“Och,” she said, smiling to herself, “you’d be surprised, sir. You’d be surprised.”
AFTERWORD
Much of this story is based on Irish mythology. Some readers may wish to learn more about this subject. My own interest came about because of one remarkable woman, Miss Maud Tipping, my primary-school teacher. Her knowledge of Irish history and folklore was encyclopaedic. She always set aside ten minutes after each of her British imperial history classes to make her pupils familiar with their Irish heritage. Please remember, I grew up in Northern Ireland, which was and still is a part of the United Kingdom. We had the same curriculum as kids in England.
In those precious ten minutes, Miss Tipping would read to us from a book called The Knights of the Red Branch. It told of the adventures of the great Irish hero Cúchulain (Kuh-koo-lin), and of his and his Ulster warriors’ struggles with the forces of Queen Maebh (Maeve) of Connacht.
Queen Maeve had set out to steal Donn (Dunn), the great brown bull of Ulster. In this story, great themes are all told lyrically. In her quest and the battles of resistance by Cúchulain and his Red Branch knights, you will find heroes and villains, gods, goddesses, and demons. Great themes are there: loyalty and betrayal, love and hatred, and life and death. It is an epic to equal the Odyssey, the Iliad, the Chanson de Roland.
I was eight years old—and hooked for life.
I later discovered that The Knights is an English retelling of the great Irish epic, the Táin Bó Cualgne (Tawin bo Cooley), or The Cattle Raid of Cooley. It is Ireland’s oldest recorded saga.
If I have piqued your interest, let me recommend an amazing work written in 1920, Visions and Beliefs in the West of Ireland: Collected and Arranged by Lady Gregory, with Two Essays and Notes by W. B. Yeats. In it you will find all the tales of the supernatural you could desire. From it comes this wonderful quotation referring to things ghostly: “There’s no doubt at all but that there’s the same sort of things in other countries. . . . But you hear more about them in these parts, because the Irish do be more familiar in talking of them” [my italics].
When I came originally to create Mrs. Kincaid, it was the influence of my childhood experiences that let her emerge as a woman who is fey. And her having the sight drove me to ask how she got it, and ended up with this telling of her story.
Kinky is also a superb cook, as readers of earlier works will know, so I have, as with all the Irish Country series, included some of her recipes here.
I hope you enjoy them. I certainly do.
Irish Recipes
LEEK AND POTATO SOUP
1 chopped onion
3 leeks
4 potatoes
knob of butter
vegetable stock
10 fluid oz / 1¼ cups cream
salt and pepper
Fry the onion gently for about 10 minutes until cooked but still transparent. Add the well-washed, trimmed, and chopped leeks. Cook for another 5 minutes. Then add the chopped potatoes and enough vegetable stock to cover them. Season and cook for about 20 minutes until potatoes are done.
Add cream, and garnish with chopped parsley.
POTATO APPLE FADGE
450 g / 1 lb / 2 cups cooked potatoes
115 g / 4 oz / ½ cup plain flour
1 teaspoon salt
115 g / 4 oz / ½ cup butter
1 large apple
a sprinkle of sugar
Mash the potatoes while they are still warm. Sieve flour and salt together; add to the potatoes and work in the butter.
Form into a round, and roll out on a floured surface to about ¼-inch thick.
Grate or thinly slice the apple, and cover one half of the circular, rolled-out potato mix with it.
Depending on how sweet the apple is will determine the amount of sugar needed.
I like to use Bramley apples grown in the beautiful orchards of County Armagh. These are quite tart apples and do need a little sugar.
The entire circumference of the pastry is moistened and the empty half folded over the half with the apples. This will seal the edges.
Lightly grease or oil a heavy frying pan, and cook slowly on both sides over a medium heat so that the apple inside is cooked.
Serve hot, spread with extra butter.
COLCANNON
675 g / 1½ lbs / 3 cups mashed potatoes, still hot
225 g / 8 oz / 1 cup savoy cabbage, cooked and chopped
125 ml / 4 oz / ½ cup cream
125 ml / 4 oz / ½ cup milk
small bunch of scallions, chopped
55 g / 2 oz / ¼ cup butter
2 slices of cooked bacon, chopped
Combine the potato and cabbage in a serving bowl.
Cook the chopped scallions in the milk until soft. Add the cream and seasoning, and mix into the hot potato mixture. Add the chopped bacon. Dot with butter and serve.
STEAK AND KIDNEY PUDDING
680 g / 1½ lbs chuck steak
225 g / 8 oz / 1 cup ox kidney
a small onion
salt and pepper
30 ml / 2 tablespoons plain flour
140 ml / ¼ pint / cup beef stock
Suet Pastry
400 g / 14 oz / 1 cups self-raising flour
200 g / 7 oz beef / cup or vegetarian suet
½ teaspoon salt
black pepper
285 ml / ½ pint / 1½ cups cold water
First make the pastry by sifting the flour together with the black pepper and salt.
Then add the suet, and mix it in with a knife. Gradually add the water until you have a doughlike consistency. (Indeed you may need to use extra water as some flours need more than others.) Now use your hands, and work the mixture till you have a nice smooth dough. Roll out the dough, and line a pudding bowl with about three-quarters of the pastry.
Cut the steak and kidney into small little cubes. Toss the meat in seasoned flour and put the flour-covered cubes into the pastry-lined bowl. Then add a chopped onion and enough beef stock to almost cover the meat.
Now roll out the rest of the pastry to make a lid. Dampen the edges with water to make a good seal. The next step is a little tricky because the pie must be covered, but the covering has to leave room for the crust to expand during cooking.
I use greaseproof, that’s waxed paper, to cover it. Take a sheet and fold it in half. Now bring the upper fold back, but refold it two inches from the first fold to form a Z-shaped pleat. This will allow for expansion.
Alternately butter one side of aluminum foil and pleat it in the same way.
Now cover the bowl. If you use buttered foil, put the buttered side toward the pastry.
Cover the bowl and its “lid” with brown paper tied on with string. Once the string has been tied round the top of the basin, tie the long end of the string to the opposite side of the basin, making a loop to use as a handle.
If you own a steamer, use it. If not, a saucepan filled with water can be used if the pudding is set in the pan on a trivet or even an upturned plate. Remember to keep an eye on the water level and keep topping it up so the pan does not boil dry.
To serve, turn the pudding out on a plate, and cut it into wedges. I like to serve it with peas and mashed potatoes.
FROCKON (BILBERRY) JELLY
900 g / 2 lbs / 4 cups bilberries
900 g / 2 lbs / 4 cups sugar, warmed
Place the washed berries in a preserving pan or a saucepan or stockpot large enough to enable the fruit to be cooked without boiling over, and bring slowly to the boil.
Stir and press the bilberries to break down the fruit and release the juice.
As soon as the fruit is cooked (about 10 minutes), add the warmed sugar and stir until dissolved. Then bring the mixture to a rapid boil, and boil for about 10 minutes.
Now you can use either a muslin jelly bag or a sieve lined with gauze placed over a bowl.
Pour the jelly mixture into it, and let it drip through. If you don’t mind not having a completely clear jelly, you can press to
extract as much juice as possible.
Pour the juice into warmed jars and cover when cold.
This makes two one-pound jars, but the process is exactly the same for a larger quantity.
GLOSSARY
The earlier Irish Country works have been set entirely in north County Down. The dialect spoken there is rich and colourful, but it can be confusing, so in each of the earlier books I provided a glossary.
An Irish Country Girl takes place both in Ulster and County Cork. The children in the early part of the book are from north Down and naturally speak in the idiom of that part of the world.
Readers have been kind enough to say that they found it helpful to have the translations of expressions Ulster folk use, like “He wouldn’t come within a beagle’s gowl of it.” This is not only because the expression is opaque and requires explanation, but also because “gowl” is spelled correctly. It is not a typographical error for “growl.” When a beagle dog gives voice, its gowl can be heard a very long way away.
In the present volume, the focus shifts to Mrs. Kincaid as a young woman called Maureen O’Hanlon, from County Cork. The accent and syntax there are very different.
Ireland is a country where someone familiar with the speech patterns and accents can easily differentiate between the inhabitants of the Lower Falls Road in Belfast and those from the Upper Falls, never mind those from County Down and County Cork. Professor Henry Higgins would have had a field day—and that’s just with the English language. And Higgins’s creator was an Irishman, George Bernard Shaw.
Irish is also spoken by many people, particularly in the Republic of Ireland. Indeed in the Gaeltacht (galetack) in the west of Ireland it is the first language. Where I felt it added authenticity, I tried, if it did not interfere with the narrative, to give both the Irish word and the phonetic English spelling in the text. Where the phonetics would have been intrusive, I beg your indulgence and hope you have consulted the glossary.
Many readers of the earlier works have wanted to know the meaning of the Irish names of the characters. They are appended here in a separate category called “Names” with their Anglicised spelling and, if necessary, their pronunciation. Connor, the Anglicised version of Conchobar, pronounced “Connachoor,” and Patrick, the Anglicised version of Pádraig, pronounced “Pawdraig,” are but two examples. Where no English version exists—for example, for Finnbheannach, the name of a mythical bull—the pronunciation is given.
This glossary, though just as wide-ranging, is different from its predecessors in that a lot of the more colourful expressions in the previous books were scatological and would not be used by the characters inside these covers.
I hope this glossary enhances your enjoyment.
a chara: Irish. Pronounced “ah kara.” My dear.
acting the goat, lig: Behaving foolishly.
Alban Artuan: The earliest Irish celebration of the winter solstice. Replaced, post–Saint Patrick, by Christmas.
amadán: Irish. Pronounced “omadawn.” Male idiot. See óinseach.
Angelus: Short daily period of devotion celebrating Christ’s incarnation. Repeated morning, noon, and evening at six. Marked by the tolling of a bell.
anorak: Parka.
an poc ar buille: Irish. Pronounced “an puck ar bwilla.” A mad goat.
ants in your pants: The inability to sit still. Constantly fidgeting.
arse: Backside (impolite).
at yourself: Feeling well.
aunty, auntie: Not necessarily a relative but a title of respect used by children to female family friends. See uncle.
aunt Fanny Jane, my: Nonsense.
away off and chase yourself: Go away, or I don’t believe you.
away off and feel your head: Don’t be ridiculous.
away on: I don’t believe you.
babby, babbies: Baby, babies.
bad cess to you: Bad luck to you.
báinín: Irish. Pronounced “bawnyeen.” Raw wool rich in lanolin and hence waterproof.
Banagher, to beat: Far exceed any reasonable expectations.
banjaxed: Exhausted or broken.
bank (of a fire): To cover the hot coals with small pieces called slack or turf, which slow the rate of burning. Usually done overnight or if the house will be empty.
Bean Sidhe: Irish. Pronounced “banshee.” Literally “woman of the mounds.” A female spirit whose moaning foretells death.
Bealtaine: Irish. Pronounced “bye-ol-tan-na.” Celtic May-first festival celebrating the beginning of summer.
bap, to lose the: To lose your temper.
barmbrack: Speckled bread (see Mrs. Kincaid’s recipe on page 340 in An Irish Country Doctor).
beagle’s gowl: Very long way; the distance over which the cry (“gowl”) of a beagle can be heard.
Beal na mBláth: Irish. Pronounced “beeuh nuh blaw.” Literally, the mouth of the flowers. A five-road crossroads in West Cork where Long’s Pub stood in the 1920s. In August 1922, Michael Collins, chairman of the provisional Irish government, and commander in chief of its armed forces, was ambushed near there and shot dead.
beasts: Cattle.
bee in your bonnet, have a: Be obsessed with.
bee on a hot brick, like a: Running round distractedly.
blether: Useless talk. Sometimes used to express frustration. “Och, blether.”
bletherskite: Nonstop talker.
bluestocking: Originally an eighteenth-century women’s society fostering the education of women. Came to be used pejoratively of women with feminist ideas.
bodhrán: Irish. Pronounced “bowrawn.” A circular handheld drum.
boke: Vomit.
bollocks: Testicles (impolite). May be used to express vehement disagreement or to describe a person of whom you disapprove. “He’s a right bollocks.”
both legs the same length: Standing around uselessly.
boul’: Bold.
bound and determined: Absolutely set on a course of action.
bowler hat: Derby hat.
bowsey: Drunkard.
Bramley: A tart cooking apple.
Buck eejit: Imbecile.
cailín: Irish. Pronounced “cawleen.” Girl.
camán: Irish. Pronounced “cumawn.” Hurley. Stick with flat curved head used for playing hurling.
Carrageen moss: An edible seaweed.
cast in the eye: Squint.
caubeen: Traditional Irish, unpeaked, soft bonnet.
céili: Irish. Pronounced “kaylee.” Party with music and dancing.
certificates: In the Irish education system, two national examinations could be sat for: the Junior Certificate, when the student was about sixteen, and the School Leaving Certificate, two years later. Possession of either in 1926 guaranteed the holder some form of lesser white-collar work. The Leaver’s, as it was known, was required for university admission and for entrance to professions like nursing and teaching.
cess: A contraction of “success.” Luck.
champ: A dish of buttermilk, butter, potatoes, and chives.
chancer: Devious person.
chips: French fries. In Ireland, potato chips are called “crisps.”
chiseller: Dublin slang for a small child.
clabber: Glutinous mess, usually of mud or of mud and cow-clap. See Lady Muck.
clatter, a brave: A large quantity.
clearing: A ritual to prove one’s innocence or persuade others of your veracity.
Cloch na gCoilte: Irish. Pronounced “Clonakilty.” Castle of the woods. Clonakilty is a town in West Cork.
clot: Idiot. Royal Air Force slang that crept into common usage.
Clydesdale: Huge, powerful breed of plough-and-dray horses.
colcannon: A dish made of mashed potatoes, butter, cream, cabbage, scallions, and bacon. Traditionally made from the first pulled new potatoes and eaten at Lughnasa.
come-all-ye: Traditional Irish narrative song that starts with the bidding “Come all ye.” For example, “Come All Ye Dry-Land Sai
lors,” or “Courtin’ in the Kitchen.”
come into: Inherit.
coney: Rabbit
coortin’: Paying court to. See also walk out with.
cow’s lick: Tuft of hair that sticks up, or hair slicked over to one side.
cracker: Excellent. See also wheeker.
craic: Irish. Pronounced “crack.” Fun. Good conversation. A very good time was had by all, often fuelled by several drops of the craytur.
Crannóg: Fortified man-made island reached by a causeway. One at Loughbrickland dates to 400 B.C.
craytur: Creature. Equivalent to North American “critter.”
craytur, a drop of the: Whiskey.
cross: Very angry.
cross as two sticks: Furious.
crúibins: Irish. Pronounced “crubeens.” Boiled pigs’ feet, served cold and eaten with vinegar.
culchie: An Irish man or woman who does not live in Dublin. A hick or rube. Used pejoratively by Dubliners. See jack.
cure, wee: Hair of the dog. Hangover cure supposedly accomplished by having another drink.
dab hand: Skilled at.
Dáil Eireann: Pronounced “doyle airann.” The Irish parliament.
damper: Device for restricting the flow of air to a coal or turf fire to slow the rate of burning.
dander: Literally, horse dandruff. Used to signify either a short leisurely walk or anger. “He really got my dander up.”
dead on: A strong affirmative or excited acceptance of good news. Equivalent to “I totally agree” or “That’s marvelous.”
Dia dhuit: Irish. Pronounced “deeat gitch.” Hello. Literally, God save you. The reply is Dia is Muire dhuit (God and Mary save you). Pronounced “geeas mwurrah gitch.”
divil: Devil.
divil the bit: None. For example, “He’s divil the bit of sense.” (He has no sense.)
Dobharchú: Irish. Pronounced “duvarchoo.” Literally, otter, but also used to describe a mythical sea monster.