Taylor - An Irish Country Cookbook

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To Maureen and Joy

Hello there. Great oaks from little acorns grow and to everything there must be a start. Bear with me and Ill explain. My name is Barry Laverty; some of you may know me from reading Patrick Taylors Irish Country Doctor series of books. If you do, youll know a remarkable womanMaureen Kinky Auchinleck, lately Kincaid, ne OHanlon, housekeeper to the redoubtable Doctor Fingal Flahertie OReilly, physician and surgeon, and the font of all help to the folks who live in Ballybucklebo and the surrounding townland in County Down in Northern Ireland.

One Thursday afternoon in January 1967, after making home visits on one of Ulsters lets pretend its Monsoon season here days, I barged through the back door into her kitchen at Number One Main Street, rain dripping from my coat as if it were running off a spaniel after a water retrieve.

Kinky was sitting at her table writing something. She looked up. Tut, Doctor Laverty, she said, shaking her head, if it wasnt unfair to the animal in question Id say you looked like a drowned rat, so. Did you swim home?

I shrugged out of my coat. No, I said, moving to stand in front of the range for a bit of warmth and rubbing my hands. But theres a fellah in the back garden collecting up gopher wood and animals two by two. He says hes building an ark. Names Noah.

She laughed. Run away on with you, sir. But it surely does be coming down in sheets. Will I make you a cup of tea?

I think, I said, youll save a life. Mine.

She put what she was working on aside, rose, and set about tea making. I wonder if I could ask you a favour, Doctor Laverty?

Life was returning and my trouser legs were steaming. Fire away.

She put a filled kettle on the range top. You mind a few years back, himself, Doctor OReilly, asked me to give your man Patrick Taylor some traditional Irish recipes?

I do.

And they were published in the back of all eleven of the Irish Country books? Theres a fair wheen of them.

Yes. I wondered where this was leading.

Himself got to wondering aloud should I not put all that I know together in a book of my own?

I had to grin. I believe that would be a splendid idea, Kinky. But what could I do for you? Sue Nolan says Id burn water trying to boil an egg.

Your fiance is a very sensible woman but Im not asking you to cook. Im of the opinion, said Kinky, pouring boiling water into the teapot, you could do me a very great service, so.

I frowned. How?

She emptied the pot, spooned in tea leaves, added more boiling water, and said, Well let that sit until its well infused, then well both have a cup of tea and she went to a cupboard, and a slice of my orange sponge cake, and Ill tell you what I have in mind. Sit you down, sir.

I did as I was told, wondering what Kinky could be thinking of.

In moments I was clutching a cuppa, munching on a slice of her exquisite orange sponge cakeLord, but the woman could cookand paying close attention to what she was saying.

I think Doctor OReillys right, she said, sitting opposite. I do think Id like to write a cookbook of my own and I do have some notions how to go about it, but Id like your advice.

Ill try, I said.

She indicated a fat folder on the tabletop. Theres at least 150 recipes in here, mine and some from my friends and an old, God rest her now, cook who used to work for the marquis. Kinky sat back and sipped her tea.

That sounds like a pretty good start, I said.

But, she said, Id like it to be more than just recipes. Im already getting help from a Bangor woman called Dorothy Tinman. I met her when I took some art classes. She suggested I might like to include some signature recipes from a great Irish chef, and shes going to help me with all the conversions to North American and these newfangled metric measures and oven temperatures so anyone can use the book.

Not me, I said, but I do understand.

She glanced at my now-empty plate. Another slice?

I shouldnt, but If, I thought, Kinky had been in charge of feeding up the fatted calf it would have been the size of a blue whale.

Eat up however little much is in it, she said, putting a slice on my plate. Now I do think that a lot of folks in America would like to see some pictures of Ireland. It is a very lovely country, so.

I believe youre right. Pictures would add a lot, I said. The sponge just melted in my mouth.

And Dorothy, who has a great soft hand under a duck when it comes to the oils, is willing to let me put in some of her paintings too.

Sounds lovely, I said, having seen and much admired the artists work in various art galleries in Belfast. Im sure recipes and illustrations would go down well. Now if seeking my advice was the favour, I hope Ive done my duty. You go ahead, Kinky, and the best of luck.

No, sir, she said. I havent quite finished.

I stopped a piece of cake halfway to my mouth. What else could I possibly do?

Other than me, Doctor Laverty, no one, and I think that still might include his wife, Kitty, knows himselfs practice and the people in it better than yourself.

I nodded.

Id like it very much if youd have a stagger at putting pen to paper yourself and giving me a clatter of yarns about your first year here as his assistant that might bring a smile.

Well I

I know what it is youre going to say, sir, that youre no great shakes as a storyteller. Youve always left that up to Patrick Taylor. I know for a fact hes banging away at his keyboard doing another Country Doctor book. I doubt if hed have the time.

Ive heard, I said.

So I have a plan.

Go on, I said.

My Da was one of the greatest seanchies, storytellers, in all of County Cork, and he passed on the gift to me.

I knew. Id heard her. She was great.

You just put them down through your own eyes, give them to me, and Ill give them a wee tweak. Thats all itll take. And sure if they do bring smiles to the readers faces wont I be giving them more than just recipes?

Kinky, I said, I think the idea is a good one, but Im not sure I can pull it off.

She tutted and grabbed my cup. Your teas getting cold. Ill pour you a fresh cup. She trotted over to the sink, emptied the tea, came back, and repoured. There, she said.

Thank you.

Now youll give it a try, wont you, sir?

And already I started to remember a famous occasion when OReilly had lost his temper with two eminent professorsto their chagrin, not his. A certain lawyer who came to grief at OReillys hands.

Kinky, I said, for you Ill give it a go.

Grand altogether, she said, with a smile that would have chased the rain back to County Galway. When can you give me the first?

And that, dear reader, is how Kinkys cookbook got its start. It may not be a great oak like Isabella Beetons Book of Household Management, but the recipes are all for very tasty grub, the pictures are lovely, and, Kinky says, the craic in the stories is ninety. We all hope you enjoy the reading of it and find the recipes fun to make and delicious to eat.