Today is St. Patrick’s Day, actually one of my favorite celebratory days because of the food and drink associated with it.
Mostly the food, of course. Corned beef and cabbage, with carrots, potatoes, homemade bread, and for me, the best yet to come is when we enjoy Reuben sandwiches the next day.
So, it shouldn’t be much of a problem to do a column about St. Pat’s Day, right? I’ve done it before; I can do it again. But it’s Sunday evening now, the column is due in the morning, and this is about my third, no, fourth attempt to do a happy-go-lucky, may the blessings of the Irish be with you, lighthearted blarney-type column for today’s Record. And it’s just not happening.
Why? Because I can’t get the scenes of destruction in Japan out of my head long enough to be lighthearted about the Irish and their patron saint, Patrick. Oddly enough, when I tried to think if I’d ever before seen such totally devastating, horrific scenes, the ones that came first to mind were the photos we saw soon after Hiroshima. The irony of that is too obvious, but it’s nevertheless true.
The difference is that technology has made such leaps and bounds in the ability to show us any catastrophe virtually at the time it’s happening, that the impact is many, many times greater than viewing photos or a news clip days later. That earthquake in Japan, one of the most destructive, deadliest in history, has shaken me up more than I realized until I tried to write about St. Patrick’s Day, and couldn’t.
In my head are the images; the homes, buildings towns, villages, businesses, highways, and worst of all, families that were wiped out, destroyed, in the space of minutes, not by man made tools of destruction, but by natural, uncontrollable, unpredictable forces. First, the quake itself, then the overwhelming deluge of the tsunami. The magnitude of the loss is beyond my ability to comprehend when
I look at the videos both on the Internet and on news broadcasts.
How, I wonder, does one ever put life back together again, after such a shocking, almost instantaneous loss of everything. Yes, governments all over the globe are offering help, and people from everywhere are flocking in to assist in any way possible. But, there sits a woman in the midst of a pile of rubble, the rubble of what was once her life. Everything she has known as her life is gone, and her eyes are vacant, staring, as she tries to understand what she must do in the next few moments, let alone the rest of her life.
We, here on this island, sit on or very near a major fault in our earth’s substrata. I now understand, for the first time in my life, that it could be me, sitting in front of what once was my life, trying to understand.
I’m genuinely sorry I couldn’t give you a blarney good column about
St. Patrick’s Day; it just wasn’t there, this time. The recipes, of course, are there (see below), but the Irish in me (and there is some, thanks to a great-grandmother) is currently being haunted by Japanese spirits, and this is no time for blarney.
RECIPES
Today I’ll be doing our corned beef and cabbage the old-fashioned, slow way, but for many of you it will be a working day, as usual, and long and low may not be an option. This recipe I found in Bon Appetit a few years ago is one I use when I have a yen for corned beef on the spur of the moment. It’s a quick, easy but delicious way to have your St. Pat’s dinner in quick-time, if you pick up a fully cooked corned beef ahead of time and be sure you have marmalade on hand.
CORNED BEEF WITH MARMALADE-WHISKEY GLAZE
1 cup orange marmalade
½ cup Irish whiskey
1/8 t. ground nutmeg
1 T. Dijon mustard
2 to 2 ½ lb. piece of lean already cooked corned beef
A dozen or so carrots, peeled and cut in half lengthwise
Fresh parsley, for garnish
Preheat oven to 425 degrees and coat a large rimmed baking sheet with cooking spray.
In a saucepan, boil the marmalade, whiskey and nutmeg until reduced to about ¾ cup or a bit more, stirring often. Mix in the mustard and remove from heat.
Generously brush the corned beef all over with the glaze and place it in the center of the prepared baking sheet.
Toss the carrots with ¼ cup of the glaze in a bowl to coat the carrots, then put them around the beef. Sprinkle carrots with salt and pepper. Roast carrots and beef until the carrots are tender and the beef is golden, about 35 min. Brush occasionally during roasting with more glaze. Transfer to a platter, garnish with parsley and serve, with additional Dijon mustard on the side. Serves 6. (Note: See the recipe below for Champ, which would be an excellent side dish with this corned beef.)
Should you happen to be having a few friends over to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day, you could start them off (and have a lot of fun) with this appetizer. Nothing starts a party off better than fondue, which should really be called fundue. Feel free to substitute any fresh vegetables you prefer.
CHEDDAR STOUT FONDUE
2 cups small red-skinned potatoes, cut in half
2 cups cauliflower florets
2 cups very small Brussels sprouts
2 apples, cored and cut into wedges (sprinkle with lemon juice to avoid browning)
1 lb. Irish cheddar cheese grated (if you can’t find Irish, substitute sharp white cheddar)
2½ T. flour
¾ cup (or more, to your desired consistency for the fondue) Irish stout, such as Guinness, and you’ll want to have some of the same on hand to drink with the fondue
6 T. frozen apple juice concentrate, thawed
1 T. Dijon mustard
Steam all the vegetables until just tender (if you’re using other veggies such as snap peas, carrots strips, celery stalks, etc., don’t steam them). Arrange vegetables and apples around the rim of a large platter.
Toss the cheese with the flour in a large bowl. Bring the stout, juice concentrate and mustard to a simmer in a large saucepan over med. heat. Gradually add the cheese mixture, stirring constantly, until the cheese is melted and smooth, thinning with more stout, if desired. Season with salt and pepper. Transfer fondue to a fondue pot (if you still have one), or to a bowl and place in the center of the platter. Serves about 6 people depending on their fondness for fondue.
We think we know what a “champ” is, but in Ireland, it’s a very specific potato dish, served not only on
St. Patrick’s Day, but on any other day when mashed potatoes are the perfect side dish. This is especially good with the other popular Irish main course dish for St. Patrick’s Day, salmon. It is, in fact, a frequent “champ” in our kitchen.
CHAMP
2 lbs. Russet potatoes, peeled, cut into 1-inch pieces
½ cup whipping cream
¼ cup butter
1 “bunch” green onions, sliced (about 11/3 or so cups)
Cook potatoes in a pot of boiling salted water until very tender, about 15 min.
Meanwhile, bring cream and butter to simmer in a heavy saucepan over med. heat, stirring often. Mix in the green onion. Remove from heat, cover and let steep while the potatoes cook.
Drain potatoes thoroughly, then return to same pot and mash. Add the cream mixture and stir until blended. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Serve with braised lamb shanks, broiled or steamed salmon, corned beef and carrots, braised beef, or just about any other main-course meal. Serves 4.
