SHAMROCKZ N SHENANIGANS

When I was in high school, I had this kind of awesome English teacher, Dr. D. Freshman year, he thought I was a brainiac and writing machine and was really nice and encouraging to me in that rare genuine, non-sleazy way. Of course, being a youthful snot, I though he was "weird," and probably also "annoying," and so I totally didn't appreciate it. Anyway, I had him again my senior year and he really stepped up his game as a teach and all-around ok influence, although my head was regrettably no less up my ass then. My point is, in addition to being an all right teacher who learned me many things, he turned me on to two items of major importance: Harold and Maude and Irish breakfast, both of which he unleashed on a classroom full of mainly worthless and unappreciative English students on our last day of high school.

Although I abstain from the animal products, the glory of Irish breakfast remains fully intact for me, even if it is kind of a festival of carcass. Traditionally, and I guess it varies depending on the region, it's just a big ole "fry-up," featuring lots of traditional gross Irish meats, taters (such as boxty, champ, or colcannon), and veggies (really just tomatoes and mushrooms), all hanging out on your plate like a happy, greasy family. Add Irish coffee, various boozes and stouts, tea, baked treats with lots of butter and jam and marmalade, and life is pretty good. And people love getting together and drinking on Sunday afternoon! Holy shit do they love it. And really, who isn't half/part/all Irish, and what's funnier than making fun of the spectacle of corny-ness that is Irish-American pride? Nothing!! So starting about seven years ago, me and my friend Sam were the originators of Irish breakfast. The basic menu usually includes bangers, rashers, various puddings (snausages), a shitload of taters, scones, tea, baked beanz n' booze. We cooked it all up and people came over with beer and whiskey. We ate and drank ourselves silly, got shitfaced, and usually ended up playing Nintendo 64, watching a movie from the Leprechaun horror franchise, and then going out to drink some more.

Sorry for waxing all kinds of nostalgic, but it's a freakin' awesome tradition you guys! My point being, this year was no less awesome. The BF has very capably taken the reins of all things carnivorous, and this year made the pilgrimage to the The Butcher's Block in Sunnyside to procure the much-loved thick Irish bacon, aka rashers. We usually have bangers, which are technically more English, but this year we opted for more rashers at the expense of the bangers. They were out of black pudding, so he only got white. Still, the meaty line-up looked pretty solid (I somehow neglected to photograph it). To add to the awesomeness, we had the additional culinary skillz of a certain magical kitchen leprechaun, who basically saved us from the brink of insanity. Thanks, dude!

For my part, my competence at baking took a major beating last week, and I seriously almost served a big heaping trayful of nothing at the party. First, I tried making vegan Yorkshire puddings, kind of a daunting task to begin with, but that quickly became a moot point when I did something I never do and totally carelessly left out a kind of important ingredient, and they didn't rise and were gross. Then I burnt a big, beautiful soda bread. THEN, I fucking burnt the most moron-proof thing to make ever - scones. I was seriously stressing, but managed to rally and get my shit together and make:

Beer Bread with Currants and Millet



This little guy was easy as pah to make, and is the hybrid of a recipe from Veganomicon and one from Edible Brooklyn.

Basically, you heat a tespoon of canola oil in a pot. Then you toast half a cup of dry millet, til it gets... uh... toasteh (like two or three minutes, says Veganomicon). Then splash in a cup of boiling water in dump in one and a half cups Zante currants (you know, the not crazy expensive kind) and cover that bad boy right up. Cook the mixture over low heat until the liquid is absorbed, about 18 to 20 minutes. [edited April 5, 2008: the currant-millet mixture in the above lazy recipe is good for two loaves of bread, not one! So if you're just making one loaf, halve this bad boy and you're all set. Sorry for the lazy recipe blogging!]

Meanwhile, back at the lab, sift together one and a half cups each white all purpose flour and whole wheat pastry flour. Mix in one half a cup sugar. Crack open a 12-oz bottle or can of beer (I used a Yuengling Black and Tan, but it can really be anything), and mix that on in there. Mix in two tablespoons melted butter, and fold in [half! I suck!] your cooked and cooled millet-currant mixture. Pop in a preheated 350-degree oven for about an hour, opening the ov but once, about three minutes before done time, to melt a little more butter on there. Cool, slice and nom...

Chocolate Stout Cupcakes from Vegan Cupcakes Take Over the World. HOLY CRAPPER these were good! If I do say so myself. Like, maybe my faves ever. There was a super cocoa-y crumb topping layer hiding under all that glorious powdered sugar, and a redonkulously moist chocolate cupcake, made with vegan stout, underneath that. (I looooove Samuel Smith Oatmeal stout. So nutty and chocolatey and awesome. Nooom... )



Oooh, and I almost forgot! More rosemary oven fries. I'm developing an addiction to both making and eating them. Damn.



Some decor. We like a good theme.





Oh, and we took a break from the Leprechaun this year and watched our favoritest movie ever, The Wicker Man. It's of course Scottish, but we play fast and loose with our Irish stereotypes. We also eased up on the House of Pain this year in favor of the sweet sounds of Mellow Candle. I think (hopefully) a bloated, drunken good time was had by all.