Though my intention was to get this off in time for St Paddy’s Day, I figured it would also be a good cleansing meal for the big after-drink session. Maybe not the day after, but say after the head is fixed, when you’re back to grind, back to reality.  Perhaps you’ll pair this recipe with some brown soda bread—now we’re talking!

You’ll notice we call shrimp “prawns,” no matter what the size. Stateside we’re able to get beautiful colossal shrimp, which are considered prawns, but in Ireland prawns usually refer to bay shrimp, as they don’t get too much larger than that locally depending on where you live. Seeing as I grew up in Kerry, this was the case so I recreated this dish just as I’ve had it many times before back home. The only difference is that I made my own mayo, cutting out fat, cholesterol and calories — do you think The Healthy Irishman would do otherwise?

Continue reading “Crab & Prawn Salad” on Dancing Spoon »

This is a very special day for us, the Irish–on both sides of the pond, including the 30 million plus Irish-Americans. In honor of our national holiday I wanted to thank the Irish Voice for featuring yours truly in the St. Paddy’s Day issue out this past week. With distributions in main cities such as New York, Boston, San Fran, Chicago and Philly, I’m excited to meet and connect with fellow Irishmen/women from these areas. So if yourself is one of them, contact me!

Happy St. Patrick’s Day! Enjoy yourselves. Slainte!

Everyone’s Irish on St. Paddy’s Day. I don’t mind. The more the merrier, that’s how we Irish roll. When I first came here about 9 years ago, I was amazed at the festivities and the popularity of St. Patrick’s Day, especially the tradition of eating corned beef and cabbage. Growing up we had it every now and then but I wouldn’t say we ate it a lot. So I did a little research to find out,
Is corned beef and cabbage really a traditional Irish meal?
The cabbage part is but the corned beef–not so much, well not back in the day. Corned beef is salt-cured brisket. Traditional Irish recipes contain salt pork and bacon vs. beef protein as you’ve probably heard of ‘bacon and cabbage’. In the times of and before the Great Famine, cows were raised for dairy so the majority of Irish beef sold for consumption was exported making it expensive to purchase. It became known as a food for the rich, not the common Irish citizens. The dish was adapted by the Irish emigrants in America, where salt beef was more accessible and affordable. Eating this meal on St. Patrick’s Day has become an Irish American tradition in honor of celebrating our Irish ancestry. So for all of you who are unleashing your inner Paddy, here’s my version for your celebration.

4-5 servings

RECIPE:

2 1/2 lb corned beef brisket (already brined or see recipe below)

6 cups low-sodium chicken broth (for cooking)
4 cups water
3 bay leaves
1 bunch thyme

1 small green cabbage cut into wedges
2 lbs white potatoes – quartered

Brine Recipe: (for brisket)
1 cup sea salt
1 tbsp mustard seed
1 tbsp black peppercorns
8 cloves
3 bay leafs
enough water to cover

Directions:

The beauty of this dish, apart from the obvious of it being Irish, is that it’s a one-pot meal so all the flavor from the corned beef goes into the vegetables which means it’s full to the brim with flavor. Most supermarkets sell brined corned beef which just requires cooking. If you choose to brine your own brisket, mix all brine ingredients together in a large container. Cover brisket with enough water to keep in submerged. You can brine the brisket 1 day ahead and up to 5. The longer you brine it, the more flavorful it will be.

Once brined begin by simply adding the bayleaves and thyme to the beef in a large soup pot and cover with the broth and water. Do Not add the cabbage and potatoes. You want enough liquid in there to cover the brisket knowing it’s going to cook for 3 – 31/2 hours, so if you need to add more broth or water, do so. Bring to a boil and once boiling reduce to a simmer partially covered with lid.

Cook for 2 1/2 hours. At this stage add potatoes. After another 15 minutes, add the cabbage. Cover and continue cooking until the vegetables are cooked and the corned beef is fork tender.

To serve, trim the excess fat from the beef and slice the meat against the grain.
Serve with some of the boiled potatoes and a wedge of cabbage. Finish by drizzling some of the cooking liquid over the meat.

All you need now if a green hat and you’re off!

All recipes are made with the finest quality farmers market whole foods, natural and non-processed ingredients as much as possible.

Beef & Guinness Stew is my #1 searched recipe no matter what time of year. It was one of the recipes featured in The Irish Voice newspaper this week and for good reason if I do say so myself. Paired with homemade brown soda bread and a pint, the business!

Need the recipe?

Slainte!

Last week I made twice baked champ. This week, I’m making Ulster Champ (we Irish have many versions of potato dishes!) to accompany fresh roasted cod and blistered cherry tomatoes. Ulster Champ is named after the Ulster Provence in Northern Ireland. Traditionally homemade country butter was used as were leeks instead of peas. Personally I love peas, especially if I can find fresh peas to shuck, so it’s no surprise I love this champ version. I also love simple clean dishes and figured this would be a good one to try leading up to or after drinking your dinner of green beer.

Continue reading Roast Black Cod with Ulster Champ on Health Habits >

Remember my post a couple weeks (Roast Chicken with Apricot and Rosemary Glaze) back when I mentioned certain foods go hand in hand, like mint and lamb, apple and pork, apricots and chicken? Here’s another great combo—figs and lamb.  Not quite your grandmother’s Irish stew but the sweet and savory tastes are just brilliant together.

The beauty about figs is that they add sweetness without adding any fat. They are fat-free, sodium-free and, like other plant foods, cholesterol-free. Figs provide more fiber than any other common fruit or vegetable and are a good source of potassium, a mineral that helps to control blood pressure.

I thought the flavor of the figs blended really well not only with the lamb but with the tomatoes as well. This dish has tons of flavor so I think you’ll definitely enjoy it.

Continue reading “Lamb & Fig Stew” on Dancing Spoon»

I know for the majority of you it’s still winter so not wanting to rub your noses in it too much because I’m in LA, I figured I’d give you one of my favorite soups I grew up eating. We all know about carrots and parsnips but, as I’ve found out turnips (rutabagas) are not well known State side. I love turnips, always have so when I made them for the first time in work there was a mixed reaction.
I think they’ve gotten used to them by now. They better have–I make them often enough!
For me a turnip was the yellow variety which is technically known as a Rutabaga. It’s also commonly known as a swede in the UK, Ireland, New Zealand and Australia. I’ve had both varieties but I do prefer the taste of the yellow, probably ’cause it’s what I have always known.

This is a great soup chock full of fresh veggies and to top it off I threw in some bulgar wheat just to make a meal of it.

RECIPE:
Serves 4

1 rutabaga (yellow turnip)
3 medium carrots
1 parsnip
1 leek
1 tbsp. olive oil
6 oz Bulgar wheat
8 cups chicken or veg broth
2 bay leaves
S&P to taste
fresh dill, chopped for garnish

DIRECTIONS:

Begin by adding 1 tbsp olive oil to preheated soup pot and saute leek on medium low heat with lid on for 5-6 minutes, stirring occasionally. Once soft, add rutabaga, carrots and parsnip and saute for another 5-6 mins. Stir. Add in rest of ingredients. Bring to a boil and once boiling, reduce to a simmer for 20 mins, partially covered. After 20 mins, add in Bulgar wheat, stir and continue to simmer partially covered for an additional 20 mins or until veg is cooked through.

NOTE: Soup may require additional broth after cooking the Bulgar wheat so be sure to keep an eye on it. Add in additional if needed, to attain soup consistency desired.

Taste and season with S&P and add fresh chopped dill.

All recipes are made with the finest quality farmers market whole foods, natural and non-processed ingredients as much as possible.

GRILLED STEAK WITH TWICE BAKED CHAMP

The Irish don’t mess around with the poor misunderstood spud. We mean business when it comes to eating potatoes and since it’s almost St. Paddy’s Day, you bet I’m showcasing them! Only this traditional Irish dish has my own spin on it–twice baked and healthy.
Champ is just as authentic as it’s more famous relative, Colcannon. The main difference is the substitution of scallions or other greens for the kale or cabbage. Ask any Paddy what their favorite comfort food is and hands down Champ is in the top 5. I can remember many nights with a full belly of this brilliant inexpensive concoction. Gotta love that don’t you?
Potatoes have a bad rap for being a fat magnate but in fact, it’s just the opposite.  Continue reading Meat & Potatoes – Irish Style on Health Habits

To me, March should be dedicated to the Irish. The start of the month is about the countdown to St. Paddy’s Day, then there’s the big day itself and afterward its about recovering from all the festivities. An entire month just for us wild & crazy Paddies. But this year, St. Patrick’s Day is not only Ireland’s National Holiday its also the day the All-Ireland Club Finals (the Gaelic football and hurling senior club championships) are being played. For some this will be the highlight of their sporting year. The fact that it’s the 125th year anniversary of the GAA (Gaelic Athletic Association) is just an added bonus making the celebrations more meaningful. Talk about March Madness! Don’t fancy that headache the next morning!

Sticking to tradition of the countdown, I thought I’d highlight an article I saw when I was home last from the Sunday Tribune magazine aptly titled, Food That Only The Irish Eat (Apparently). Thank you Derek O’Conner for such an enlightening & amusing read. Read on to see O’Conner’s take as he explores the nation’s dining habits to find the food that only “we” can stomach. Not so much me in that we, though it seems we Irish do eat more than potatoes & cabbage, lamb & Guinness. But spiceburgers and boxty? I’m asking my fellow Irishmen here–am I the only one who has never eaten those?

Coddle

CODDLE
Coddle – Ah Jaysus! C’mere and give us a coddle, love! Namechecked by Jonathan Swift and Sean O’Casey as their favourite dish, coddle couldn’t be more synonymous with the nation’s capital; the fact that Dubliners have rejected it in favour of kebabs and takeaway pizza is a searing indictment of their moral and spiritual decay. That said, coddle ain’t for sissies, consisting as it does of a pungent melée of bacon produce swimming in a swamp of spuds ‘n’ onions; its origins date back to Famine times, when anything to hand, save your nearest and dearest, got thrown into the pot. It’s the fuel of the proletariat, the lifeblood of the common man – and a heart attack in a bowl. Less a meal than a veritable Proustian dining reverie, there’s eating AND drinking to be had in a bowl of coddle, especially if – as recommended – you flavour it with an auld drop or two of Guinness.

Spiceburgers

SPICEBURGERS
As a naïve young vegetarian, the author once had an extended and sincere conversation with a local chip shop owner, whereupon he was assured, beyond a doubt, that there was no meat whatsoever in spiceburgers; thusly, he spent his formative years unwittingly betraying everything that his idol Morrissey believed in. Ah, well. We bet Morrissey eats them, too. If Meat Is Murder, then a spiceburger is a slow, pleasurable death, an exotic, enigmatic creation revered and reviled in equal quantities by hardcore takeaway connoisseurs. What is a spiceburger? It’s a pivotal question that has already provoked spurious debate on the interweb, offering little by way of concrete conclusion. Even the people who make them don’t know what’s in them. These two simple things we hold as self-evident truths: (a) shop-bought spiceburgers never, ever taste as good as ones from the chipper. As WB Yeats once said, there’s nothing quite as tragic as a soggy spiceburger. No, wait, it was our Dad that said that. And (b) you can’t get spiceburgers in Donegal. We’ve tried. NB: Don’t attempt a spiceburger without a scoop of chips. Seriously. Really.

Red Lemonade

RED LEMONADE
Lemonade you can get anywhere in the world, but red lemonade….Now that’s a different kettle of coddle altogether. One of the many great mysteries surrounding Irish culture is how and when we decided, en masse, to refer to the most artificial beverages imaginable as ‘minerals’ – as in “and a mineral and a packet of Tayto for the little fella, cheers.” Indeed, a long-standing urban myth suggests that the only reason red lemonade is only available in this country is due to its innumerable side-effects, which can include rampant giddiness, an ongoing sense of ennui and the ability to talk shite for days on end. This is a lie. Red lemonade is the greatest Irish invention ever, with the possible exception of hurling. Frequently mentioned in top-10 lists of things that Irish ex-pats miss about The Auld Sod, the current government has drawn up plans to convert 50% of Irish motorcars to run on red lemonade within the next decade. Fine Gael leader Enda Kenny is already kicking up a fuss. He’s more of a Cream Soda man, see.

Boxty

BOXTY
Seriously? The only people we know who’ve ever actually eaten boxty were punters at Dublin’s ever-popular Irish theme restaurant Gallagher’s Boxty House, a place where Actual Irish People dine for solely ironic purposes. In essence, boxty is a seriously hardcore starchfest, a potato pancake much loved in and around the border counties – the word boxty is a derivative of ‘bacstai’, referring to the traditional method of grilling the absolute shite out of anything that couldn’t be boiled over an open fire. No matter how much we might try to suggest otherwise, what with our finely-honed Celtic Tiger palettes and everything, the Irish have always been about the spuds, and considering that the country’s going to/gone to hell, and we’re all broke-assed losers again, it’s time to re-embrace the auld práta. Or fata, if you’re from Connemara. A traditional rhyme goes thusly: Boxty on the griddle/Boxty in the pan/If you can’t make boxty/ You’ll never get a man. Truer words never spoken; several female friends of our acquaintance are destined to die alone and unloved, due to their stubborn refusal to master the fine art of boxty making. There’s a band called Boxty, too. They’re from France. Don’t ask. Read the rest of this entry »