Across the Kitchen Table:

In Search of Irish Soda Bread (and More Soda Bread!)

Take a Leek (or two)

Maple Syrup: The Sweet Sign of Spring

Where Crime
Doesn't Pay

Vermonters take their maple industry seriously. Late last year, a producer who was convicted of selling adulterated maple products (he packed up 500,000 pounds of cheap cane sugar and sold it as maple sugar) was given this sentence: 46 months in prison, five years of supervised release, and $342,000 in fines and penalties. The judge said his scam was "extraordinarily serious" in a state where the maple industry has a $110 million impact.

Maple syrup and sugar are produced only in the northeastern quadrant of the United States and the adjoining southeastern quadrant of Canada, where the sugar maple, Acer saccharum, flourishes. (Quebec is the leading producer, followed by Vermont, New York, and Ontario.) It takes about 40 years for a maple tree to attain the proper size—about 12 inches in diameter at chest height—to tap. A 12-inch maple can sustain one "tap" (a spigot set into a hole drilled about 2 inches into the tree); for each additional 6 inches of diameter, another tap may be added. Each tap will yield about 15 to 25 gallons of sap; since it takes 40 gallons of sap to make just 1 gallon of syrup, it helps to have a lot of big sugar maples if you want to make syrup in quantity.

Syrup makers collect the fresh sap, either in covered buckets (the picturesque way) or via plastic tubing (the efficient modern way), and boil it down outdoors to concentrate the sugar. How do they know when it’s syrup? The correct density (88 to 89 percent sugar) is reached when the boiling liquid is 7°F above the boiling point of water. (This varies with elevation and barometric pressure.)

There are a lot of tricks and know-how involved in making maple syrup. For instance, if the sap threatens to boil over, a speck of butter or other fat will settle it down. (This information comes in handy if you are cooking maple syrup on the kitchen stove to make fudge or frosting. Simply touch the foaming syrup with the tip of a buttered knife.) For more tips and how-to, go to www.dnr.cornell.edu/ext/maple.

In Vermont, where one of every four trees is a sugar maple, the locals are pretty savvy about maple syrup. Few Vermonters waste their money on the expensive Fancy grade, preferring the heartier taste of Grade A or even Grade B (the latter for use in cooking).

Many years ago I had the pleasure of a visit to the Robb family farm in West Brattleboro, Vermont, where the sugarhouse was puffing out clouds of steam and woodsmoke on a March day warm enough to melt icicles. Bertha Robb and her daughter-in-law, Helen, made pancakes, muffins, baked beans, and a sweet potato-maple-apple casserole to demonstrate the versatility of their maple syrup. We even had the quintessential Vermont treat: plain doughnuts (right out of the deep fryer) drenched in warm maple syrup and eaten with a big dill pickle.

The Robb farm is still going strong, thank goodness (go to www.robbfamilyfarm.com). Here are a few recipes that recall that sparkling March day nearly 20 years ago. For more maple recipes on the Web, go to www.massmaple.org, www.themaplestore.com, www.maple-erable.qc.ca, and www.ontariomaple.com, among others. For a thorough cookbook on this subject, check out Ken Haedrich’s The Maple Syrup Cookbook (Storey Publishing, 1989).

Maple Butternut Fudge

Sugarbush Doughnuts

These are traditionally accompanied by a sour dill pickle to cut the sweetness.

4-1/2 cups flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon (or more to taste)
3 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
3/4 cup sugar
3 tablespoons soft butter
3/4 cup milk
vegetable oil for deep-frying
1 cup maple syrup, warmed

Sift dry ingredients together. Beat together eggs, vanilla, and sugar. Mix in butter. Alternately add milk and flour mixture to egg mixture to make a soft dough. Knead lightly on a floured board and roll out to 1/2" thickness. Cut with a doughnut cutter. In a deep fryer, fry doughnuts two or three at a time in hot (375°F) oil until golden brown. Drain on paper towels and drizzle with warm maple syrup. Eat! Makes 12 to 15 doughnuts.

Maple Bran Muffins

Sweet Potato-Maple-Apple Casserole

Maple Banana Smoothie

In Search of Irish Soda Bread (and More Soda Bread!)

Irish Soda Bread from Pimblett’s

With St. Patrick’s Day fast upon us on the 17th (the date the Irish saint died in A.D. 461), it’s time to practice up on Irish soda bread, which can be sweet and tender eaten warm from the oven, or dry and crumbly with the wrong treatment. Traditionally baked over a peat fire in an iron pot, soda bread is quick to make and has a rustic, craggy appearance.

I turned first to the estimable, if not formidable, Elizabeth David, author of English Bread and Yeast Cookery, the definitive source on bread in the British Isles. Although she does refer to quick breads leavened with baking soda or powder as "chemically aerated" (which doesn’t sound too appetizing), she acknowledges that "everybody who cooks, in however limited a way, should know how to make a loaf of soda bread." The secret, she instructs, is "high-speed action" and "quick, light handling."

Mrs. David’s recipe calls for only 4 ingredients (whole-wheat flour, baking soda, salt, and buttermilk, plus a little warm water if the dough seems dry). She advises eating the bread warm, right out of the oven. Her plain, dense loaf has the flavor of authenticity about it, but it cries out for butter and jam, lots of both.

I next turned to King Arthur Flour’s 200th Anniversary Cookbook, as reliable and friendly a source as you can find. King Arthur’s "Irish Soda Bread" is softened with butter and tenderized with a small amount of cornstarch. I liked it, but my teenagers were merely polite about it. Could be my technique isn’t high-speed enough.

Time to get on the Internet. I went to www.irishfood.com and found a wild bread-machine version that included cornmeal, molasses, honey, an egg, currants, caraway seeds, and more. Too complicated! (Besides, I don’t have a bread machine.)

I consulted one of my favorite recipe archives, SOAR (Searchable Online Archive of Recipes, http://soar.berkeley.edu/recipes/), and learned a few things, among them the fact that adding raisins to soda bread earns it the name Spotted Dog. Another search led me to the Canadian Web portal Canoe and thence to http://www.canoe.ca/StPatricks/00toronto.html and a collection of Irish recipes. This one from Pimblett’s Restaurant on Gerrard Street East in Toronto sounded good, and it is, especially as an accompaniment to soup or stew.

Now I was on a roll, so to speak, and I went to one of the best baking sites, www.betterbaking.com. Several variations on traditional four-ingredient soda bread caught my eye, including Irish Breakfast Spice and Raisin Soda Bread (unique because it includes well-steeped tea among its ingredients), Irish Oatmeal Soda Bread (which incorporates McCann’s Irish oatmeal), and a Corn and Lemon Blueberry Farm Cake that is a long stretch from soda bread but not quite a cake. (This last one was my children’s favorite, no surprise. It has the most sugar.)

For those who love the simpler style of the traditional Irish soda bread, here is one more variation, called Irish Brown Bread, from a recipe taped to the bag of King Arthur’s Irish-Style Flour, a lovely, coarse-textured whole-grain flour available through their Web site, www.kingarthurflour.com.

2 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
3 tablespoons butter, cut in cubes
1 cup plus 1 tablespoon buttermilk
3 tablespoons cheddar cheese, finely grated
Preheat oven to 425°F. In large bowl, sift together flour, baking soda, and salt. Cut in butter until mixture is crumbly. Add 1 cup buttermilk and knead together until dough has a soft, elastic consistency, about 1 minute. Shape into a round ball 1-1/2 inches thick. Flatten top. Sprinkle dough with flour and place on a floured baking sheet. With a knife, score top into six wedges. Bake for 30 minutes. Brush on remaining 1 tablespoon buttermilk and sprinkle cheese on top. Bake another 15 minutes, or until risen and lightly browned. Wrap in a damp tea towel for 10 minutes. Unwrap and serve warm or at room temperature. Serve with bacon and sausages, ham for dinner, or dip into the gravy of a good Irish stew. Makes one loaf.

Irish Brown Brea

4 cups Irish flour (or substitute whole wheat)
2-3 tablespoons sugar
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon baking soda
2 teaspoons baking powder
1-1/2 cups buttermilk
2 tablespoons melted butter or shortening
1 cup raisins or currants (my own addition, which makes it Spotted Dog)

Whisk dry ingredients together in a large bowl and make a well in the center. Combine buttermilk and shortening and pour into the well. Stir just to combine; add raisins and stir enough to distribute. Place dough on a floured board and knead gently about 10 turns. Shape into a large ball, place on floured baking sheet, and cut a deep cross in the top. Bake at 400°F for about 40 minutes.

Take a Leek (or Two)

First, a word about March 1, the feast day of St. David, patron saint of Wales. On this day, a national holiday in Wales, it is traditional to eat leeks. Why? In 640 A.D., Welsh warriors under King Cadwallader wore leeks to distinguish themselves (by sight and smell) from their Saxon enemies and in the belief that leeks would make them invincible in battle. It must have worked, for the Welsh were victorious, and to this day Welsh Guards wear leek greens in their hats on St. David’s Day.

The leek, like all members of the Allium genus, is believed to be native to southwest Asia. Leeks were cultivated by the ancient Egyptians, beloved by the Romans (who probably introduced them to England), and honored by herbalists everywhere. Leek juice is believed to be good for chapped hands and chilblains, and the Emperor Nero reportedly ate leeks to clear his speaking voice. Leeks, like all the Allium cousins, are a storehouse of vitamin C, calcium, phosphorus, potassium, fiber, and many other good things.

Leeks, like garlic, grow slowly. You can start leeks from seed indoors right now, thinning to one plant per cell once they are about three inches high (use a scissors to cut out the extras rather than uprooting them). Plant leeks outdoors (in the waxing Moon, if possible) at the bottom of a narrow trench. As the plants grow, gradually fill in the furrow to keep the stems white. Harvest a few weeks before the average first frost. If you live where winters are warm, leave them in the ground and dig as needed.

Unlike onions, leeks do not form bulbs, but add layers of leaves to their thick white stalks as they grow. To prepare leeks for cooking, trim off the roots and all but one or two inches of the green portion. (You can use the green tops in soup stock.) Slice the leeks in half lengthwise and wash under running water to remove any dirt or sand trapped inside.

Leeks are the vital ingredient in French vichyssoise, Scottish cock-a-leekie soup, and other recipes where their sweet, mild flavor excels. But we’ll start with a Welsh recipe, in honor of St. David’s Day. (All recipes are adapted from Betty Cavage’s The Elegant Onion, published by Storey Communications in 1987 and now out of print.)

Welsh Leek and Tomato Salad Vinaigrette

Vinaigrette Dressing:
4 tablespoons olive oil
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1 tablespoon minced fresh parsley
1 teaspoon honey
1 small clove garlic, crushed
1/2 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
dash of salt and freshly ground pepper

Combine all ingredients in a small jar and shake well to blend.

Cock-a-Leekie Soup

The national soup of Scotland, traditionally served on Robert Burns’s birthday (January 25) to the skirl of bagpipes.

Vichyssoise

one 3-pound frying chicken, cut up
4 cups cold water
4 cups chicken stock
1 whole carrot, scraped
1 stalk celery with leaves, washed
1 cup chopped onion
1 bay leaf
1 cup finely chopped carrots
1 cup finely chopped celery with leaves
1/2 cup pearl barley
2 cups sliced leeks with tender greens
1 cup peeled, diced potato
1/2 cup dried, pitted prunes, cut into small pieces
2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley
1 cup light cream

Remove skin and loose fat from the chicken and place in a large soup pot with water, stock, whole carrot, celery stalk, onion, and bay leaf. Cover and simmer for 45 minutes. Let cool and then remove the chicken pieces, the whole carrot, the celery stalk, and the bay leaf. Discard the vegetables and bay leaf. Bone the meat, cut into bite-size pieces, and return to the pot. Add the chopped carrots, chopped celery, and barley and simmer for 20 minutes. Stir in the leeks, potato, and prunes, and simmer, uncovered, until tender (about 15 minutes longer). Just before serving, add the parsley and light cream; heat through, but do not boil. Serve hot. Makes 6 to 8 servings.

In a heavy saucepan, melt the butter with the oil. Add the leeks, onion, and celery and cook slowly until tender (do not brown). Add the potatoes and broth and simmer until potatoes are tender, about 20 minutes. Cool. Puree in a blender or food processor until smooth. Season to taste. Whisk in the cream. Cover and refrigerate for at least 4 hours. To serve, stir gently, dust with nutmeg, and sprinkle with chives. Makes 4 to 6 servings.