Fried flour dumplings
A Jamaican Sunday breakfast plate nearly always has fried dumplings on it, golden rounds with a crisp shell and a soft, slightly chewy centre, served beside ackee and saltfish, callaloo, or simply split with butter and a cup of cocoa tea. Many families still call them johnny cakes. The dough is just flour, a little baking powder, salt and water, and the mistake people make is overworking it, which gives tough, heavy dumplings; knead only until smooth. Fry them over medium heat, not high, so the middle cooks before the outside browns. Chef's tip: press a thumb into the centre of each ball before frying, which helps it cook evenly and stops it puffing into a hollow ball.
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The Derbyshire market town of Bakewell in the Peak District is home to the Bakewell pudding, and its descendant, the Bakewell tart, is the one baked in every English home and village tea shop. Shortcrust is spread with raspberry jam and filled with a soft almond frangipane, then scattered with flaked almonds. Chef's tip: spread the jam thinly and leave a 1 cm border, or it boils up through the frangipane.
Simnel cake is England's Easter fruit cake, once baked by girls in service to take home on Mothering Sunday and now the centrepiece of Easter tea. A light fruit cake has a layer of marzipan baked through the middle and more on top, decorated with eleven marzipan balls for the apostles, leaving out Judas. Chef's tip: wrap a band of baking paper round the outside of the tin; it stops the edges drying out during the long, slow bake.
In many Moroccan homes, coffee is bought ready-mixed from the roaster with a spoonful of 'attria', a warm blend of ground spices such as cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg, cardamom, black pepper and toasted sesame, that gives it a rounded, gently peppery aroma. It is brewed in a pan or a pot and sipped black and sweet, or with a splash of milk, after lunch, with pastries for guests, or on cold mornings. The spices soften the bitterness and make the whole kitchen smell wonderful. This home version mixes the spices into ordinary ground coffee. Chef's tip: keep the coffee at a bare simmer and never let it boil hard; vigorous boiling, the usual mistake, extracts bitterness from both coffee and spices.
No fish and chip shop in the North of England is complete without a tub of mushy peas, and in Nottingham and Leeds they are sold with mint sauce from pea stalls at fairs. Dried marrowfat peas are soaked overnight with a little bicarbonate of soda, which softens their skins, and then simmered until they break down into a thick, savoury green mash. Chef's tip: rinse the soaked peas very well, or the bicarbonate leaves a soapy taste.
Manchester tart is the school-dinner pudding generations of Mancunians remember: a shortcrust case spread with raspberry jam, filled with thick, cold vanilla custard and covered in desiccated coconut, sometimes with a glacé cherry on top. It is a nostalgic Northern bake for birthdays and school reunions. Chef's tip: make the custard really thick and cool it a little before pouring, so it sets in clean slices.
Saffron buns, called 'tea treats' in parts of Cornwall, were handed out at Sunday school outings and chapel tea treats, and they still glow yellow in bakery windows from Penzance to Truro. A pinch of saffron steeped in warm milk colours a soft, enriched dough studded with currants and peel, so they taste gently floral and fruity. Eat them split and spread with butter or clotted cream. Chef's tip: steep the saffron overnight for the deepest colour and flavour.
A cream tea is the West Country's afternoon treat: warm scones, clotted cream and strawberry jam with a pot of tea, served in tea gardens across Devon and Cornwall. In Devon the cream goes on first and the jam on top; in Cornwall it's the other way round, and the argument never ends. These scones are plain and light so the cream and jam shine. Chef's tip: cut straight down with the cutter and don't twist it, or the scones rise lopsided.
The Chelsea bun was the speciality of the Old Chelsea Bun House in London in the 1700s, where crowds queued on Good Friday; today the coiled, sticky bun is a bakery classic across England. A soft dough is spread with butter, brown sugar, currants and spice, rolled up, sliced and baked snugly in a tin so the buns rise into each other and come out square-sided. Chef's tip: pack the slices tightly; it is the squeeze that gives them their shape and soft edges.
Hot cross buns are eaten toasted with butter on Good Friday across England, and London bakeries have sold them for centuries to the old street cry 'one a penny, two a penny'. The soft, spiced dough is full of currants and orange peel, and the cross on top is piped from a simple flour paste before baking. Chef's tip: let the dough rise somewhere really warm; spiced, fruited dough is slow and needs patience.
Shortbread is Scotland's most famous bake, handed round at Hogmanay with a dram and packed in tins as a gift all year. The classic recipe is one part sugar, two parts butter and three parts flour, with a little rice flour for the sandy snap; it is shaped into a round and cut into petticoat tails, a shape linked with Mary, Queen of Scots. Chef's tip: bake low and slow so it stays pale gold; brown shortbread tastes bitter rather than buttery.
Oatcakes have been baked on girdles across Scotland since oats were the country's main grain, and they are still eaten with cheese, smoked fish or marmalade, and alongside soup on cold days. Medium oatmeal is bound with a little melted butter and hot water, rolled thin and baked until crisp and nutty. Chef's tip: work quickly while the dough is warm; as it cools it cracks and won't roll.
Dundee cake is the light, buttery fruit cake from the city of marmalade and jute, said to have been created by the Keiller family to use up their orange peel. Instead of marzipan and icing it is topped with concentric circles of whole blanched almonds, and it is eaten at Christmas and with afternoon tea. Chef's tip: lay the almonds on gently without pressing; if they sink they burn and the pattern is lost.
From mid-April until 24 June, Spargelzeit takes over Baden, and the little town of Schwetzingen near Heidelberg holds its asparagus market in front of the palace. The thick white spears are peeled, simmered with a pinch of sugar and a knob of butter, and served on a warm platter with new potatoes and a jug of hollandaise, often as a meal on its own. The sauce is thickened with egg yolks warmed gently to about 70 °C, which also takes them past the safe point. The common mistake is peeling too lightly: the woody outer layer stays stringy, so peel generously from just under the tip. Chef's tip: save the peelings and ends to simmer in the cooking water first; it makes the spears taste far more of asparagus.
Herring was the silver fortune of Killybegs and the Donegal coast, when the boats came in loaded through the autumn, and the cheapest supper in every fishing village was fresh herring rolled in oatmeal and fried. The oats make a nutty, crunchy crust around the rich, soft fish. Serve with boiled potatoes and a wedge of lemon or a spoonful of mustard. Chef's tip: press the oats on firmly and let the fish sit for 5 minutes before frying, so the coating sticks.
Bacon and cabbage is the Sunday dinner and the everyday dinner of rural Ireland, cooked in farmhouses from Tipperary to Mayo long before corned beef became the emigrants' version. A joint of cured pork, usually collar or loin bacon, is simmered gently, then the cabbage is cooked in the same salty, porky water, and both are served with floury potatoes and a white parsley sauce. Chef's tip: soak the bacon joint overnight in cold water if it is very salty; ask your butcher, as some cures are milder.
The full Irish, or simply 'the fry', is the big weekend breakfast served in B&Bs from Donegal to Kerry and in Dublin cafés before the match. It differs from the English breakfast in its back rashers, black and white pudding, and fried soda bread or potato bread to mop up. It contains pork: sausages, rashers and puddings. Chef's tip: cook in stages in one large pan and keep each item warm in a low oven, so everything reaches the plate hot together.
Dublin Bay prawns are not prawns at all but langoustines, the small orange lobsters landed at Howth and Clogherhead and once sold off the boats along the north Dublin coast. Seafood bars in Howth serve them split and grilled under a sizzling garlic, lemon and parsley butter, with brown bread to mop the plate. Chef's tip: they cook in minutes, so take them out as soon as the flesh turns from translucent to white.
The sheltered waters of Bantry Bay in West Cork grow rope mussels that end up in pots in every harbour pub from Glengarriff to Kinsale. Here they are steamed in Irish dry cider with leek, garlic and thyme, then finished with a spoonful of cream, giving a sweet-sour, apple-scented broth for dipping brown bread. The cider contains alcohol, which mostly cooks off; for an alcohol-free version use cloudy apple juice with a teaspoon of cider vinegar. Chef's tip: the mussels must be alive when cooked, so check every one before they go in.
Welsh rarebit, caws pobi in Welsh, is far more than cheese on toast: a thick sauce of strong cheese, mustard, Worcestershire-style sauce and ale is spread on toast and grilled until bubbling and blistered. It has been a tavern supper in Wales and across Britain for three hundred years. The ale contains alcohol, so use milk for an alcohol-free version. Many traditional cheddars use animal rennet, and Worcestershire sauce usually contains anchovy, so choose a vegetarian cheese and a vegetarian brown sauce. Chef's tip: take the sauce off the heat as soon as the cheese melts; boiling makes it stringy and oily.
Glamorgan sausages, selsig Morgannwg, are a meat-free Welsh classic from the old county of Glamorgan in South Wales, made since at least the 1800s and praised by George Borrow on his tour of Wales. Crumbly Caerphilly cheese, leek and fresh breadcrumbs are bound with egg, rolled into sausages, crumbed and fried until crisp and golden. Traditional Caerphilly is often made with animal rennet; look for a vegetarian one. Chef's tip: chill the shaped sausages for 30 minutes before frying so they hold together.
Anglesey eggs, wyau Ynys Môn, is a farmhouse supper from the island of Anglesey off North Wales: leeky mashed potato piped round halved hard-boiled eggs, covered with cheese sauce and baked until golden. It is cheap, filling and comforting, the kind of dish made on a wet weeknight with what the farm had. Use a vegetarian hard cheese, as traditional cheddar can contain animal rennet. Chef's tip: cool the boiled eggs in cold water straight away so the yolks stay yellow without a grey ring.
Roast beef is the heart of the English Sunday lunch, and in Yorkshire it comes with puddings, roast potatoes and a jug of gravy made from the pan juices. A beef joint is seared in a hot oven, then roasted more gently and rested so it slices juicy and pink, with crisp, well-seasoned edges. Serve with Yorkshire puddings, horseradish and greens. Chef's tip: rest the meat for at least 20 minutes under foil; carved straight away, its juices run all over the board.
This is a raised pork pie in the style of Melton Mowbray in Leicestershire, the hunting town whose pies were carried in saddle bags; only pies made in the area may use the town's name, so this is our home version. Chopped, uncured pork shoulder and belly, peppered and spiced with mace, is packed into a crisp hot water crust made with lard, baked with bowed sides, then filled with a savoury jelly. Eat it cold with English mustard and pickle at picnics or on Boxing Day. Chef's tip: work the pastry while it is still warm; as it cools it cracks.
The Cumberland sausage is a long, unlinked coil of coarse, peppery pork sausage from the old county of Cumberland in the Lake District, cooked whole and cut at the table. With buttery mash and a slow onion gravy it's the pub and family supper of the North West. Chef's tip: cook the coil gently in the oven, held flat with skewers, so it doesn't split and stays juicy.
The balti was born in the 1970s in the Pakistani and Kashmiri restaurants of Sparkbrook and Balsall Heath in Birmingham, an area still called the Balti Triangle. It is cooked fast in a thin steel bowl over fierce heat, so the sauce is reduced and the peppers keep some bite, and it is served sizzling in the same bowl and scooped up with a huge naan. Chef's tip: make the base sauce first and keep the final cook hot and quick; slow simmering turns it into a stew.
On the wide sands of Morecambe Bay in Lancashire, tiny brown shrimps have been caught by tractor and horse-drawn nets for centuries, boiled on the boats and picked by hand. Potted in butter flavoured with mace, nutmeg and cayenne, they are a classic English starter, served with hot toast so the butter melts. Buy shrimps ready cooked and peeled. Chef's tip: warm the shrimps in the butter only briefly; boiling them makes them tough and rubbery.
In the tiny harbour village of Craster on the Northumberland coast, herring have been split and oak-smoked in the same smokehouse for over a century, and kippers are the classic English breakfast fish in seaside hotels and on dining cars. A kipper is cold-smoked but not cooked, so it must be heated through; grilled with butter it turns rich, salty and smoky. Serve with brown bread and butter, a poached egg or a squeeze of lemon. Chef's tip: grill them skin-side up first so the skin crisps and the flesh stays juicy.
The parmo is Middlesbrough's own takeaway dish, said to have been created by an American soldier who settled on Teesside after the Second World War, and it's sold in boxes with chips across the town on a Friday night. A flattened, breaded chicken breast is fried, then covered with white sauce and a thick layer of cheese and grilled until bubbling. Chef's tip: bash the chicken to an even 1 cm, so it cooks through before the crumb burns.
Steak and kidney pudding is the steamed suet pie of old English chop houses and Northern family kitchens, the kind of dish that filled up mill workers through Lancashire winters. Beef and lamb's kidney in rich gravy are sealed in a basin lined with suet pastry and steamed for hours until the crust is soft and the filling falls apart. Chef's tip: cook the filling first; it gives tender meat and a crust that isn't soggy.
Liver and onions is a café and works-canteen classic across the North and the Midlands, cheap, quick and full of iron, eaten with mash and a dollop of gravy. Thin slices of calf's or lamb's liver are fried briefly in butter after the onions have turned slow and sweet. Chef's tip: soak the liver in milk for 30 minutes if you find its flavour strong; it softens the taste.
Beef and ale pie is the pub supper of Yorkshire and the Midlands, where brewing towns like Burton upon Trent made a dark ale gravy part of the region's cooking. Chuck steak is braised slowly in ale with onions and mushrooms until tender, then topped with flaky pastry. This recipe contains alcohol, most of which cooks off; for an alcohol-free pie use the same amount of beef stock with 1 tablespoon of malt vinegar and a teaspoon of brown sugar. Chef's tip: let the filling cool before topping, so the pastry stays crisp and puffy.
Pie, mash and liquor is the working-class lunch of the East End of London, served in tiled pie shops from Bethnal Green to Walthamstow since the 1800s. Small minced beef pies with a soft suet-style base and a crisp puff lid sit next to a scoop of smooth mash, all flooded with liquor, a thin, bright green parsley sauce. Pie shops make the liquor with the stock from stewed eels; this version uses fish or vegetable stock. Locals add chilli vinegar. Chef's tip: keep the liquor thin and pourable, like single cream, not thick like gravy.
Roast leg of lamb is the Easter Sunday lunch of England, when spring lamb from the South Downs and the West Country comes in, served with roast potatoes, spring greens and a jug of mint sauce. The sauce is the English twist: chopped garden mint steeped in vinegar and a little sugar, sharp enough to cut the richness of the meat. Chef's tip: make the mint sauce an hour ahead so the vinegar mellows and the mint flavour comes out.
Beef Wellington is the grand centrepiece of British Christmas and celebration dinners, a whole beef fillet coated in finely chopped mushroom duxelles, wrapped in thin pancakes or ham and golden puff pastry, then sliced at the table to show a pink middle. It is linked, without much proof, to the Duke of Wellington. This version wraps the fillet in crêpes instead of the usual Parma ham. The duxelles is deglazed with a splash of white wine, which contains alcohol; use a little stock for an alcohol-free version. Chef's tip: chill the wrapped fillet before it goes in the pastry so everything stays tight and the base doesn't go soggy.
The Scotch egg was sold as a travelling snack by the London grocer Fortnum & Mason in the 1700s, and it is still the picnic and pub-counter favourite of England: a boiled egg wrapped in pork sausage meat, crumbed and fried. Modern pubs serve them with a runny yolk and a dollop of piccalilli or mustard. Chef's tip: boil the eggs for exactly 6½ minutes and plunge into iced water; that sets the white enough to peel but leaves the yolk soft.
Coronation chicken was invented for the banquet of Queen Elizabeth II's coronation in 1953 by the Cordon Bleu school in London, and it became the filling of choice for jacket potatoes, wedding buffets and garden party sandwiches across England. Poached chicken is folded through a creamy, mildly spiced sauce of mayonnaise, curry paste, apricot and yoghurt. Chef's tip: poach the chicken very gently and cool it in its liquid so it stays juicy.
Kedgeree came to Britain with families returning from colonial India, who adapted khichri into a breakfast of buttery curried rice, flaked smoked haddock and boiled eggs; it was served from silver dishes at Victorian country house breakfasts and is now a weekend brunch. It is gently spiced, smoky and soft. Chef's tip: poach the haddock in the milk you then use for nothing else, and cook the rice in the poaching water for more smoky flavour.
Fish pie is a Friday supper and a family favourite from the Kent coast to Devon, where fishmongers sell a ready-cut 'fish pie mix' for it. Chunks of white fish, smoked haddock and prawns are baked in a creamy parsley sauce under a thick crust of buttery mash, so it is mild, comforting and very filling. Chef's tip: don't pre-cook the fish; it finishes in the oven and stays in big, juicy flakes.
Gammon, egg and chips is the great English pub and transport-café dinner, on the menu from roadside diners on the A1 to Devon seaside pubs. A thick steak of cured pork gammon is grilled until the fat crisps, then topped with a fried egg or a ring of pineapple (or both), next to chunky chips and peas. Chef's tip: snip the fat around the edge every 2 cm before cooking so the steak stays flat.
In early summer, families across Shiraz and the vineyards of Fars thin their vines and press the hard green grapes into abghooreh, a sharp, clean sour juice stored in bottles for the whole year. It sours khoresh, brightens salad shirazi and is splashed over kebabs and rice in place of lemon. The grapes must be truly unripe, hard and mouth-puckering; once they soften the juice turns sweet. A common mistake is skipping the boil and salt, which lets the juice ferment in the bottle. Chef's tip: let the boiled juice settle overnight and pour it off the sediment for a clear, bright abghooreh.
The fish finger sandwich is a beach-café and pub-lunch classic around the English coast from Whitstable to Brighton, and the ultimate home comfort food for anyone who grew up in Britain. Here the fingers are made from fresh cod in crunchy crumbs, piled into buttered white bread with tartare sauce and crisp lettuce. Chef's tip: cut the fish into even fingers so they all cook in the same time.
Chicken and leek pie is the Sunday-night and pub supper of southern England, made with leftover roast chicken or fresh thighs simmered in a creamy sauce with soft leeks and a little tarragon, then topped with buttery puff pastry. It is gentle, savoury and best with mash and greens. Chef's tip: let the filling cool before the pastry goes on, or the lid will sink and stay raw underneath.
In Newlyn, Padstow and St Ives, harbourside kiosks sell crab sandwiches made with the morning's catch: sweet white claw meat and rich brown body meat on buttered brown bread with a little lemony mayonnaise. It is a summer lunch for eating on the harbour wall. Buy fresh, cooked and picked crab from a fishmonger, keep it in the fridge and use it the same day. Chef's tip: keep the white and brown meat separate and use both; the brown meat gives the flavour.
Haggis, neeps and tatties is the centre of every Burns Supper on 25 January, when the haggis is piped in, addressed with Robert Burns's poem and cut open with a flourish. Haggis is a peppery, oaty pudding of minced lamb's offal, onion and spice; nearly everyone in Scotland buys it from a butcher, then simply heats it and serves it with mashed swede (neeps) and potatoes (tatties). The cream sauce has a splash of whisky, which contains alcohol; leave it out and add a teaspoon of mustard for an alcohol-free sauce. Chef's tip: wrap the haggis tightly in foil before it goes in the water so the casing doesn't burst.
The Scotch pie is the straight-sided, double-crust mutton pie eaten at half time on football terraces and bought from butchers' counters in every Scottish town, with an open rim at the top for adding gravy, beans or mash. The pastry is a hot water crust made with lard (an animal fat) and the filling is peppery minced mutton or lamb. Chef's tip: shape the pastry while it is still warm; cold hot-water pastry cracks.
Stovies, from the Scots word for stewing on the stove, is the Monday dish made from Sunday's roast all over Scotland, and the ceilidh and wedding supper served late in the evening with oatcakes and beetroot. Potatoes and onions are cooked slowly in beef dripping with the leftover meat and its jelly until some potatoes collapse into a thick, savoury mash and some stay in chunks. Chef's tip: don't stir too often; let the bottom catch a little, as those brown bits are the best part.
Mince and tatties is the weekday tea of Scottish homes and school canteens, so familiar that 'mince' is Scots slang for nonsense. Beef mince is browned and simmered with onion, carrot and a little oatmeal to thicken, then served with plain boiled or mashed potatoes and often peas. Chef's tip: brown the mince in batches until it crackles and turns properly brown; grey mince gives a flat flavour.
Devilled kidneys were a Victorian gentlemen's club breakfast in London and on country house sideboards, and they have come back on the menus of British chop houses as a brunch dish. Lamb's kidneys are dusted with flour, mustard powder and cayenne, fried quickly and finished in a peppery sauce, then piled on hot buttered toast. Chef's tip: snip out the white core from each kidney; it is tough and has a strong taste.
On the Gower peninsula near Swansea, the cocklewomen of Penclawdd have raked cockles from the estuary sands for centuries, and Swansea market still sells them beside laverbread, a dark purée of laver seaweed. Together with smoked bacon (pork) they make the traditional South Wales breakfast: laverbread rolled in oatmeal and fried into little cakes, cockles tossed in the bacon fat with pepper and vinegar. Chef's tip: soak live cockles in salted water so they spit out their sand before cooking.
Despite the name, a Belfast pastie has no pastry: it is a round patty of seasoned pork mince, onion and potato, dipped in batter and deep-fried, and served as a 'pastie supper' with chips in chip shops across Northern Ireland. It is crisp outside and soft and peppery within, and is eaten with salt, vinegar and gravy. Chef's tip: chill the patties until firm before battering so they keep their shape in the fryer.
Brown soda bread is on every Irish table, from the Aran Islands to Wexford, sliced thickly at breakfast and served beside soup or smoked salmon in pubs. It is raised with bicarbonate of soda and sour buttermilk instead of yeast, so it is mixed and in the oven in ten minutes, with a nutty, coarse crumb and a hard crust. Chef's tip: mix with a light hand only until it comes together; kneading makes soda bread tough and heavy.
Venison from red deer on the Highland estates is cooked in autumn and winter when the stalking season brings it to Scottish butchers, and a slow casserole is the warming way to eat the cheaper cuts. Shoulder is braised with red wine, juniper berries and a spoon of redcurrant jelly until tender and dark. The wine contains alcohol; for an alcohol-free version use extra stock with a tablespoon of balsamic vinegar. Chef's tip: venison is very lean, so cook it at a bare simmer; boiling makes it dry and stringy.
Balmoral chicken, named after the royal castle on Deeside, is the Scottish hotel and wedding-dinner dish of chicken breast stuffed with haggis, wrapped in smoked streaky bacon (pork) and roasted, usually with a whisky cream sauce. This version uses a peppercorn cream sauce with no alcohol. Chef's tip: make a deep pocket rather than butterflying the breast, so the haggis stays inside as it cooks.
Every Irish county has its apple cake, but it is especially loved in Armagh's orchard country and in Kerry, baked in late September when the Bramleys come in. Sharp cooking apples bake into soft, tart pockets in a buttery sponge, under a crunchy sugar and cinnamon crumb. Serve warm with custard or softly whipped cream. Chef's tip: toss the apple slices in lemon juice and sugar only at the last minute, or they release water into the batter.
Porter cake is the Dublin fruit cake made with stout, the dark beer once drunk by the porters of Dublin's markets and docks; it is baked for Christmas, christenings and wakes across Leinster. The fruit is simmered in the stout, which gives the crumb a deep, malty, slightly bitter flavour and keeps it moist for weeks. This recipe contains alcohol: most of it cooks off, but for an alcohol-free version use strong black tea or alcohol-free stout. Chef's tip: wrap the cooled cake and leave it for 2–3 days before cutting; it slices better and tastes richer.
Potato soup is what Irish pubs and farmhouse kitchens set down on a wet afternoon from Kerry to Mayo, always with a heel of brown soda bread. Floury potatoes, onion and leek are sweated in butter and simmered in stock, then blended to a velvety, comforting soup with a gentle onion sweetness. A swirl of buttermilk and chives adds freshness. Chef's tip: sweat the leeks slowly without browning them; colour makes the soup taste bitter and turns it grey.
Irish scones are the centre of afternoon tea in hotels and country houses from Galway to Wicklow, and the bake that every Irish cook makes from memory. Buttermilk makes them light and tender with a faint tang, and an egg wash gives the glossy golden top. Serve warm, split, with butter, raspberry jam and whipped cream. Chef's tip: press the cutter straight down without twisting; twisting seals the edges and stops them rising tall.
In April and May rhubarb crowns burst up in kitchen gardens all over Ireland, and the first of it goes into this plate tart, baked on an enamel plate in farmhouses from Cork to Donegal. The rhubarb is sweet-sour under a crisp, sugar-crusted lid of shortcrust. Serve warm with custard or a jug of cream. Chef's tip: sprinkle a spoonful of semolina or cornflour over the bottom pastry before adding the fruit; it soaks up the juice and stops a soggy base.
Irish coffee was first served in the 1940s at Foynes on the Shannon estuary, to cold passengers stepping off the flying boats from America, and it is now poured in hotel bars across Ireland after a long dinner. Hot black coffee is sweetened with brown sugar and laced with Irish whiskey, then topped with a layer of lightly whipped cream that you drink the coffee through. This drink contains alcohol; for an alcohol-free version, leave out the whiskey and add a few drops of vanilla. Chef's tip: whip the cream only until it just thickens, so it floats in a soft layer rather than sinking or sitting in stiff blobs.
Brown bread ice cream has been a country-house dessert in Ireland since Victorian times and still turns up on menus in Kenmare, Kinsale and Dublin restaurants. Crumbs of brown soda bread are toasted with brown sugar until crisp and toffee-like, then folded through a rich vanilla ice cream, so it tastes of caramel and malty, nutty bread. This no-churn version needs no machine. Chef's tip: let the caramelised crumbs cool and break up completely before folding them in, or they sink and clump.
Chicken and ham pie is the family supper of Irish homes from Westmeath to Wicklow, the way to stretch a roast chicken and a piece of cooked ham into another meal, and a staple of hotel carveries. The ham is pork. Both meats sit in a creamy leek and mushroom sauce under a puff pastry lid. Chef's tip: let the filling cool before putting on the pastry, or the butter in the puff melts and it won't rise.
In July and August shoals of mackerel come close to the piers from Kilmore Quay to Killybegs, and children catch them on hand lines for the evening pan. The old Irish partner for the oily fish is a sharp sauce of the gooseberries ripening in the garden at the same time, which cuts through the richness. Serve with new potatoes. Chef's tip: cook the fillets skin-side down almost all the way, so the skin crisps and the delicate flesh stays moist.
A side of poached salmon is the centrepiece of Irish wedding buffets, First Communion lunches and summer gatherings along the Moy and the Blackwater, where wild salmon once ran thick. Poached gently in a court bouillon, it stays silky and moist, and here it is served warm with a simple chive and lemon butter sauce, new potatoes and peas. Chef's tip: never let the poaching liquid boil; it should barely shiver, or the salmon tightens and leaks white curds.
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