Mick's Blog: recipes, book reviews, etc

That Unearthly Valley -- book review 

 That Unearthly Valley
A Donegal Childhood
Patrick McGinley
New Island Books 308 pp. 2011

I know that Patrick McGinley can write. Back in the ‘80s I was enthralled by Bogmail and Goosefoot and other wonderful books that he wrote. I knew he came from Donegal, which is by way of being my home county, but I didn’t know that he came from Glencolmcille. Just this Summer I spent three weeks in Glencolmcille in southwest Donegal. I had last been there back in 1968 or ’69 with my father. My father was the Donegal Development Officer back in those days and sometimes worked with Fr James McDyer, the local priest in Glencolmcille. The Glen, as it’s known, was a good deal different then than it is now and different yet again than it was in 1951, when McDyer was first posted there as a curate. He is credited with bringing material improvements to the area that it was in desperate need of. And, while those improvements were a great benefit, McDyer is not without his critics. McGinley has much on the subject in this book.
In any case, it was pointed out to me while I was there that a little, non-descript cottage that I walked past every day was the boyhood home of McGinley. Then, shortly before I left the Glen I found That Unearthly Valley in the bookstore at Oideas Gael, where I had been co-teaching a class on Irish music. It’s a memoir of growing up in the Glen and I had a fine time reading it, given that the places named were, by now, familiar to me and that the experiences described were, in many ways, familiar to me, too.
McGinley was born in 1937 and educated in Cashel, just up the road from his house, and in Galway. He studied English Literature and Commerce at university and went into publishing in England after a short career in teaching in Ireland.
His descriptions of the moribund Ireland of the 1950s and his compusion to leave are wryly noted but it’s his description of his childhood and most particulary his relationship with his taciturn father that is the core of this book. Fishing, turfcutting and talking take up most of the time and make one long for such a simple existence for oneself. Indeed, I recall visiting the Folk Village museum in the Glen and thinking that a house like the fisherman’s cottage would suit most of my real needs just fine. (My wife, Jean, says I’d need another house just for my books -- but that’s another story.)
The only problem I had with the book was a tendency towards cliché. Differences are described as being like “chalk and cheese’, for instance, and time and again, there are lapses into stock phrases. Things happen “out of the blue”, people “(bear) their learning lightly” or he refers to himself as “not being one of Nature’s optimists”. This is all quite conversational but can be wearing and trite, too. I know McGinley can write and I know he can write better than this.
Still I found the book mostly enjoyable and I’ll probably go back and revisit parts of it

Great House book review 


 Great House
Nicole Krauss
289 pp. W. W. Norton & Company

Well, here’s a strange thing. I liked all the parts of this book. It’s four stories in eight chapters, all connected (ostensibly) by a large desk. Except maybe not. I have to confess that I had a hard time keeping the timeline straight and a hard time figuring out who was who. And one story -- the story of the widowed Aaron and his two sons -- seems to stand on its own. Whatever connection (if any) that it had with said desk eludes me now.
The story starts out in 1972 when Nadia, a self-absorbed and lonely writer, comes into possession of the desk. Its owner, one Daniel Varsky, a Chilean poet, is returning to Chile and needs the desk and some other furniture to have a temporary home.
Twenty-seven years later, Leah Weisz turns up and asks for the desk. Leah is purportedly the daughter of Daniel Varsky and even looks like him. Varsky died many years before at the hands of the military junta in Chile and Leah wants the desk as a rememberance.
Having given up the desk, Nadia finds that she’s unable to write and flys to Jerusalem to re-unite with the desk or to find out why it is that she is now unable to write. While there, she becomes infatuated with a young man who look just like Daniel Varsky.
Interspersed in these stories are the stories of Lotte Berg and her husband who live in London. In 1970 Lotte gave the desk to Daniel Varsky because ... well, I’m not sure why. Her husband is at the same time concerned about why Lotte gave the desk to Daniel V. and who she got it from in the first place. And there’s also the story of Aaron, mentioned above. And the story of Isabel who falls in love with Yoav Weisz, brother of Leah Weisz. All of this is very well written -- beautifully written, in fact -- and there are some wonderful meditations on loss and choice and on loneliness, a feeling that pervades this book.
But somehow, the thing doesn’t hang together. The whole story of the desk as a unifying element between the stories of these people doesn’t hold up for me. The connections feel contrived, the rationale for much of the action feels unlikely, and some of the behavior is just bizarre. And there’s a peculiar homogeneity of voice. It seems as if all of the characters are speaking with the voice of the writer. The New York writer, the Liverpudlian housewife, the Israeli doctor all sound the same.
That all said, there is much merit in the different parts of the book and I’m very glad I read it. But it did feel more like a collection of short stories than a novel.

Book Review: Bring Up the Bodies by Hilary Mantel  

Bring Up the Bodies
Hilary Mantel
410 pp. A John Macrae Book/Henry Holt & Company
Wolf Hall, Hilary Mantel's book before this one, introduced us to Thomas Cromwell, protegé of Cardinal Wolsey and, later, chief minister of Henry VIII. In almost any telling of the story of Henry, Cromwell is depicted as a Machiavellian, amoral, devious schemer. Mantel takes a more subtle brush to limn her portrait and presents us with a much more complex man, one motivated by urges other than raw self-interest. Here is a man who loves his wife, worries about his son, is loyal to his friends but is capable of uncompromising ruthlessness. He is a man of prodigious talents, and possessed of a memory both vast and unforgiving.
"He is the very man if an argument about God breaks out; he is the very man for telling your tenants twelve good reasons why their rents are fair. He is the man to cut through some legal entanglement that's ensnared you for three generations, or talk your sniffling little daughter into the marriage she swears she'll never make. With animals, women and timid litigants, his manner is gentle and easy; but he makes your creditors weep. He can converse with you about the Caesars or get you Venetian glassware at a very reasonable rate. Nobody can outtalk him, if he wants to talk. Nobody can better keep their head, when markets are falling and weeping men are standing on the street tearing up letters of credit."
Those who are familiar with the story of Henry and his many marriages will not need a re-telling of the plot. In short, Wolf Hall tells the story of the replacement of Katherine of Aragon with Anne Boleyn. Anne is depicted as smart, independent and a bit of a flirt. Henry, on the other hand, is something of a dullard and probably in no way the intellectual equal of his new wife. Bring Up The Bodies is the telling of Henry’s replacing Anne, who has failed to give him a male heir, with the dowdy Jane Seymour. In both replacings, Cromwell is the agent and the king’s conscience. There is a point in Bring Up the Bodies where Henry is thought to be dead. Cromwell becomes acutely aware of his own precarious situation (surrounded by enemies) and England’s precarious situation (with no line of succession clearly in place). The tearing down and humiliation, some years earlier, of his mentor, Cardinal Wolsey, also serves as a quiet but relentless urge to vengence. At this point events start to move swiftly. The book covers only nine months with the latter half of the book covering just three weeks. The action moves swiftly and Anne Boleyn’s fate becomes horribly inevitable. Cromwell says:
"Once you have exhausted the process of negotiation and compromise, once you have fixed on the destruction of an enemy, that destruction must be swift and it must be perfect. Before you even glance in his direction, you should have his name on a warrant, the ports blocked, his wife and friends bought, his heir under your protection, his money in your strong room and his dog running to your whistle. Before he wakes in the morning, you should have the ax in your hand."
No argument is made in Bring Up The Bodies for the innocence or guilt of Anne and those accused with her. We see only how the charges are put together and left to our own conclusions.
The ending of the book is harrowing in places and the execution of Anne particularly hard to read. Indeed, both Wolf Hall and Bring Up the Bodies bring medieval England to life so vividly -- the politics, theology, cruelty and the fragility of life -- that there are moments when one has to stop and draw breath. That said, these books are well worth your while. The prose is strong and brilliantly assured, the world depicted is so vivid and the characters so real that it’s hard to stop reading.

Recipe: Rogan Josh (Indian Lamb Curry) 



This dish is one that appears at most Colcannon Christmas feasts. I don’t eat a lot of red meat but when I do I like lamb. Luckily I live not too far from a good number of Middle Eastern markets where halal lamb is to be had at very reasonable prices. Rather than get the ‘prettier’ cuts from leg or shoulder I buy the lamb that’s already chopped for stew. This has bone and fat still still mixed in but makes for a richer, tastier dish, in my opinion.
I like to cook the dish covered for a good long time and then reduce the sauce. I also think that leaving it to rest for a day improves the flavor.

1/2 cup vegetable oil
3 - 4 lbs lamb cut into cubes
3 oz fresh ginger, peeled and chopped
10 cloves garlic crushed and coarsely chopped
1 large sweet onion finely chopped

Whole spices:
12 black peppercorns
12 cardamom pods (white or green)
8 cloves
1 large bay leaf

Ground spices:
3 tsps ground cumin
2 tsps ground coriander
1/4 tsps ground cinnamon
6 teaspoons Hungarian paprika
cayenne to taste - a teaspoon is about right.
salt to taste - about a teaspoon.

Have your whole spices and ground spices ready for use.
Make a paste of the ginger and garlic. You’ll need to use some water if you’re using a blender.
Brown the lamb in batches in the oil and set aside
Add more oil if needed, then add the whole spices. Stir once then add the onions.
Sautée the onions in the oil. If you keep the heat high and keep them moving so they don’t burn, then 5 minutes should be enough.
Lower the heat and add the ground spices and sautée for a minute or two.
Now add the ginger/garlic paste, mix in well and cook for about a minute. 
Add a cup of water and deglaze any bits stuck to the bottom of the pot.
Return the browned lamb to the pot.
Add water until the meat is submerged and stir in a teaspoon or so of salt.
Cover and cook on low heat for two or more hours.
Remove the lid and cook another hour on very low heat until the sauce becomes thick.
Serve on plain basmati rice with some raita on the side.

Note: The underlying structure of this dish can be applied to many others. The sautéd onions and ginger/garlic paste are a common base in many dishes. The whole spice can also be whole cumin seeds, whole coriander seeds, mustard seeds, red pepper flakes -- whatever you think will make the dish the way you want it. Then adding the ground spice -- ground cumin and coriander are common. You might also add ground fenugreek and/or turmeric for instance.

Book Review - An Equal Music  

An Equal Music
Vikram Seth
Broadway, 1999 400 pages

I’ve not read much by this writer. Back in the 80s I read and greatly enjoyed The Golden Gate, a novel written in sonnets. I thought it worked, for the most part, and was impressed with the undertaking. The sonnet is an unforgiving form and to write a novel of modern manners and have it not end up totally contrived was, I thought, something of an achievement. I avoided his magnum opus, A Suitable Boy. I have a copy on my shelves but am saving it for a future date when I have the time to tackle its 1500 pages.
A couple of people had recommended An Equal Music, then one day I came upon it in a second-hand bookstore. It, too, sat on the shelf for a while but just this Fall I got it down.
Michael Holme, the main character, is a violinist. He plays in London with the Maggiore Quartet and is recovering (with some difficulty) from a breakdown he suffered in Vienna while studying under the tutelage of an overbearing mentor. He flees Vienna, leaving behind a possible career as a soloist and the love of his life, Julia, a pianist.
That’s the set-up and I’ll not go into too many details of the plot, which serves mostly as a starting point for ruminations on love, belonging, individuality, place in the world. It’s a rich book with much to say about a life lived in music and I heartily recommend it to working musicians, particularly classical musicians. It has some spectacularly good writing and most of the characters are richly limned. The only problem I had with it was that I disliked the two main characters and found it hard to sympathise with them. They seemed solipsistic, even narcissistic, and lacking real charm. Michael’s love affair with his violin was (to me) much more moving and understandable than the love affair at the center of the book. The fact that the book is written in a fairly relentless first-person singular doesn’t help. There is some redemption (the title of the book is a reference to that) and there is some self-understanding that comes about but -- to me -- it came a little too late for me to feel much sympathy with the main character.
Beethoven’s String Quintet in C minor, Op. 104 plays a cameo role in the book, being a reworking of a piano trio that Michael used to play with his then lover, Julia. When he discovers that Beethoven reworked it as a string quintet (with an extra viola) he becomes passionate about having the Maggiore peform it. As if an old reality could be recontextualized into a new reality. It’s quite a lovely piece -- I’ve added a link below to a performance of the Finale performed by the Fine Arts Quartet - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VymyW6xwOoo

 

Jean's Almond Toffee recipe 

Mick is usually the guy with the recipes (he’s the real cook in the band) but I’m going to butt in and share my surprisingly simple almond toffee recipe. I make many, many batches of this every year at Christmas with the intention of giving it as gifts, but a good portion of it never leaves the house...

You do it all in the microwave, and it’s dead easy. Here’s how it goes:

12 tbsp butter (that’s a stick and a half; use regular salted butter, not unsalted)
1 cup (packed) light brown sugar
1 cup coarsely chopped raw almonds
a third to a half cup of chocolate chips (I like the dark chocolate)

Line a pan of approximately 8x8 inches with foil (you need this ready ahead of time)
Put the sugar and butter in a biggish microwaveable bowl.
Microwave on high for 3 minutes, then whisk it until it’s blended.
Back in the microwave it goes, this time for 4 minutes.
Now stir in the almonds and pop it back in the micro.
Cook it about 2-4 minutes more. This is where the timing gets a little tricky. In my oven, which is not super powerful, it takes about three more minutes- you may have to experiment.
Using a spatula, pour it into the foil lined pan.
Sprinkle the chocolate chips over it. When they’ve melted, spread the chocolate evenly with a spatula. You might want to save a few chopped almonds to sprinkle on the top.
Now the hard part: let it cool

That’s it. The only tricky bit is getting the timing so that the texture comes out right. But even if you’re a little off on that it will still taste great.
Enjoy!
 

O'Toole and the Goose 

This story, "O'Toole and the Goose" was originally written for a dance-drama performance with the Heritage Irish Dance troop. Here is a version (sans dancers) for your enjoyment.

Book review: Charles Jessold considered as a Murderer, by Wesley Stace  

Set in years just before and after the the Great War, this novel is a book of narratives. It is the telling and the re-telling of the story of Charles Jessold, the story of a composer who, on the eve of the premier of his opera, ‘Little Musgrave’, murders his wife and her lover before turning the gun on himself. The plot of ‘Little Musgrave’ -- the ballad of Lord Barnard who murders his wife and her lover, the said Little Musgrave -- is only one odd coincidence. There are echoes of the story of Carlo Gesualdo -- almost an Italian version of the name Charles Jessold -- who also murdered his wife and her lover in Venosa, Italy in 1586 and later turned to writing music. All of this comes to light in the very early pages of the book. Perhaps disconcertingly so. The arch tone of the narrator coupled with the coincidences above, summoned a first reaction of “this is all too clever by half”. The first time the story is told is an account given to the police by the narrator, Leslie Shepherd, a music critic and friend of Jessold. The accepted version of events is predicated on Jessold’s alcoholism and “obsessive nature” but as the story unfolds in Shepherd’s re-telling, the story starts to take quite a different turn. The narratives of the book are the underpinng of the structure and these same narratives shift and evade. In the opera, the story of Little Musgrave undergoes an internal change of motives and consequences. Shepherd is to write the libretto, only to discover that an injured War poet is also writing for the piece. There are details about the Gesualdo murders that Shepherd promises to impart to Jessold at some point: that point never comes. Many years after the murders, a Grub Street journalist threatens to write the Jessold story as a lurid, sensationalist tabloid piece -- a narrative full of conjecture and error. This prompts Shepherd -- at the behest of his wife and of the Jessold family -- to write the true story. This true story is not at all what the family might have hoped for. Throughout the book there is much fascinating and erudite musical lore, from accounts of folksong collecting -- very much in vogue at the time -- to critical chit chat about the relative merits of various composers of the day. The prose is a joy to read, the story has many layers and resonances and I found my sympathies changing allegiance then reverting, then changing again. This is a satisfying and rich book and, much more than clever, it’s also a deeply intelligent one.
A couple of little footnotes to all of this. The author of the book, Wesley Stace, is better known as John Wesley Harding, under which name he has released at least fifteen albums. If you’d like to hear a really fine version of Little Musgrave, check out Youtube for Nic Jones or Planxty versions. The Planxty one is my favorite. (See video below!)I first came across Gesualdo in a book by Val McDermid -- ‘A Darker Domain’. Even though I love to cook, I avoid mystery novels with recipes: on the other hand I’m always pleased to take musical tips from writers such as McDermid or Peter Robinson.


Colcannon- the recipe 

I vividly recall, not long after my arrival in the U.S., being informed that corned beef and cabbage was considered to be the traditional dish of Ireland. I had only once, that I remembered, partaken of this dish and that had been served with the apologies of an English friend who served it to a gathering in her small flat in Bedford, England. A student on a limited budget, she explained that it was as far as her housekeeping would stretch. She further explained that among her parent's generation the dish was strongly associated with the rationing and other privations of WWII--in short, that it was considered a lowly dish. Well, in her hands, and with a few shared bottles of stout, it was a far from lowly dish. I have dined well on it a number of times since then--I recall a very good version at a reception in Sheridan, Wyoming when the band was playing there for St. Patrick's day.
Good and all as corned beef and cabbage can be, however, no-one in Ireland would consider it the traditional dish of the country. A nice leg of lamb, most probably, would be considered a good and celebratory repast but in terms of an old, and traditionall
y revered, dish a plate of colcannon is your only man.
Colcannon is eaten at any and all times of the year but by custom should be eaten at Halloween. Another customary treat on Halloween is Barm Brack, a type of fruit bread. When I was a child my mother would put charms in both the Colcannon and the Barm Brack--as you're supposed to do. A button meant you would remain a bachelor and a thimble meant you would remain a spinster for the coming year. A ring meant you would get married and a sixpence meant you would come into wealth--if you were a child sixpence was wealth.
There are, maybe, hundreds of recipes for this dish--just check the web for example--and many people insist that theirs is the definite article--kind of like the French with Cassoulet or the Spanish with Paella.
So, I'll be general and approximate here; this is food and you should trust your instincts.

The recipe:

1 lb. kale or other dark cabbage
3 lbs. potatoes (Yukon Golds are best)
1 onion, chopped
1 stick butter
4 oz cream
Pinch of dill
Pinch of nutmeg or mace
Salt and white pepper to taste

Cook some kale--i.e. boil about 1 lb in lightly salted water. Kale is best, I think, but not required; any dark cabbage is better than a whiter cabbage--again my opinion--but whatever you like. Don't overcook--a little crunchy is good. Start the kale before you boil the potatoes. Drain it well and keep it warm.
Boil potatoes--about 3 pounds or so, again, in salted water (it's not the same to add salt to taste later--my rule). If you can get them, Yukon Golds are good. Peel, quarter them and boil them thoroughly--20 mins or more. No skins and no lumps. (My rule.)
Saute 1 onion (chopped) in about a tablespoon of butter, for about 5 minutes. Add 4oz of cream and 2 Tbs, or more, of butter, a big pinch of dill and a pinch of nutmeg or mace.
Heat through until butter is melted--a tip: don't add cold liquids to warm mashed potatoes and expect anything other than lumpy goo--you've been warned.
Assembly: Mash the potatoes, mightily, lovingly, with a potato masher or some comparable implement. DO NOT WHISK; DO NOT PUT IN A FOOD PROCESSOR; DO NOT PUT IN A BLENDER. Just mash them and leave no lumps--it's easy.
Chop the kale or cabbage finely
Melt the rest of the stick of butter and set aside.
In a deeply warmed bowl combine mashed potatoes, kale, onion-butter-cream mix and stir gently; check seasoning - you may need to add a little salt and maybe some pepper (I like white pepper in this dish).
Serve: Make a mound of the mixture on a warm plate. On top of the mound make a "crater" and fill with the reserved melted butter. Take spoonfuls/forkfuls of "foothill" and dip in "crater."
I've eaten the above with corned beef and cabbage--with which it has a wonderful affinity; with filet mignon and Port sauce; with rashers, tomatoes and kidneys-in-their-jackets at 4am and--God forgive me--wrapped in a tortilla, microwaved and eaten, over the sink, with salsa.
Depending on what you're serving it with, you might serve stout, buttermilk or, as with the filet mignon mentioned above, a nice claret.
OK. A lot of this is up to you--it takes a little courage to make a recipe one's own. I have witnessed the "execution" of many a fine recipe by different cooks and seen some others take simple dishes on to great heights. This can be a fine dish when done right and if you take your time it will yield to you.

Enjoy.

Mick