What is it that makes a food a treat, that makes the sharing of food and drink a sublime indulgence?
In days gone by, we used to believe that a big blow-out in a bourgeois restaurant was the only way in which a food experience could become a luxury. These days, more democratic and more enlightened about our food, I think we appreciate that simpler things can conspire to make something truly special.
Here are some of the things we shall be enjoying in west Cork during the holidays.
Clam Digging: Easter always welcomes a full moon, and its spotlit nights and consequential low tides mean the gritty shores of west Cork are dotted with clam diggers whose overflowing buckets of this most special treat are usually sold straight off to the Continent.
For a few amateurs, digging for clams is one of the west Cork Good Friday traditions - somewhat penitential, of course, but for the most part it is shared fun and frustration. The uninitiated, like myself, usually pack up mountains of slithery sand on the foreshore and get nuthin' for supper at the end of it all as the elusive little critters scarper away. But, on a fine day, the fresh air and the glinting sea and the companionship are more than adequate compensation.
And here is how we shall cook them, an adaptation of the simple Spanish idea of pairing clams with mint and peas.
Clam, Pea and Mint Gratin
1 kilo clams, well scrubbed
Sea salt 2 tablespoons olive oil
1 large onion, chopped
Half a finger of pancetta, cut into tiny lardons
Pinch red pepper flakes
Tiny bundle of mint leaves, finely chopped
100 grammes frozen peas
200 ml dry white wine Bread crust
Small handful of parsley
1 clove of garlic
Wash the clams well, giving the shells a scrub with a stiff brush, then cover with cold, salted water for a few hours to disgorge.
Using a mezzaluna (a double-handled crescent shaped chopping a food processor, mince the bread, parsley and garlic clove.
In a large, flameproof casserole-dish, warm the two tablespoons of olive oil and fry the onion until very soft - about 20 minutes, adding the diced pancetta after 10 minutes and cooking it until it has released its fat and become crispy.
Add the peas and a pinch of pepper flakes, then cover and cook until the peas are tender: this will only take a couple of minutes with frozen peas. Add in the chopped mint, and reserve.
In a large saucepan, bring the wine to the boil. Add the clams and steam them over a high heat until they open, about 3-5 minutes. Scoop them out then, holding them in a gloved hand, shuck the clam meat and add the meat to the pea stew, discarding any that have not opened.
Quickly strain the wine and juices from the clams through a fine sieve into a clean saucepan. Season with black pepper, reheat.
Warm the clams and peas and then portion into deep, narrow soup bowls. Pour over just enough of the wine mixture to come just below the surface of the clams, and then sprinkle each with the breadcrumbs, drizzle over some olive oil and place under a hot grill for no more than two minutes to crisp the top. (Be careful not to burn the breadcrumbs)
Serve this with hunks of good crusty bread for dipping into the gratin to mop up the winey-saline juices, and get high on the inimitable seashore smell of fresh clams.
This will serve two as a hearty main course, or four as a starter.
Breakfast rhubarb: The young rhubarb is in full bloom, not yet too bitter, and when cooked with some grenadine, stewed rhubarb is for me one of the great breakfast treats, served with granola and organic yogurt. I got the idea of using grenadine from Lettercollum House in Timoleague, one of west Cork's best restaurants. Its colour and taste perfectly complement the rhubarb.
Rhubarb with Grenadine
1lb rhubarb
3 tablespoons water 3 tablespoons sugar
Grenadine
Slice the rhubarb, sprinkle with the water and sugar and place in a covered pot on a medium heat for about six minutes, until the rhubarb is soft, but not broken up. Very carefully stir in the grenadine, being careful not to turn the whole thing into a stewy mess.
Adele's lemon cake: The reopening of Adele Connor's bakery and tea shop, on the main street of Schull, is always one of the big events of the west Cork Easter. Adele and Valerie will be back into their routine of getting up at the crack of dawn and heading down the steps into the bakery, so that we can arrive at 11 a.m., luxuriating in the aroma of freshly baked bread, and order a deep cup of coffee and a slice of that extraordinary lemon cake, so sweet and juicy, so tart and altogether lush.
As I write this column, news comes of the death of cheesemaker Eugene Burns, of Ardrahan cheeses of Kanturk, a generous, ebullient and hugely lovable character on the stage of Irish artisan food.