Thoughts on blogging

There are some blog philosophy issues that have been mulling about in my brain of late. Last month, during a nasty blog-entry dry spell, I was engrossed with the reaction from other sites on the Food and Wine article “In the Belly of the Blog.” Wells’ article seemed to have two main reactions, he is giving a nod to the well-written blogs out there (which of course, there are many) however most believe he is peering downing from his high magazine post to the basement food writers with repulsion, “Today, eating a cheese sandwich qualifies as a hot scoop for legions of bloggers.”

Ouch.

My first reaction was that is man was on the attack for fear of his job. Why should anyone subscribe to his magazine, when the same basic information could be found on the Internet for free – minus the slick Lexus and Rolex ads?

Then self-doubt surfaced. It would be great if I lived in Paris, whist taking cooking classes and writing a cook book (Chocolate & Zucchini). But I do not live in England, France, Vietnam, or Hawaii, or in the country. I’m not English with a French husband (Becks & Posh ) – I don’t suffer from any food intolerances to attract a niche audience (Gluten-Free Girl). With my schedule, daily posting are out of the question. To make matters worse, there are other blogs that look just like mine.

Sigh.

Then an article came out in the Washington Post, stating that the majority of people couldn’t cook their way out of a bag of ramen noodles. Recipes now have to be written for “culinary illiterates.” The term “cream” is now only thought of as a noun, not a verb. Evidently the population loves to watch “$40-a Day” “Iron Chef” and “Unwrapped” on Food Network – not the shows that actually teach you how to cook. (And if you think “Semi-Homemade Cooking” falls into this later category, you are oh-so wrong.)

With my post in mind, I now feel that this blog does have a sense of purpose – even if no one seems to be reading this but my Mom.

Irish Soda Bread 

Irish Soda Bread

Since both of my parents have red-hair, St. Patrick’s Day was a big deal in my house growing up. My dad would wear thick green suspenders over his Air Force blues. If I was going to Catholic School, my mom would allow me to break the uniform code and wear a totally green outfit. (The general tone in our house was that not wearing green on St. Patrick’s Day should be the eighth deadly sin.) Mom would pack my sack lunch with a sandwich, green Kool-Aid and a shamrock sugar cookie (Yes, I know it was far from an authentic “Irish” lunch, but hey, it was the 70’s.)

Dinner would be corned beef and cabbage, another American take on Irish cuisine. But the great thing was that Dad would pull out The Dubliner’s and Clancy Brothers’ LP’s. Most people who think of Irish music recall “Danny Boy”, the slow mournful ballad. Not us. We would sing “Tim Finnegan’s Wake” “The Moonshiners” “Wild Rover” “Reilly’s Daughter” and my personal favorite “Are you ready for a war?”

The odd turn of fate? When I went to Dublin a couple of years ago, I was very surprised to be singing along to the traditional music at the pubs. My St. Patrick’s Day “training” came in handy while I was actually there.

I really don’t listen to the Clancy Brothers much anymore, though I do have the Chieftains in my collection. My son, however, seems to be carrying on the Irish tradition with his love for Flogging Molly and Dropkick Murphys – though much more punk than anything we listened to, each generation modifying a tradition.

With that in mind, I’ve abandoned the corned beef and cabbage, since I would be the only one in our house to eat it and it’s something I just don’t miss. (One of my students this semester is from Ireland, and he told me he never heard of corned beef and cabbage until he got to the States – and he’s not fond of it at all.) However every year, I have to make Irish Soda Bread. This recipe came from the CYO (Catholic Youth Association) group in Massachusetts. The big fund-raiser of the year was their St. Patrick’s Day Dinner. We would start at 7 in the morning peeling 100 pounds of potatoes, to serve dinner for close to 200 people. It was a ton of work, but fun project to work on.

Irish Soda Bread is very much like one big scone – and must be served warm. If you wait to eat it when it is cold, it is quite hard. Make a pot of tea when the bread just comes out of the oven, and when it’s done brewing you can enjoy the bread with lots of butter and maybe even some jam.

Irish Soda Bread

Preheat oven to 375°. Cut 3 Tablespoons of butter into 2 ½ cups flour, 2 Tablespoon sugar, 1 teaspoon baking soda, 1 teaspoon baking powder, and ½ teaspoon of salt, until it resembles fine crumbs. Stir in 1/3 cup raisins (or currants) and ¾ cup of buttermilk to make a soft dough. Turn on to lightly floured surface; knead for 1-2 minutes until smooth. Shape into round loaf, and place on grease cookie sheet (or warmed baking stone). Cut an “X” into the top of the loaf with a floured knife. Bake at 375° for 35-45 minutes, until golden brown. Brush with melted butter, if desired. Serve warm.

Hot Milk Cake, with original "recipe" from my Great-Grandmother.
 

Hot Milk Cake

On a stained, crumpled paper was written the following:

Hot Milk Cake
4 eggs
2 cups sugar
2 tea. Baking powder
2 ½ cups flour
1 cup hot milk

This paper, with many others, was shoved in the back of my great-grandmother’s kitchen cabinet. This “recipe” was merely a list of ingredients. Like a secret code, I set out to decipher this family treasure. One of my aunts had warned me that Grandma Helen often left out an ingredient (or two) when she gave out her recipes. This did not make me feel any better about tackling this recipe – but why would she leave out something in a recipe she used herself?

This cake had an interesting texture. It was certainly not as tender as a boxed cake mix, but its sturdy texture worked well with the jam. The center did not get too soggy or go off, as often happens with very moist cakes. I recommend this cake with jam in the winter, but you could certainly use fresh fruit and cream in the summer. The cake can absorb some of the liquid from the fruit, without loosing too much of its structure.

I used whole milk with this recipe, since there is no butter included. My only additions were the salt and the vanilla. Next time I may increase the vanilla to a full teaspoon, but a ½ teaspoon worked will with the jam center.

2 teaspoon baking powder
½ teaspoon salt
2 ½ cups flour

4 eggs, room temperature
2 cups sugar
½ teaspoon vanilla
1 cup whole milk

Preheat oven to 350°

Using two 9-inch round cake pans, trace circles on to parchment paper, cut out and place in bottom of pan (be sure that the side with ink in facing the bottom). Grease and flour the sides of the pans. Set aside.

Sift dry ingredients together. Set aside.

In standing mixer, beat eggs for three minutes, until pale and fluffy. (They should increase in volume.) Meanwhile, place milk in small saucepan over medium-low heat. You want to scald the milk (heat until a few bubbles come up on the sides). Make sure the milk does not burn while you continue preparing the batter.

To the eggs, slowly add the sugar, beating all the while (total of five minutes). Lower the speed of the mixer. When the milk is warm enough, begin slowly adding a spoonful or two of flour, then some of the warm milk to the egg mixture. Alternate the two ingredients, ending with a small amount of flour.

Divide batter into the prepared pans. Bake for about 25 minutes, until tops are golden and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Cool on racks for ten minutes. Run a butter knife along the sides of the pans, and flip cake out on to racks. Peel back parchment, allow cakes to cool completely.

Place bottom cake layer on plate, spoon jam on top. Top with remaining cake and sprinkle with powdered sugar, serve with whipped cream.