make it asofterworld
Irish Stew
[Two prefaces here. 1. You’ll need a fairly decent sized pot for this recipe that has a solidly fitting lid for it. 2. This recipe calls for lamb. Don’t substitute.]
2 1/2 pounds of lamb (chopped into bits about an inch thick)
2 large onions (peeled, chopped into decent sized bits)
4 large potatoes (peeled, chopped into big bits. I mean it, big, like an inch)
4 carrots (peeled, chopped into decent sized bits)
2 1/2 cups water
Parsley (no set amount, to taste really.)
Thyme (no set amount, shake a bit on but don’t cover things)
Salt & pepper (to taste)
Starting with the potatoes, put half the pile of potato bits into the pot, sprinkle some parsley, thyme, salt & pepper then half of the carrot bits, then half of the onion bits, sprinkle more parsley, thyme, salt & pepper, then all of the lamb, add in the rest of the onion, then the rest of the carrots, sprinkle on some parsley, thyme, salt & pepper, then add the remaining potatoes on top. Now add the water.
Put the lid on (tightly) and set pot on the burner on low setting (1-2 at the most) and cook for 1 3/4 hours. Don’t peek! This recipe serves 4-6 hungry people or 4 ravenous people in one go.
Irish Soda Bread (Traditional)
White Soda Bread
4 cups flour
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 3/4 cups buttermilk (also called sour milk in some countries)
Preheat oven to 450 deg. F
Sieve the dry ingredients together (if you don’t have a sieve, put in two cups of flour then the salt and soda and the remaining two cups of flour, blend with your fingers for a minute).
Make a well in the center. Pour the milk into the well. Using a spoon, stir in a full circle around the bowl to mix the flour from the sides. Keep doing this, turning the forming dough to get the flour at the bottom as well but do NOT press hard, just keep it rolling. Dough should be softish but not too wet and sticky.
When the dough is mostly together in the bowl from turning, turn it out onto a floured surface - board or countertop - and knead LIGHTLY for a second, just enough to get the loose bits pressed gently into the dough.
Pat the dough into a rough round shape about two inches thick. Put dough on baking sheet. Using a butter knife, cut a cross on it - not deep, about an inch - to let the fairies out [this isn’t a joke]. Let the cuts go over the sides to make sure [the fairies get out, yes, serious].
Bake in preheated oven for 15 minutes, then turn the oven down to 400 deg F for another 25-30. If you aren’t sure it’s done, lift the bread and tap the bottom center. It will sound hollow if it’s done. Put bread on a wire rack to cool.
[The thing with the fairies is part of the legends but it lets the out-gassing work well and, really, those fairies be awful pissed off iff’n ye cook ‘em into the bread. Makes for not so great bread, pissed off fairies do. The key to the bread is to handle the dough as lightly as you can.]
The Rebel, by Patrick Pearse
The Rebel, by Patrick Pearse, Notes for Revolutionaries Vol 1, Foilseacháin an Ghlór Gafa, Belfast, 2005, pg 68-70
I am come of the seed of the people, the people that sorrow;
Who have no treasure but hope,
No riches laid up but a memory of an ancient glory
My mother bore me in bondage, in bondage my mother was born,
I am of the blood of serfs;
The children with whom I have played, the men and women with whom I have eaten
Have had masters over them, have been under the lash of masters,
and though gentle, have served churls.
The hands that have touched mine,
the dear hands whose touch Is familiar to me
Have worn shameful manacles, have been bitten at the wrist by manacles,
have grown hard with the manacles and the task-work of strangers.
I am flesh of the flesh of these lowly, I am bone of their bone I that have never submitted;
I that have a soul greater than the souls of my people’s masters,
I that have vision and prophecy, and the gift of fiery speech,
I that have spoken with God on the top of his holy hill.
And because I am of the people, I understand the people,
I am sorrowful with their sorrow, I am hungry with their desire;
My heart is heavy with the grief of mothers,
My eyes have been wet with the tears of children,
I have yearned with old wistful men,
And laughed and cursed with young men;
Their shame is my shame, and I have reddened for it
Reddened for that they have served, they who should be free
Reddened for that they have gone in want, while others have been full,
Reddened for that they have walked in fear of lawyers and their jailors.
With their Writs of Summons and their handcuffs,
Men mean and cruel.
I could have borne stripes on my body
Rather than this shame of my people.
And now I speak, being full of vision:
I speak to my people, and I speak in my people’s name to
The masters of my people:
I say to my people that they are holy,
That they are august despite their chains.
That they are greater than those that hold them
And stronger and purer,
That they have but need of courage, and to call on the name of their God,
God the unforgetting, the dear God who loves the people
For whom he died naked, suffering shame.
And I say to my people’s masters: Beware
Beware of the thing that is coming, beware of the risen people
Who shall take what ye would not give.
Did ye think to conquer the people, or that law is stronger than life,
And than men’s desire to be free?
We will try it out with you ye that have harried and held,
Ye that have bullied and bribed.
Tyrants… hypocrites… liars!
Recent photos from living room window. Screw that going out to take pics shyte in the winter. Why do you think I write in the winter? Anyway, these are my quiet, considerate neighbors. I prefer them to the humans that live in the building. They don’t make noise. Occasionally, they press a wet nose to the window but what the heck, between these and the foxes that eat my left overs, I’m happy with my newest temporary residency.
Bettie Follow Friday!
It would take me days and days to describe how awesome these ladies are. If you chose to follow them, you won’t be disappointed. My fellow Boondock Betties:
