Solidarity and generosity

Just this morning I read about the brutal murder of organist Alan Greaves in Sheffield a year ago. On Christmas Eve this year his widow will embrace his murderers in prayer and all over the country choirs will sing a carol composed by Bob Chilcott especially for this occasion.

"Even before the carol could be printed and distributed, the music publishers Oxford University Press were inundated with requests from choirs who wanted to sing it this Christmas. To cope with demand, Chilcott allowed the printed music to be made available as a free download, meaning the carol can now be sung at midnight masses up and down the country."

I'm always cheered up by such stories of solidarity and generosity. If only we could see more of them in our own small daily lives.

Faffing around

I still haven't settled back into my everyday rhythm after the mad intensity of the 12 week course. Therefore my Christmas preparations have been slightly erratic. Between walks in the woods, making fudge and decorating the cottage I've been mostly napping and faffing around.

They're yummy

My Christmas branch

What the!

What just happened there? 12 weeks just zipped past! I'm back amongst people who do not breathe and live food 10 hours a day. Weird.

Last post from Ballymaloe

Leaving is bittersweet because you leave something of yourself behind but you also take something away with you. Both things make you a richer person than you were before you came.

Early in December

It is early in December but I can still quote Tove Jansson's novel Late in November. She writes: "A departure is a very abrupt thing, it springs upon you! All of a sudden everything changes and the one who is to travel cherishes every minute."

In one week I'll be on my way home to Finland. I will miss so many things. Walking up to the school early in the morning. Sitting by the fire with my housemates, processing and analysing and laughing. I will miss all the people who have made my twelve weeks at Ballymaloe an adventure and a delight. I will miss the hens and the dogs and the gardens.

I have one week left and I am going to cherish it, just like Tove said.

The most humane way

Two live lobsters were boiled in demo on Friday. Rachel assured us that she was going to cook them in the most humane way possible. Nowadays I'm not at all squeamish about these things and I didn't flinch as Emer secured the lid of the pan with two weights to prevent the lively lobsters from upsetting the entire arrangement.

I remember the first time I cooked crayfish. There was both shouting and commotion and I was recently reminded that at one point I even managed to pull down the curtains - accidentally I might add. However, as the crayfish quickly changed from dark brown or grey to bright red we accepted the fact that they had suddenly metamorphosed from living beings into food.

Although I'm unfazed by this particular aspect of being a carnivore the next time I put anything that kicks into a saucepan I will recall Rachel's words about the creatures being lulled to sleep in water slowly brought to the boil, images of sunny rockpools floating through their crustacean minds. 

That's humane enough for both human and crustacean.

Emer Fitzgerald and Rachel Allen - chefs extraordinaire