I am not of farming people. Tilling, silage and slurry are all foreign concepts to me, though concepts that the welly-wearing, tractor-driving, fine bit o' bread and buhher eating Mr 9BR has been doing his best to educate me in on since I moved to Ireland three years ago. Despite my lack of horticultural leanings, lately my weekends have been spent squelching around my garden, cursing the slugs, picking the weeds and feeling very Polly-Anna-esque. As I mentioned in a previous post, we are putting our tiny garden space to work growing food that with any luck will feature on this blog in the near future.
Last week we replanted the spuds which were too crowded, and some ambitious little tubers made good their escape from the tangle of roots, rolled out into the wide open air, only to shortly make their way onto the dinner table that evening. This is my favourite way to prepare potatoes, the simplicity of the ingredients let the humble spud have it's moment in the spotlight.
Mr 9BR's rare steak plays second fiddle to the mound of potatoey goodness
Two handfuls of the tiniest of potatoes, each about 6cm in length, I used Kirrs Pink and Roosters
Rock or Sea Salt
Cracked Black Pepper
Par-boil the potatoes for 5 minutes in plenty of salted water
Drain and leave to cool slightly
Heat the grill element in the oven
Spread the spudeens in a single layer on an oven proof tray or on the grill tray
With the heel of your palm crush each potato slightly
Drizzle with Olive Oil, and crush the rosemary between your hands to release the aromas before sprinkling over the potatoes.
Season and fire under the grill until golden and slightly crispy
While I have now grown to love my wellies, I am not sure I would make a good farmer, having eaten the entire yield of potatoes in one sitting!
Well deserved Speakeasy 'Prohibition Ale' after a day of shoveling.