Ireland day 6

We started the day by hopping a bus into Cork City, knows for it’s eclectic shopping and culture. Stopped in a Victorian style coffee shop to start the day with a rich, dreamy hot chocolate beside a fire and accompanied by Mozart. We started walking and shopping and spent the next few hours just marveling at the bustle of the city. I was absolutely captivated by street music by a talented musician playing Vivaldi and Polish mazurkas on an electric violin. The fast-moving people swirled around him and us. We lunched at Bocelli, a divine Italian/Mediterranean restaurant where I had seared ahi tuna topped with lime garlic aioli and a rocket salad, accompanied by roasted cherry tomatoes. The delicious entree was followed by my favorite, Iris affogato (vanilla ice cream with hot espresso and Bailey’s Irish cream poured over the top). Dreamy!

On our feet again to walk to the magnificent Fin-Barre cathedral where the organist was practicing, through the beautiful University College Cork and Fitzgerald Park, and then to the not-so-pleasant memories of the Cork City Gaol, the women’s prison from the 1800’s. Beautiful architecture but such a dark time for the city.

Rush for the bus, hour ride back to Kinsale, and a dinner of grilled cheese sandwiches at the cottage. We actually walked 9 miles so were both happy to put our feet up!

Ireland day 5

A day in Kilbrittain. Took a bus to the village and got off in a deserted sweet little town. Until the church traffic started. But we asked about the lovely walk and were directed up the hill toward a towpath. Just as we started, we were able to see the Kilbrittain castle. It was simply magnificent but privately owned so we weren’t able to go to it. But the path was peaceful, cool, running beside a stream for much of the way. At one point we saw a herd of cows atop a pretty high hill and realized we were headed up that way. So, we climbed and climbed and ended up with amazing views. Not one of our longer walks, but such a delight. We met two of the sweetest donkeys who are evidently the town mascots. We capped off the day with fish and chips at the Spaniard pub, some of the best fish I’ve had in a long time. But then, it is caught right here.

Ireland day 4

The Scilly Walk

Oops! Fell asleep before posting last night. We did an almost seven mile trek along the Scilly Walk (as opposed to Monty Python’s Silly Walks). Okay, maybe we did a few silly walks.

It was a lovely walk on a footpath along the water, going in and out of trees, around a boatyard, and past quiet little coves on one side and hidden private gardens on the other side. The tide was out so there were beautiful rocks, lots of soggy kelp, and then sweet dogs fetching sticks in one of the coves. We stopped at the Bulman pub on the way back for a wee bite since we were feeling a bit peckish, and then happily walked on back for a snacky dinner in the cottage.

Ireland day 3

So today was an eating sort of day. Okay, we did plenty of walking. To earn our food as it were. We walked the town of Kinsale, a sweet little harbor town with shops and restaurants and lovely little pubs of every ilk. I don’t normally post pictures of food I’m eating in a restaurant, but couldn’t resist this one. A gooey warm brownie with chocolate sauce and bourbon vanilla ice cream. Just the ticket on a blustery Irish day. The fruit in the picture is a tart ground cherry, complete with papery husk.

Then we shopped for Irish wool and linen, postcards and a myriad of Irish gourmet foods for our dinners to come.

Kinsale is well known for its colorful buildings and multicolored doors. On every street there are shops with beautiful architecture accented with bright colors. And a sense of incredible history with old buildings, ancient architecture and cobbled, winding streets.

Tomorrow the weather will clear and we’ll be out hiking for the day. And having fish and chips tomorrow night at the Spaniard pub accompanied by live Celtic music.

Ireland day 2

Today we had a sumptuous Irish continental breakfast at our Dublin hotel, took a taxi to the train station and then had a three-hour train ride to Cork. The Irish, and perhaps all of Europe, know how to do trains. The trip flew by on a fast, clean, smooth train. The countryside was dotted periodically with beautiful old church and building ruins that flashed by with no notoriety, no mention. They were simply a part of the rural landscape, along with so many, many cows and sheep.

We arrived in Kinsale on the southern coast, and were transported up a winding hill on extremely narrow cobble streets to Tara cottage on the harbor. Our host greeted us with fresh scones, butter and jam and a pot of tea. After reconnaissance of supplies in the cottage, we walked into town for a bite to eat at the Spaniard Inn, another old pub. Delicious fresh wild mushroom soup and Irish brown bread along with an Irish stout. I don’t know who the Spaniard is but he’s certainly serious looking. I need to do a little research.

Then a trip to the market. Or rather markets. Each one had some things, none had all things we needed. But the shopkeepers were a delight, and quite willing to make suggestions on the best Irish goods. We bought fresh Irish butter and cream, free-range eggs, fruits, Irish potatoes of course, and freshly baked brown bread. I must show some restraint or I may exceed the pound limit for the flight home.

The most remarkable parts of our walk were the flowers everywhere, even in October. Window boxes filled with heather, fuchsias growing in the woods, geraniums in pots on a wall. And the climate is mild enough for palms.

Tomorrow, we’ll seek out a cozy cafe for breakfast/lunch, and then explore this lovely little town (we’ve already spotted about ten places we want to revisit.

A Fall in Ireland

Normally I write about food. But I’d like you to take a stroll with me as I enjoy the fall in Ireland.
Day 1 – started in Dublin. After a hard slog through sleeplessness and jet lag, we went out into the rainy city searching for good food, a warm place to relax and some local culture. Dublin is mostly like any other city with a myriad of national and international shops. But nestled in between the Burger King and Dunnes department stores are tidy, old buildings with beautiful facades that house small eateries, pubs and local art. Here’s where we had lunch:

Stag’s Head pub

Established in the 1770s, this pub has “been great pints, great food, great craic”. This is probably Dublin’s best preserved Victorian pub – and everything here is authentic – carved Victorian mahogany fittings, mosaic marble tiled floors and a mahogany bar, capped with red Connemara marble.

And, we capped off the day with local pizza and a quick pass by the Dublin castle. Now back to the hotel and lots of sleep.

Summer Greens

I was driving in a nearby neighborhood the other day, minding my own business, when an unusual sight caught my eye. In front of a typical suburban house was a sidewalk edged with a beautiful hedge of ruby chard.

There was no vegetable garden in sight. Behind the chard, a single tomato plant occupied the front flower bed, surrounded by a little basil and some marigolds. The chard was a beautiful accent to the house.

There is no reason why the summer kitchen cannot always be overflowing with greens. Once spinach and Chinese cabbage are finished in spring and the heat of summer begins to weigh on the garden, it’s time for the stalwart summer greens! Swiss chard is a humble vegetable, but one that has an unbelievable array of culinary possibilities. Also called silverbeet or seakale beet, it is technically a beet bred for its greens. It is simple to grow and monstrously productive.


The word kale often brings to mind an image of the purple and lime green frilly balls of ornamental kale in fall containers or the plastic-like bushes used as garnishes on restaurant plates. But culinary kale is a different vegetable entirely. There is an infinite number of choices, from smooth to crinkly to ‘Red Russian’ that turns purple-red in cold weather. Compared to kale purchased in the grocery store, homegrown kale is considerably more tender and succulent as well as sweeter than the types grown commercially.

Kale is also remarkably easy to grow. It’s closely related to cabbage, and the leaves have a faint cabbage-like flavor. But long after spring cabbages have begun to turn fiery and tough in summer, kale keeps providing sweet, tender greens for the table. It produces well into fall, actually being sweetened by frost. It’s not unheard of to still be harvesting kale after Thanksgiving.


Mustard greens will add piquancy to any salad or dish, with a zingy vinegary essence. The broad-leafed types are best for summer use, as they grow large and luxurious without getting stringy and tough. If allowed to go to seed, the mustard plant is useful in all forms. The seed stalks are tasty sautéed, and the seeds make the familiar tangy seasoning for hot dogs or pickles.


Collards, another sizable green, are grown frequently in the South – and for good reason. They remain tender and tasty throughout the summer and are slow to bolt in spite of heat and drought. They have a more cabbage-like flavor than mustard greens, but a little taste of collards seasoned with garlic and complemented with prosciutto will make you wonder why you didn’t start growing collards years ago.

Once you are hooked on greens, there is a wealth of other summer treats to try, from amaranth to Chinese kale to komatsuna (also called spinach mustard) to mizuna. Asian greens of all types are becoming more popular and thus easier to find. Check out your local farmers market to try a few and plan to use them in your own garden next year!


Dark leafy greens pack an unbelievable vitamin wallop, to say nothing about their cancer-fighting phytochemicals. In addition to eating greens for themselves, try adding them to omelets, fresh or marinated salads, soups and savory breads.

Sauteed greens with orzo

Remove stems and chop chard. Set aside. Cook pasta and drain, reserving 3/4 cup cooking liquid. Sauté garlic 30 seconds in oil, add chard and sauté 3 minutes or until wilted. Combine cooking liquid, ricotta, 2 T. Parmesan and stir well. Combine with chard mixture and toss well. Top with remaining Parmesan. Serves 4.

Rewilding for the Fireflies

This time of year, it’s a joy to sit outside in the darkening evening to watch fireflies. They are coming back slowly after a scare about extinction. Pesticides and lack of habitat have forced them out but the movement to make our landscapes into more natural all-encompassing habitats is helping them regain a foothold. 

I’ve been watching a movement in Britain now taking hold here in the US called “rewilding”. It is basically what we’ve been doing for years to replace our lawns with meadows, our ornamental landscapes with natives and pollinator plants. The movement is worth looking into for ideas if you are in the mode of introducing natives and pollinators to your landscape. 

black chokeberry

Instead of adding a new ornamental shrub, think about a native fruiting shrub or tree. Fill your landscape with a food forest. The upper canopy full of native fruiting trees, the shrub layer with black chokeberries or currants and the ground level with herbs to keep your trees and shrubs from being planted in a sea of grass. 

Instead of blowsy flowers that have no scent, consider pollinator favorites like beebalm and coneflowers. Or something for the hummers and butterflies like native salvias and penstemon. It’s pretty easy once you start looking to find many resources on these types of plants. 

If you really want to see what rewilding is all about on a large scale, check out this website: https://rewilding.org/. And, here is a magazine all about it as well: https://www.rewildingmag.com/

And perhaps if we all make an effort to restore damaged landscapes to a more natural state, we will make better firefly habitats. Not to mention butterflies, moths, beetles…………. 

I, for one, simply cannot imagine a summer without fireflies. 

Use any mixture of berries to make this jam without any pectin. 

6 cups berries such as sliced strawberries, raspberries, blackberries, chokeberries, blueberries

2 cups sugar

2 tablespoons bottled lemon juice

Place the berries and sugar in a large saucepan. Stir the mixture and bring to a boil over medium-high heat. Reduce to a soft boil on medium heat and cook, uncovered, stirring frequently, for about 20 minutes or until the jam has thickened. Stir in lemon juice. 

To test the thickness of the jam, at the start of cooking time place a few metal spoons in the freezer. Take out one spoon and coat the back. If it’s too runny, continue cooking and test every 5 minutes the jam sets. Once cooled, transfer to a glass jar with a fitted lid and store in the refrigerator for up to 2 weeks. Enjoy on toast or sandwiches. 

Putting Food By

Our house is in the midst of putting summer in jars. All winter we’ll recall the sights and scents of summer as we open jars of home-canned fruits and vegetables.

Opening a jar of our tomatoes in the dead of January lets the odor of summer waft through the kitchen and the scent is so strong that you can almost hear bees buzzing and feel the warmth rising from dark soil.

“Putting food by” is much more than just filling the larders for winter consumption — it is an elixir for the soul. Not only is the food good for us, but one of the best prescriptions available for keeping the winter doldrums at bay is homemade strawberry jam on warm toast.

My grandmother, who taught me to how to can, always used everything from the garden. After canning tomatoes, green beans and squash, the leftover vegetables would go into chowchow or green tomato piccalilli.

Pickled asparagus

Bolted lettuce and endive were blanched and frozen as bitter greens for a winter stir-fry. Fresh apples and pears went into the root cellar while the overripe or bruised fruits are made into musky butters or tangy chutneys.

I came by the love of preserving naturally. I have such sweet memories about how each time my mother was introduced to a new plant, her first question is not how to grow it, but “Can you make jelly out of the fruit?”

In our house, ripening currants start a frenzy of jelly and syrup-making which continues as plums, elderberries and grapes ripen. For August, September and October the kitchen is converted into a canning kitchen.

Prune plums ready for plum butter

The canning pot takes a position of prominence on the counter, surrounded by canning lids, freezer bags and various utensils for lifting, tightening, pouring and straining. We put up tomatoes, dilly beans, beets, cucumber and zucchini pickles, hot peppers, relishes, pears and herb vinegars.

I recently read that the Ball canning jar company sold its canning jar business because “too many working couples have too little time to engage in the culinary ritual of preserving fruits and vegetables from the home garden.” It makes me sad to think that we are losing a valuable psychological tool for getting through the long winters.

The optimist in me likes to think that the real reason canning jar sales are down is because people are rediscovering the jars in their basement or are inheriting and using jars from parents and grandparents. Even empty, a canning jar is a work of art. It is a masterpiece of solid construction, made of tempered glass that will withstand the pressure cooker again and again.

I have jars that I inherited from my grandmother bearing dates from the late 1800s. They appear to be as sturdy as those purchased today and give me a solid tie to the past as I put bits of summer in them.

In the middle of the summer heat, the sound of the dehydrator buzzing and the smells of ripe fruit and vegetables and the bright jars of pear butter, tomato sauce, tarragon vinegar and green tomato pickles make this a luscious time of year.

Crock Pot Butter

4 cups cooked fruit (apple, peach, pear, plum), run through a food mill or food processor. Taste the fruit to determine sweetness. If you like a very sweet butter, add up to 2 cups of sugar. If you like it more tart, make it with only a small amount of sugar.

2 t. cinnamon
½ t. cloves

Cook all day on low, stirring and scraping down sides occasionally. Taste as you go and add more sugar if needed. Spoon into hot half-pint canning jars, leaving ¼” headroom. Slide a butter knife down the sides to release bubbles and wipe the rim. Cap with hot canning flats and rings. Place in the canner and bring to a rolling boil. Process for 10 minutes and remove from water. Allow to cool on the counter, making sure all flats “pop” to ensure a seal. If one jar doesn’t seal, put it in the refrigerator and enjoy!

Porches

A place to relax in the garden. Isn’t that an oxymoron? Can any gardener actually relax? While it may be hard to stop picking and tucking and weeding and fussing, relaxing in the garden you’ve created is the best part of the day. After hours of hard work, what better reward can there be than to flop into an overstuffed chair on the porch with a novel or laze in a soft cotton hammock, swaying gently in the breeze and counting clouds.

The dictionary defines relax as “to slacken” and “to ease.” Although our culture tends to assign negative connotations, as if to do either shows lack of character or slovenliness, I’ll go against the grain and put relaxing in my garden at the forefront of my chore list. For me, the best place “to ease” is the porch.

I covet those grand farmhouses with a porch that wraps around the entire house. But that’s not really necessary unless you have thirteen kids, each of whom needs a separate place to play checkers or brush the dog or giggle with a boyfriend.

In reality, any porch will do. The porch of my dreams has wide scuffed boards and a traditional robin’s egg blue ceiling. It is appointed with a whitewashed willow settee, a glider or porch swing with a soft floral cushion and mismatched overstuffed, well-worn chairs – lots of places to sit whether you’re dirty or not.

It can be just a place for a moment’s respite from weeding and watering, hoeing and deadheading, or a spot to leave a pile of garden catalogs to thumb through on a water break. But it can also be a gracious room for elegant entertaining.

My dream porch has a banister dripping with old-fashioned scented roses and a trellis off to the side clad in cerulean blue morning glories, making a secret place to sit and read. You can hear what’s going on, but no one can see you – a truly magical spot where the kids can’t see you from the yard.

On a hot afternoon, the porch contains all manner of kids lounging, reading, and playing checkers while others squeal as they run through the sprinkler. There’s a frosted pitcher of lemonade on the rickety table, and the scents of mint, sunflowers and freshly mown grass waft through the air.

Evening falls and you begin to hear Vivaldi playing softly in the background. The porch is full to groaning with family and friends. Someone’s cranking the ice cream freezer and out comes “porch chicken” and potato salad, to be eaten in your lap, followed by bowls of homemade strawberry ice cream and slices of cold watermelon.

Night descends and the citronella oil lanterns are lighted, casting a warm glow on sunburned faces. The fragrance of nicotiana, petunias and evening stocks drifts all around, and the cicadas begin to call as the stars appear. Someone softly strums a guitar and the night is filled with quiet conversation peppered with laughter.

This is what summer is made of.

Ice Cream Base

  • 8 egg yolks
  • 3 c. milk
  • 1 c. half and half
  • 1 c. sugar
  • 4 t. vanilla

Beat yolks and sugar until thick. Scald milk and pour into yolk mixture while stirring. Pour back into pan and heat gently until it coats a spoon. Cool. Stir in vanilla and other additions. Freeze in ice cream freezer.
Additions (use your imagination – the sky’s the limit):

  • Peaches (the best!)
  • Chocolate chips
  • Blueberries
  • Strawberries
  • Chocolate syrup
  • Crumbled mint oreos