I am sitting in the Ballymaloe House café writing to you today, trying like heck to resist the urge to shop next door! Now, I would not call myself a shopper. My clothing falls mostly in the category of jeans and tops, some well intentioned exercise apparel, and a modest assortment of well loved shoes. But put me in a kitchen store and I could spend my week’s wages in a hot minute if I let myself run unchecked.

I am two thirds of the way through this amazing journey, and if not for a tremendous desire to see my people, I would contentedly stay here for quite some time to come. I LOVE Ireland, and this small town life suits me well. As our course nears the final push, the pace has quickened among the students quite a bit. A cumulative anticipation builds in the air as we all prune down our list of possible recipes for our final exam menu. We tackle more complex recipes with each passing day, and our cooking assignment load slowly increases. November brings cold, shorter days and the reluctant sun rises as I leave for class and sets on my way home. Ever happy and grateful for the opportunity to come here, I would readily describe this program as an intensive and all consuming baptism by fire into the culinary arts. I love it.

I giggle at the thought that by now I would be immune to the wonder of the things that one could eat. But I ate black pudding the other day – and yessss, loved it. Black pudding is made from oats and well, to put it delicately, ummmm, well, I guess I’ll just go for bluntly – blood. So it goes without saying, you’ve got to make sure your source is extremely sound and trustworthy! I also experienced the joy of nailing the art of a perfect scone, beautiful bread and butter. It’s much easier to perfect these things when you start with the quality ingredients that are available to me here at Ballymaloe. The milk machines are walking around behind my cottage, soaking up the sun and eating gorgeous grass. And if I didn’t mention it before, the sweet woman who tends the dairy herd lovingly calls each cow by name and knows their personalities. Some of the bovine-ladies are ticklish, some are shy, while another is downright testy if she’s woken up cranky. Not unlike people! The eggs are layed daily by happy hens clucking about, and well….how can scones, bread, butter (or anything else for that matter) be anything short of a-mazing??? What do you think my neighbors would think if I brought home a cow?

I am going to miss waking up to the sound of the cows lowing in the field. But the rooster??? I suppose they are necessary to keep the species going, but GOOD GRIEF, he starts his shenanigans at 3:30 am. You know, because the sun is coming up in Hong Kong at about that time, and for the love of all that is good, he has got to let everyone know. I have visions at 4am of making Coq a Vin for dinner. Don’t know why.

My day in the pizza kitchen was as anticipated. Warm. Down right crazy and blissfully hot when working the ovens! It took three hours for my arm to turn back from cherry tomato red to its normal color. And well, I don’t think I have any hair left on that arm! It was mesmerizing, methodically rotating those pizzas, letting the fire lick the sides just long enough to transform them into golden brown beauties topped with blistering bubbling cheese…. Oh, Yes, I was happy.

Yesterday was dubbed our soufflé, crepe, and flaky pastry day – Monday will take us through emulsion sauces. If all of these weren’t delicious on their own, the fact that they are all made with golden yellow Jersey butter just takes them (and me!) over the edge. I’ve already confessed my adoration for the dear cows. But they make the most beautiful b-u-t-t-e-r! Now, some of you know how much butter means to me. If you’ve watched me blend butter into my coffee in the mornings, or butter my bananas, you have my permission to certify me as ‘butter obsessed’. I’m comfortable with that. After coming here, however, I’ll be past any help or intervention. Everything is better with butter. Without. A. Doubt.

As I said, the workload is ramping up, and exams are coming quickly around the corner. Written exams on our Safety and Sanitation lectures, wine, cooking knowledge and our three hour practical. It’s hard to believe that there are only four weeks until I head home! I will admit to having had some hard moments of intense homesickness, and yes, I expected them. I rode them like waves, embracing the present, happy in the knowledge that I would be home again. Thanksgiving will be bittersweet, and I will be thinking of the family and friends that I hold so dear. I wish you all a Blessed Thanksgiving. Hold each other close, and send a hug my way! I may not be having turkey, but you can rest assured I will express my thanks (hee hee) by eating ……butter.

Blessings to you all!

Pasta Love! Or in other words, “I LOVE PASTA!”