The poor Irish weather is responsible for this recipe. In the same way as one is guaranteed to have a return of rain here on the Emerald Isle, you will return to this recipe. You will do so again, and again and again. “Wow”, you muse. “Can this recipe be all that good?” It is but, that’s not exactly what I mean.
The use (or misuse) of the English language to promote food provenance makes it hard to choose. Is that chicken ‘barn raised’ or ‘free range’? Why is my pork not ‘Dry Aged’? Where is the Local of ‘Locally Produced’? What does ‘Natural’ mean? Do you really want my beef to be ‘Grain Finished’?… What do all these terms mean? Do they mean anything?
I had the particular pleasure of dining out at a fundraiser hosted by a friend of mine Aidan Sheeran, who is cycling from Paris to Nice (in France). He is doing this to raise funds for Pieta House, a very worthy cause and one dear to his heart. I would encourage you to hop over to his fundraising page and be generous. In a fit of selfishness and malevolence, I am putting the link at the bottom of this post in the vain hope that it might get you to read all the way through.
Take pity on the poor Irish blogger. We are a simple lot. We are not used to being regulated. Many of us have been happy to purloin images from around the Internet for our own use, not knowing nor bothered that those images, and the revenue rights appended, are owned by others. The Irish Bloggers group on Facebook has been doing a deal to educate us of late. However, our situation has been made much worse with the news that The Advertising Standards Authority of Ireland has brought us within their compass. Now we have to be upfront when we post for profit. No more can we secretly trouser a few quid and say that we love those gravy granules. We have to say clearly and unequivocally that we are in receipt of funds for saying the glorious things about those hateful globs of granulated gunge.
After a winter of being cooped up in the kitchen, I checked the weather forecast and saw that it would be dry and bright. Having spent the dark winter days trying to time my cooking to coincide with the available light, I decided that I would prepare the food and cook outdoors. My plan was to do some beef burgers. I wanted to take advantage of the warm afternoon. So, I donned a t-shirt and headed outdoors.
I was out for a pint with a couple of friends recently. We were in a bar, on Dublin’s Thomas Street. There were a very few customers and the only action going on was the rhythmic ticking of the clock. As usual, when one is having drink and enjoying the company of Tara Sparling and her persistently patient better half, Mark, everything was good in the world.
Side note on Sparling: I first met Tara at a blog awards ceremony a couple of years ago. She writes about all things books and literary. In my opinion, she is one of the funniest writers around. Check out her blog here.
There is something pretty exotic sounding in ‘Tajine Virgin’. Visions of fleeting glances at the desired mysterious, shrouded in veils, on the edge of a Souk, conjure up that feeling of raw animal anticipation. The allure tends to fade a bit as one realises that the virgin is in fact a baldy, past middle-aged man, with a penchant for flinging himself in at the culinary deep end at every opportunity. Having said that, I suspect there are few better ways to consummate your culinary coming of age than to cook this version of North African Meatballs in Spicy Sauce.
“57º for 48 Hours. They will be delicious.” Or, so came the casual (too casual as it turned out), throw-away remark. I gave a good bit of thought to what would go nicely with the Beef Shins Sous Vide, over the two days and nights the dinner was cooking. They were going to be epic. I would serve them with a parsnip purée. Beef and parsnip is a match made in heaven. I would make a delicious thick gravy from the bag juices. This would tie everything together perfectly.
If you are female, don’t even bother reading any further. If you are male and happen to be a bit effeminate, go with the girls. If you are offended by the first two sentences, don’t think about reading on. If you happen to be a hermaphrodite, it’s your call. Just be warned, this is man’s stuff.
A properly cooked fillet steak is a joy to enjoy. Cooking a fillet (tenderloin) is not difficult either. Simply sear it on either side and throw the pan into a hot oven for a few minutes and the job is practically done. You can complicate the process and clog your arteries by finishing it (and yourself too) with butter. I have never seen the need to do this. A good fillet is a good fillet. Right?
