That was an easy lesson. Local brown bread recipes proved harder to pin down. At the Bride View Bar, Ann Marie, a fresh-faced lass with curly blond hair and a crisp white linen blouse, pleasantly refused to give away her brown bread recipe. She did divulge—in a conspiratorial whisper—that she uses a secret ingredient, and that it is not the cornmeal I had suspected. Gaby, our gracious proprietress at the Bellevue Bed & Breakfast in Baile an Cuainin confided that she includes treacle (syrup) and black walnuts in hers.
The short, round hostess at Jim Edwards’ restaurant declined to give me her recipe, but cheerfully consented to explain the subtleties and secrets of other people’s brown bread: “Some add an egg, some use sugar, white or brown, or extra treacle for more sweetness; some prefer sour milk over buttermilk; and be certain to sift the soda!” Another source—who declined even to be named—mentioned that if you line the loaf pan with buttered parchment, it will ensure that the crust stays moist, and the bread will keep for four or five days, rather than the usual one or two.
After my diligent investigation of brown bread and beer, I thought I understood a good portion of Ireland’s rich, dark culinary heritage, but Gaby had one more surprise for me: a breakfast of Clonakilty black pudding. Although it isn’t really pudding, it is really black, and it is served in soft, sausage-like discs, each about an inch and a half in diameter and three-eighths of an inch thick, regularly studded with pale kernels of what turned out to be barley. The kernels had just enough bite that they each popped—a bit like caviar—under the tooth, after which the pudding was bulky enough to fill the mouth roundly, with a rich creaminess. The whole of it was perfectly seasoned, salty enough to compel another bite, and with just a tease of pepper, that came onto the tip of my tongue well after I had swallowed the rest, each morsel suggested that another mouthful might very well be in order. What ultimately seduced me was the generous texture—the gentle pop, a creamy chew, and only then the peppery suggestion. This could easily become my favorite food, except for the fact of what it is: Blood.
