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Music : “Food Glorious Food” from On Top Of Spaghetti by Juice Music. Released: 2008.
Attorney jokes aside, there is probably a law on the books against eating Dublin Lawyers. However, apparently there is no such law in France, as you can easily eat “avocat”, which translates into both “lawyer” and “avocado”. “Je suis avocat” means “I am a lawyer”, versus “Je suis un avocat“, which means “I am an avocado”. Take your pick.
So, what then, is a “Dublin Lawyer“? According to Georgina Campbell, author of “Good Food from Ireland“, a Dublin Lawyer is a rich dish of lobster, butter, double cream and Irish whiskey. Whew!
How about digging into “Skirts and Bodices“? Monica Sheridan, in “My Irish Cook Book” indicates that “Bodices” is the local name for pickled spareribs, akin to the boned bodices grandmothers used to wear. The “Skirts” are the trimmings cut away from pork steak. So there you have it: Skirts and Bodices.
Fancy some “Punchnep“? No, there is no alcohol in it. “Nep” was an old name for root vegetables such as parsnips or turnips, according to Theodora Fitzgibbon, in “A Taste of Wales in Food and in Pictures“. I assume the “punch” comes from the fact that the vegetables are beaten with butter and cream. Ever dined on a “Bookmaker’s Sandwich“? According to Theodora Fitzgibbon, in “A Taste of Ireland“, it is essentially a steak sandwich on a long crusty loaf, akin to a submarine sandwich (or Po Boy, or Hoagie, or whatever you want to call it).
It pays to know your Tiddley Winks from your Kiddleywinks. As a child, I used to play Tiddley Winks and I think they still manufacture them.
Kiddleywinks, however, stems from “kiddley”, or kettle broth, a sort of whatever-you-have-in-your-kitchen soup, with the addition of winkles or periwinkles, a shellfish. Vida Heard in “Cornish Cookery” says that Kiddleywink soup “…had to provide something to fill alcohol-enfeebled stomachs and at a minimum cost“. According to Wikipedia, Kiddleywinks is also known as Kiddlywink and is an old name for a Cornish beer shop or beer house, which became popular after the 1830 beer act. They were licensed to sell beer or cider by the Customs & Excise rather than by a Magistrate’s Licence which was required by traditional Taverns and Inns.
Ever eaten “Kidneys in their Overcoats“? How sensible.
In Ireland, is there a “Champ” of “Boxty“? Is that the winner of a boxing match? No, “Champ” is similar to mashed potatoes, with milk, salt, pepper, butter, and chives. “Boxty” is a tad more difficult to explain. According to Georgina Campbell, “Boxty” falls into three categories: bread or cakes (“boxty on the griddle”), pancakes “boxty on the pan”), or boxty dumplings. All contain potatoes and milk.
Contrary to popular belief, there are no rocks in “Glengarvie Rock Cakes“, according to author of “Highland Fling Cookbook“, Sara Walker. Rather, these small cakes, when out of the oven, will have little lumps sticking out all over them. Care to take a wild guess what “Achiltibuie Skirlie” is? (hint: it has onions and oatmeal in it and Achiltibuie is a small village on the west coast of Coigach in the Highland region of Scotland). What about “Katt Pie“? (note: no cats were harmed in the making of this dish).
One just has to ask about “Thunder and Lightning“. According to Vida Heard, “Thunder and Lightning” is the “…name given to splits eaten with a spreading of treacle...” Well, that certainly clarifies things, doesn’t it?
Ever fancied a “Veiled Country Lass“? Now before you get all worked up, it’s a sort of trifle made with bread crumbs, raspberry jam, and baby food apple puree.
“Poor Knights” contains bread, jam, cream, egg and milk. The origin of this name is unknown, at least to this writer.
Now, being Canadian, I took objection to the recipe for “Canadian Salad” in “Cooking in a Bedsitter” by Katharine Whitehorn. The recipe: “Two tomatoes and an orange sliced up and covered with a dessertspoon of tomato ketchup mixed with a little of the orange juice“. No self-respecting Canadian would ever make such a concoction, I’m certain, and it certainly doesn’t appear in any of the many Canadian cookbooks I have in my collection.
But, no matter where you go, no matter what culture’s food you are sampling, there is probably one universal recipe that everyone can relate to. Katherine Whitehorn refers to it as “Spam Fritters“. Need I say more?
And so, readers, I leave these recipes for you to interpret: “Brithylla Chig Moch“, “Golwythau cig dafad“, and “Tafell o gig llo rhost“. Have fun!