18 March Monday

One of the most looked forward to of foodstuffs, Irish Soda Bread. If ever I were to teach baking, I would begin with Irish Soda Bread. It may be the single easiest recipe in the world. And the effect it has on people! It is thick, dense, sturdy, slightly tangy, craggy, chewy. It is amazing dipped in the drippings, makes great toast, amazing grilled sandwiches. Every time I make and eat it, I wonder why I don’t make it more frequently. Then I forget about it till next year.

The soda bread made a wonderful bed fellow of Irish Stew; a warm duvet sopping up the au jus of melted lamb shoulder, potatoes, carrots, onions, and thyme. A little dinner conversation revealed that I’d used a recipe which had the ingredients stacked in a specific order, the liquid added without disturbing the order of the contents. It is never stirred, or indeed disturbed in anyway. So, is it a stew or a braise? I think technically a braise. The liquid added (water!) didn’t reach an inch of the way up the pan. It was the low, slow cooking, the meat giving its essence, the vegetables releasing their water. Heavenly. It braised on Saturday night, I left it in the turned off oven overnight, and when I got home from work on Sunday, turned the oven back on for another hour until it was piping, gently bubbly hot. Supremo.

Both of these foods seem in every way to be authentic. The stew tastes only of its components, there are no flavor surprises. We taste the lamb, and each vegetable holds on to its own flavor. Which is surprising. Things that are so simple, guests nod and their eyebrows go up (both of them, at the same time) when you tell them what isn’t in it.

Another batch of hot cross buns, with raisins, currants, homemade candied citrus peel, allspice, cinnamon, glazed with well, glaze. You can clearly see I am not so into the cross. It’s actually a nice looking design-a pastry intended to remind one of public execution. Kinda fun. At the same time, it is exactly the correct amount of icing these buns need. Thank you, Jesus.

Finally, on my morning walk, I beheld them. Local, fresh from the farm, standing tall and proud-the might Californian Asparagus. The asparagi of other places are thin and tender, but these west coast babies are the Sequoias of the vegetable world. That means spring onions, green garlic, salmon, chicken, lamb, and other springy things are springing into spring. Everywhere I look, signs of life.