Maple Apple Crumble

I warned you that my apples were ripening. Despite a lack of rain this year, they've done surprisingly well. Some apples were stolen by squirrels, and others didn't fare too well, but the ones still on the tree are larger than usual and taste good (of course I sampled a couple). 

We've posted a lot of apple recipes on Mystery Lovers' Kitchen, so I had to hunt for one that was a little different. This is one I found in The Apple Cookbook. I liked it because it kind of combines the seasons, with maple flavor from the spring syrup crop (no, not mine, although I did try making it one year with from a maple tree in the yard) plus the fall apple harvest. The maple gives the flavor an interesting twist.

Maple Apple Crisp

Ingredients:

1 cup granola

1/2 cup old-fashioned rolled oats

1/2 cup dark brown sugar

1/2 cup nuts (walnuts or pecans)

1 tsp. ground cinnamon

1/2 cup (1 stick) salted butter

4 large apples (I used my own Cortlands)

1/3 cup maple syrup

1 Tblsp. Lemon juice

Instructions:

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F. Grease a deep 2-quart baking dish.

In a medium bowl, combine the granola, oats, sugar, nuts and cinnamon. Blend in the butter with your fingers.

Peel, core and cut the apples into ¼-inch slices. Lay in the baking dish and sprinkle with the maple syrup and lemon juice.

Cover completely with the granola mixture and bake for 40 minutes, or until the apples are tender.

Serve with ice cream or whipped cream if you like.

Theory has it that I'll be taking off to Ireland next week, assuming I ever finish packing. Can't wait to see what they're harvesting there now! And if I ask nicely, I might get to interview Sam McNicholl, who runs Connolly's of Leap (aka Sullivan's from my County Cork Mysteries) and in addition to his music career has now started serving pizza there, with a wonderful selection. I can't wait to try Irish pizza!

On the left is Eileen Connolly (her father named the pub), and
Sam is on the right. I think I've known him since he was seven.

Comfort Food

Sometimes you just need something warm and soothing and satisfying to your inner child. Not “healthy” food—I’m sure we all eat our share of that. Not even a dessert, although desserts can be comforting in their own way. I’m talking about something that makes you feel good, period. Comfort food!

It also helps if it’s easy to make, assuming you don’t have a willing slave to cater to your every whim. And so we come to . . . macaroni and cheese. I know, not terribly original—we’ve got some lovely recipes here on Mystery Lovers’ Kitchen. (Any one of you cooks here, raise your hand if you don’t have a mac & cheese recipe tucked in your recipe collection!)

I wanted simple. I wanted basic. I wanted a mega-dose of cholesterol—I can diet tomorrow. And I found a great recipe in a pasta cookbook I’ve had for years. It dates from 1996, and it was sponsored by Mothers Against Drunk Driving (I have no idea why I have this, but it's a testament to the fact that I never throw anything away, least of all books).. And the recipes are sinfully good.

In case the original recipe wasn’t rich enough, I substituted heavy cream for half of the (whole) milk. I used full milk cheddar cheese—none of the “lite” stuff. And since this was a main dish for dinner, I added a half pound of diced ham.

Heart-Stopping Macaroni and Cheese

Ingredients:

8 oz. (2 cups dry) elbow macaroni or similar pasta

1/2 cup butter (one stick)
1 medium onion, finely chopped
3 Tblsp all-purpose flour
1 tsp dry mustard
salt and pepper to taste

2 cups milk (or cream), heated

2 cups (8 oz.) shredded medium or sharp cheddar cheese

1 cup soft bread crumbs


Instructions:

Cook the macaroni according to the package directions. Drain well.

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.

Melt 1/4 cup of butter in a large saucepan. Add the onion (I happened to have half a red onion left over, so I used that) and saute until soft. Stir in the flour, mustard, salt and pepper. Cook, stirring, until bubbly.

Slowly whisk in the milk/cream (make sure there are no lumps) and cook, stirring, for 5 minutes or until the mixture thickens.

Add the grated cheese and stir until melted.

Add the macaroni (and the ham, if you're using it) and mix gently.

Spoon the mixture into a greased 1-1/2 quart baking dish. (Don’t you love the vintage Corning Ware casserole? It was my mother’s.)

Melt the remaining 1/4 cup butter in a skillet. Add the bread crumbs and cook over medium, stirring, until golden (don’t let them burn!). In theory you could skip this step, but the sautéed crumbs give a nice crunch to the dish. Sprinkle the crumbs over the macaroni.

Bake uncovered in a 400-degree oven for 20 minutes. Serve immediately—and wallow in the experience. You’ll definitely feel better!

Here's a mini-contest for you! The 7th County Cork mystery came out this month (The Lost Traveller), and I've just finished the draft of the next one--which doesn't have a name yet. But one important thing that happens in that book: Maura and friends are improving the kitchen at Sullivan's, so they can serve food! Believe it or not, the "real" pub (Connolly's) is doing the same thing. When I was there this past summer, I always stop in (sometimes on music nights). This time I walked around the corner to the back entrance and discovered that what had been the kitchen now looked like it had been hit by a bomb. But the old one wasn't big enough to make meals for a crowd, so they're expanding it just a bit.

The contest? Rose Sweeney will be doing most of the cooking at Sullivan's. What dishes would you like to see her make for the pub? I'll draw one name for the person who will win a copy of The Lost Traveller.

Irish Porter Cake

Porter cake is traditionally served around St. Patrick’s Day in Ireland, or so say a lot of recipes. But when I was visiting Eileen Connolly—the Connolly who gave her name to Connolly’s of Leap, the model for Sullivan’s Pub in my books—I walked into her kitchen while she was baking a batch of loaves to give as Christmas gifts to friends. The room smelled wonderful, and she shared a warm loaf with me. What could be better? Sitting in the “real” pub with a hot-from-the-oven cake and a cuppa tea and talking with a friend about the business so I could write about it later? Perfect.

She wouldn’t part with the recipe, but her secret is to marinate the various raisins in Guinness overnight.

A lot of recipes call for candied fruit, which you’d find in a fruitcake. I can’t stand the stuff—and Eileen didn’t include any (maybe we’re related after all?)

The result is a soft, rich, dark cake, which if you warm it up a bit goes well with some butter. It’s not quite a fruit cake (everybody’s not-favorite loaf).


Irish Porter Cake (thank you, Eileen!)

Ingredients:

1-1/3 cups currants
2 cups raisins
2 cups golden raisins
1 bottle Guinness (assuming you don’t have a keg handy)

Soaking

Everything else

1 cup butter, at room temperature
1 cup soft dark brown sugar

4 cups flour
spices (cinnamon, cloves, allspice, nutmeg) – at least a couple of teaspoons of each
Pinch of salt
1 tsp baking soda
grated rind of one lemon
3 eggs, beaten together


Instructions:

Mix the currants, raisins and sultanas with the Guinness in a large bowl and let soak overnight.

On the day of baking, preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Drain the raisin mix well. Grease whatever pan(s) you're using (see below) and line with parchment paper.

Cream together the butter and sugar until light and fluffy.

Sift together the flour, spices, salt, baking soda and lemon rind. Gradually add the mixture to the butter-sugar mixture, alternating with the eggs.

Mix the raisin mix into the batter by hand. Note: this will be stiff!

Spoon the mixture into a greased and lined 9" round cake pan, or 2 4 x 8-inch loaf pans (easier to give as gifts).

Bake in the preheated oven until a skewer comes out clean (start checking after an hour, but it may be a bit longer). Cool for 20 minutes in the pan before turning it out on a wire rack.

The cake’s flavor improves with age if you let it sit for a couple of days. Wrap with foil while still warm to keep moist.

And share with friends!

And now for the giveaway! I’d send you a loaf of the cake, but I don’t think it would survive the trip (besides, I’d have to admit to our nice post office employee that it’s perishable, right?). So instead I’m offering this very useful small jar to keep whatever you like it (pennies for your next holiday fund? spices? lost buttons?). Oh, all right, it's for cat treats--I'm just a bit biased, with three of the critters.

PLUS a copy of the latest of any of my series: A Turn for the Bad (County Cork Mysteries), Seeds of Deception (Orchard Mysteries) or Dead End Street (Museum Mysteries), in print or e-format. 

It was the lovely spicy smell of the porter cake that drew me into Eileen’s kitchen (and kept me there for an hour or more). What smell of baking means “holiday” to you? (Or if nobody in your house bakes, is there another scent that reaches you?) Leave a comment and I’ll draw a winner.

And happy holidays to you all! 

An Irish Thanksgiving

by Sheila Connolly

All things willing (in these uncertain times), I am now in Ireland not celebrating Thanksgiving. In part that’s deliberate: I always think of the American version of Thanksgiving as an event that should be shared with friends and family and even hungry strangers. It is a celebration of survival under challenging circumstances. I applaud those early settlers (and the Indians who helped them) in Plymouth, close to my home. But I don’t have any family in the area, and I always forget to make a reservation at Plimoth Plantation for their annual dinner, because you have to sign up in June. So I take the easy way out and leave the country altogether.

Sorry, I couldn't resist--I saw this
in Dublin.

The Irish do not celebrate American Thanksgiving. They regard Samhain as their harvest festival, if they think about it at all. They do not eat turkey on any particular day in November, but save those birds for Christmas dinner.

But! There is a theory that without an Irish contribution, that first Thanksgiving wouldn’t have happened. Actually it was first held in February 1621 (the November date came along courtesy of Abraham Lincoln in the 19th century). The Pilgrims were starving, having landed only a couple of months before with inadequate supplies in the midst of a New England winter. They were saved by a ship called The Lyon bearing food…that sailed from Dublin! And this isn’t just Irish propaganda, nor did I make it up: it was the Boston Post newspaper that first reported it, decades ago. So let’s give the Irish at least a little credit.

Oh, you wanted a recipe? Have I mentioned before (a few dozen times) how good Irish food is these days? I want to take up residence in the Fields market in Skibbereen, with the occasional excursion to the year-round farmers’ market down the street. That’s one reason I like to rent a cottage with a kitchen—so I can take advantage of all the great fresh ingredients. And bread. And cakes.

But back to the point…one of the premier cooking schools in Ireland (and just about anywhere) is Ballymaloe Cookery School, which happens to be located in County Cork. (They even have an annual literary festival now—I’m still angling for an invitation.) It is managed by Darina Allen, and her recipes lean toward locally-grown, fresh products, simply prepared. So here’s a side-dish that you can use for Thanksgiving or Christmas or any time you want some Irish comfort food. (One note: this dish is said to have originated in Northern Ireland, but Ballymaloe is clearly at the south end of the country, so I’ll claim this version for County Cork!)

Pea and Parsley Champ

Champ is a traditional Irish dish, made with (you guessed it!) potatoes and butter and milk, and often scallions (aka green onions). This one is a little different. It’s a nice change if you’re bored with the usual plain mashed potatoes with your turkey.

Ingredients:

2 pounds potatoes suitable for mashing (i.e., not the waxy ones but the floury ones like Russets, maybe with a few Yukon Gold thrown in)
Salt and freshly ground pepper
1-1/4 cups whole milk
1-1/2 cups small peas (fresh is best, but may be hard to find this time of year, but the frozen ones work fine—just thaw them first)
1/2 cup parsley, chopped
2-4 Tblsp butter (Irish butter! Available everywhere!)

Wash the potatoes (do not peel). Put them in a large saucepan and cook in boiling salted water until they are tender (and a knife pierces them easily). Drain, then return to the pan and let them dry over low heat for a couple of minutes. Mash them while they’re hot. Since there are still skins, this won’t be a puree, exactly.

In another pan, bring the milk to a low boil and add the peas. Simmer just until the peas are done. Drop in the chopped parsley for a minute or so at the end. 

Add the milk mixture to the mashed potatoes and check for seasoning. Add the butter and beat until light and fluffy. The mixture should be moist. 

Serve immediately. (But to tell the truth, my mother used to make mashed potatoes for Thanksgiving and keep them in a large ceramic or glass bowl over a saucepan of barely boiling water. The potatoes didn’t cook any more, but they stayed nice and warm.)

And now you have a pretty green and white dish of fluffy potatoes to go with your turkey!

If I'm lucky, here's where I'll be celebrating my
Thanksgiving, in my favorite pub, Connolly's
of Leap, soon to celebrate their grand reopening!

And if you're looking for more stories about Connolly's, er, Sullivan's Pub, A Turn for the Bad will be released in February 2016!

Preorder it at Amazon or Barnes and Noble.


www.sheilaconnolly.com