Sallygardens Smallholding

A Trip to Save Turf on the Bog

Our Wwoofers from New Zealand are wonderful people, they have settled in well and a lot of extra work is getting done. Last week we all went to help our neighbour save some turf from the bog (or 'bawg' as they say in Leitrim). Turf has been used for generations by many Irish rural dwellers to heat their homes. It's a concept that proves difficult for visitors to get their heads around .... burning slices of earth! These days turf is no longer cut by hand, instead it's scooped up by a digger into a large mixer then squirted out in lengths along the ground. Our job was to stack the turf 'sausages', a task called Footing. The Footings are built with wide gaps which allows air to circulate and dry the turf. It's then either taken home and stored for winter or built into close fitting large Clamps (seen in the background of this photograph) in a manner that allows rainfall to trickle off the surface. The structures themselves are quite beautiful and remind me of the beehive huts on the Skellig Islands.

With four adults and three children we made short work of five rows and managed to Foot what would take an individual a whole day within an hour. There was a spirit of competition as each person took a row to themselves and a little bit of distraction tactics were employed with some keen contestants chucking bits of turf at the each other. As usual Dan won and I came last!

When the work was done we took leave to what is akin to the 19th hole for golfers. In our case it was O' Callaghan's pub in Mohill for a swift rehydrating lunchtime Guinness. Like many of the traditional pubs it's not just a place to drink but also a grocery shop, as you can see by the tea bag display in one window and horse tackle in the other.

As a child my Father and I would play a game when walking through Irish villages called 'Guess the Shop By What's In the Window'. Not as straightforward as you might think. I remember on one occasion we saw a shop front which contained a ball of string and a jar of sweets. It turned out to be an Undertakers (funeral parlour) and a pub. In the countryside people often diversify their shops in order to survive eg estate agents and car spare parts under one roof.

You'd think that at my age I'd know a pint at lunchtime means the rest of the afternoon is spent in an unproductive lazy stupor, but sometimes that's the best way to spend a day.

Eating Weeds - Nettle Soup

Nature provides a wide range of free 'weeds' that are bursting with vitamins and minerals. The nutrient levels found in weeds are often far in excess of  home grown herbs and salads.  Don't let this time of year pass by without indulging in the delights of nettle soup and harnessing its nutritional potential.  As the tender new spring shoots rise above the soil it's the perfect time to harvest this plant. As spring advances the leaves become tough and once flowers appear the nettles have passed their peak in terms of nutrients. Spinach has an iron content of 4.1mg/100g and magnesium at 51 compared to  nettles with iron at 7.8  and Mag at 71.  In terms of the healing effects of nettle recipes they are said to be a great tonic during menstruation or the menopause. In Ireland the plant was also added to bedding to treat rheumatism, although I wouldn't advise trying this!

Our children were enthralled by what seemed to them as the totally mad notion of eating nettles and couldn't wait to taste the final product.

I came across a lovely little recipe for nettle soup in a book called 'Cooking Weeds: Vegetarian Recipes' by Vivien Weise which I adapted slightly. Choose plants in areas that you know without doubt have not been sprayed with chemicals or contaminated by animals. Take care not to get stung!

First collect 100grams of nettle leaves by snipping with a scissors and letting the leaves fall into a paper bag. Rinse the leaves several times in fresh water. Chop two onions finely and fry them in olive oil for eight minutes in a soup pot, stirring occasionally, until golden. Add one clove of crushed garlic, 500g of diced potato (I leave skins on) and one litre of water. Bring to the boil for fifteen minutes, then add the nettle leaves and boil for another fifteen minutes. Add 200ml of cream, milk or soya milk and leave to cool slightly before using a hand blender. Add salt to taste and prepare to be amazed (by the taste, not the photo!).

Serve garnished with grated carrot, beetroot, cheese or a dollop of creme fraise. It's delicious and you can literally taste the goodness, chi, prana, or whatever you want to call it.

Barm Brack - Irish Halloween Tradition

I took the Irish tradition of Barm Brack for granted right into my adult years. It wasn't until I left for University in the UK at the age of 19 that I discovered nobody there knew what on earth I was referring to when I verbally craved a slice nearing Halloween!

So here I share with you a recipe and a little about the tradition. The main thing is that this cake is great fun! How so? Well hidden inside, baked into the cake, are a number of trinkets. Each represents something different, the cake is a bit like a giant fortune cookie. The baker wraps each item in greaseproof paper and adds them to the dough before cooking. Children watch intently as the slices are cut and listen for any telltale metallic clinks made by the knife! Mothers usher the children out of the kitchen and then disguise any protruding objects with extra thick layers of butter and jam! Slices are handed out, no close up examinations are allowed before choosing and the host must have a poker face not to give away any inside information!!!

The trinkets include ;
a ring - predicting marriage within the year
a coin - wealth
piece of rag - poverty
thimble - batchelorette
button - batchelor
In our house I just put in a Euro coin for each child, and perhaps a cheap (non toxic!) ring if I can get my hands on one, and the rag.

And now for the recipe, which to be honest, is of little importance in comparison to the excitement of getting 'the ring' and the money, the rag is the boobie prize!

1 lb (454g) flour
6 oz (170g) sugar
1 lb (454g) raisins
1 tsp baking powder
1 egg
200ml milk
1 tsp all spice/mixed spice
A pinch of salt
A mug of cooled black tea



Method:
Soaking the raisins overnight in the tea.
Wrap each trinket in greaseproof paper.
The following day, add the sugar, milk and egg to the raisins (the tea will have mostly soaked into the fruit). Sift in the remaining dry ingredients. Mix gently. Stir in the wrapped trinkets and try to hide them evenly throughout the mix. Use a 7" round baking tin at 180C (350°F) for 80 minutes. Cool on a wire rack. Once cooled, cut and spread with butter and jam amid great excitement! You just have time to get baking your Barm Brack in time for Wednesday.

Catching Eels

Two years ago we purchased an eel basket with every intention of putting it good use. This weekend we finally got around to using it. We had a guest staying and we all traipsed down to the lake shore at dusk to plant the basket, hoping to dine on eels for breakfast. It was set amongst some submerged stones, where we were told it was traditionally a very productive spot.

In the morning we gathered together a knife and a pair of dry gloves, and set off in the early dew, with hungry tummies and keen fisher folk!

The anticipation was mighty as Dan retrieved the basket, weaved from willow, and brought it to shore. He opened the lid and we all tentatively peered inside, half yearning for an eel breakfast, half ready to 'eek' at the sight of  black squirming eels, and all the frolics involved with holding it, never mind dispatching, gutting and cooking it!

And so, was breakfast to be freshly cooked eel fried in butter ... or porridge ... the latter I'm afraid! Half disappointed, half relieved, we put the basket back in another spot for another 24 hours.

One of our neighbours told us how eels were a popular source of food when he was a boy. They would be caught in that special spot he told us about. The standard procedure to kill them in those days was as follows ... once caught, you would take hold of one by the tail and throw it up into the air as high as possible,  and while the eel began its decent one would have to be sure to say out loud 'In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost', otherwise the eel would not die. The landing place of the eel must also be soft ground, such as grass. If these instructions were followed the eel would be dispatched, but if the wording was missed out, or the eel fell on hard ground, it would surely remain alive. We have yet to test this procedure, but when we do, I'll be sure to take lots of photographs!

Clay Pipes & Coffee

First thing in the morning I like to get the day started with a milky decaf coffee, made with no water, just fresh goats milk straight from the pasture, and a spoon of unrefined sugar crystals or organic honey. Usually the rest of the family are still sleeping, or just beginning to stir and I bring Dan his cuppa in bed where we ponder the chores for the coming day.

On this particular sunny misty morning my neighbour who owns the joining field to our goats was digging his potatoes into his lazy beds. We waved as I chatted to my goat girls and got the milking underway. Ten minutes and a litre of milk later he meandered over with a little gift he had unearthed. Its the remnants of a clay pipe and he proceeded to tell me a little of its history.

During an Irish wake the host would provide each of the guests with a clay pipe and a pouch of tobacco, which would be used for the duration of the wake. When it drew to a close the mourners would take home their pipe and place it to rest on the top of their barn walls. In years to come, they would get knocked off by various creatures in passing, onto the manure below. The manure would then be shovelled out and spread on the field, and hence rediscovered years later by those of us digging new plots for vegetable growing. Number 46 is imprinted on the pipe, we don't know the significance of this ... perhaps its a pipe size? or the 46th wake of the parish that year!

Rural Knowledge

The knowledge that is held in the minds of some farming people amazes me. It doesn’t matter how many times I read The New Complete Guide to Self Sufficiency cover to cover, it will never compare with a lifetime of living on the land. During one of our daily family walks down our lane we stopped for a chat with one of our neighbours. He is a salt of the earth elderly farmer living in a nearby cottage with his sister and brother. We were chatting about the crop of apples on our apple trees which was enormous the first year we saw the house. We then committed a major error … we invested in a juicer and were arrogant enough to look forward to drinking home grown apple juice during the following years months of September and October. Obviously jinxing ourselves with optimism, the trees failed to fruit for the following two years! As we chewed and shared beach nuts overhanging the lane we discussed the ins and outs of pruning with our neighbour. He reminisced how people would come from far and wide to poach the famously delicious apples from our houses previous owner! He suggested a tip which he says many local people used to do years ago. Cut out a slit in the bark of the apple tree trunk about six inches long and half an inch wide. In January cut a similar slit of bark out of a whitethorn tree trunk and slot that into the gap you have just removed from the apple tree. Tie a string around the trunk to secure the bark. He swears that in doing this the apple tree bounty increases dramatically, and the apples themselves grow to an enormous size. You won’t find that information on my bookshelf, but I will certainly be trying the technique this spring.