Irish-American soda bread

Sometimes, life gets in the way of the good stuff... like baking.

I tried to take up jogging this year -- good exercise, get healthy, lose some weight, yeah, great plan. And it looked like it was going pretty well... until late February, when I sprained my foot on a treadmill. I ended up on crutches for a week and a half, and then in a walking cast, and then weaning down to just a limp, and now, I've finally gotten rid of the limp, thanks to my awesome physical therapist, and I'm working on strengthening my ankle and hips and training myself to stand and walk correctly (who knew you could be doing such basic things incorrectly your whole life?), and I'm hoping to be able to walk and then jog again soon.

But what does this have to do with baking? Well, if you can't stand for long periods of time, or you can hold yourself up on crutches but can't carry anything across the kitchen 'cause you need both hands to hobble around, no baking happens. So I haven't been making a whole lot lately. But I did manage to try out a new soda bread recipe recently, while my husband and I were putting together a "late-Patrick's Day" dinner for ourselves, a week or so after the holiday. And this is the first soda bread recipe I've made that I actually liked, so I thought I'd share it.

Before anyone jumps down my throat, yes, I know this isn't an authentic Irish recipe. Authentic Irish soda bread is... bland. It's bread, a basic, boring bread you can use to sop up the juices from an Irish stew. This is Irish-American soda bread, bastardized from the Irish but really quite tasty. There wouldn't be raisins in authentic soda bread, and there definitely wouldn't be orange zest... but hey, we all eat General Tso's chicken, and that's not authentic Chinese food, but it's still tasty. As long as you don't try to pass off something as authentic when it isn't, I don't see the problem.

Irish-American Soda Bread
Adapted from Ina Garten

4 c flour
4 tbsp sugar
1 tsp baking soda
1 1/2 tsp salt
4 tbsp butter, cut into small chunks
1 3/4 c buttermilk
1 egg
1 tsp orange zest
1 c raisins or currants

1. In the bowl of a stand mixer, add the flour, sugar, baking soda, salt, and butter. Turn on the mixer to low speed and walk away for a while, until the butter is thoroughly mixed in and you don't see any chunks of it remaining. (You could probably do this with a hand mixer or a pastry blender, but I imagine it would take way longer. Or you could do it in a food processor, if you don't mind the annoyance of having to wash the processor when you're done.)
2. In a large measuring cup, combine the buttermilk, egg and orange zest and whisk together. Pour this into the mixer and mix to combine.
3. In a bowl, mix the raisins with a couple of tablespoons of flour, just to get them coated. Mix these into the dough.
4. Dump the dough out onto a floured surface and knead a bit, just until it comes together.
5. Form the dough into a ball and place it on a sheet pan. Cut an X in the top with a knife.
6. Bake at 375 degrees for about 50 minutes, until a toothpick comes out clean and the loaf makes a hollow sound when you tap the bottom of it.

Irish cream fudge

I came across this idea while looking for something to bring to the office holiday potluck party. Ultimately, I decided against bringing something boozy to an office party... but I ended up making this anyway, 'cause I wanted to see how it would come out and thought of a few people who might like some as a gift.

Feeling sad at the holidays? Have a few pieces of this delicious fudge and you won't care. It's that potent and that sneaky -- I don't even like alcohol usually, but I was getting tipsy licking the bowl, 'cause pretty much none of the alcohol cooks off, plus the alcohol taste is very well hidden. It tastes like chocolate and the delicious flavor of Irish cream, and you don't taste any of the alcohol until right after you swallow (by which time you've probably got another piece shoved in your mouth anyway, 'cause it's really good).

So make this for your over-21 friends as a tasty, naughty treat. It's great for the holidays. And since it's Irish cream, it'd probably be pretty good for St. Patrick's Day, too. Plus, it's really simple to make.

Irish Cream Fudge
Adapted from Pass the Sushi

3 c semisweet chocolate chips
1 c white chocolate chips
1/4 c butter
3 c confectioners’ sugar
1 c Baileys Irish cream

1. Melt the chocolate chips and the butter in a large bowl in the microwave and stir together until smooth.
2. Stir in the Baileys, then the confectioners' sugar, until incorporated.
3. Spread in a parchment-lined 8-by-8 pan and chill until firm, then cut into pieces.

Irish scones

With St. Patrick's Day approaching, I thought it was time to try something from an Irish cookbook I picked up some time ago. The book promises authentic Irish recipes, collected from cooks across Ireland. And for the most part, it delivered -- these taste how authentic scones have always been described -- not sweet, not salty like biscuits, actually rather bland in flavor, a peasant concoction that's best as a carrier for jam.

I might make these again, and they definitely get points for authenticity, but to my American palate, they really could've used some salt (there isn't any at all in the recipe). Next time, I might make a more common, biscuit-like recipe instead, 'cause like many foods from my heritage (see also black pudding/kishka, steak and kidney pie, haggis, etc.), just because it's what my ancestors ate doesn't mean that I've inherited a taste for it.

Irish Scones
Adapted slightly from "The Country Cooking of Ireland"

6 1/4 c flour
1/2 c sugar
2 tsp baking soda
1 c butter, cut into pieces, cold
3/4 c currants or raisins
1 3/4 c milk
1 egg

1. Mix the flour, sugar and baking soda together in a large bowl. Cut in the butter until the mixture resembles coarse meal. Stir in the currants or raisins, then add the milk and stir just until the dough comes together. (This totally didn't work for me -- I ended up dumping it all out onto a floured counter and kneading it together, 'cause it just couldn't be mixed in a bowl.) Form into a rough ball.
2. Divide into 2 pieces and form each into a ball. Arrange on parchment-lined cookie sheets at least an inch apart.
3. Beat together the egg and a teaspoon of water and brush the tops of the dough balls.
4. Bake at 400 degrees for 30 to 35 minutes, until golden brown. Remove to a rack to cool.

Irish brown soda bread

While I'm getting in touch with my heritage, I figured I'd move on to another country my people are from: Ireland. This is appropriate, seeing as it's the time of year when St. Patrick's Day rolls around -- I've got a craving for corned beef, so I figured, why not make traditional soda bread for corned beef sandwiches?

That's traditional soda bread, mind you. You may think that soda bread is sweet stuff with raisins in it, but the truth is that while that kind is delicious, it's not traditional. Soda bread, really, is just bread made with baking soda, as opposed to yeast -- it reacts with an acidic ingredient, usually buttermilk, and that reaction makes the bread rise.

I have to say, this recipe's delicious. And it's healthy, too, which is always a plus. And it's easy. The only issue I had was that I overbaked it a bit, again, 'cause I got distracted while it was in the oven. And it didn't rise so much -- but seeing as it's a wheat bread, and hard flours inhibit rising, that makes sense. I might alter the flour ratio a bit next time, just a bit, just to see if I can get a better rise.

Irish Brown Soda Bread
From "Cooking Light"

2 1/2 c wheat flour
1/2 c all-purpose flour
1/2 c steel-cut oats
2 tbsp brown sugar
1 tbsp wheat germ
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1 egg, lightly beaten
2 c buttermilk

1. Whisk all of the dry ingredients together in a large bowl.
2. Whisk the egg and buttermilk together in a small bowl, then pour it into the other bowl. Mix until just combined.
3. Spoon into a greased 9-by-5 loaf pan.
4. Bake at 325 degrees for about an hour, until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.
5. De-pan and cool on a rack.