photos and styling by Imen McDonnell and Geoffrey McDonnell 2012

Tags: farm, farmer, Farming, food, foodie, foodies, homemade condensed milk, homemade evaporated milk, I Married An Irish Farmer, Imen McDonnell, ireland, Irish, Irish country living, irish farmer, Irish food photography, irish foodies, Lily Ramirez-Foran, Married an Irish Farmer, Marrying an Irishman, Mexican Cook in Eire, mexican food, tres leches

Breathtaking.

I’m back at the farm after an incredible 10 days of touring Ireland,

meeting passionate artisan food producers,

and local food enthusiasts.

Sharing products,

skills,

traditions,

memories,

and hopes for the future,

in front of our Food Island camera.

Now, it’s time to spend some time

having a look at all the beautiful + inspiring footage

and choose & deliver selects

to an amazing editor and friend

who will work her storytelling magic.

Oh, and since it’s haymaking season,

we’ve decided to treat ourselves to fresh hay ice cream while we work!

{blogpost soon}

Slan Abhaile,

Imen

Photo by Imen McDonnell, taken at Ben Bulben, County Sligo

Tags: American, farm, Farming, food island, I Married An Irish Farmer, Imen McDonnell, Irish country living, irish farmer, irish foodies