Sunday, December 24, 2017

Excerpt / Recipe / Alternative to Turkey: Jiggs' Dinner from Hard Light by Michael Crummey


Jiggs’ Dinner

Out of bed by seven to leave plenty of time to dress for church. The salt beef in to soak overnight to take off the brine: put it on to boil in the largest pot in the pantry. Drain off half the salt water and replace it with fresh every hour. Clear a spot on the counter. Start the vegetables.


Potatoes
Potatoes are inevitable, like grace before a meal. You’ll want a spud for everyone eating, two if they’re smaller than your fist. The skin is mottled brown and spotted with eyes, the flesh is white and damp. The taste is neither here nor there, like its colour, it complements everything you serve. Cut the largest in half or three to avoid stony pits enduring after everything else is ready to eat.

Carrots
Carrots are the middle child, no one’s particular favourite, but well enough liked by all. A good rule of thumb is to cook more than you think you need. Never worry about leftovers: a carrot holds its flavour like no other vegetable, it tries so hard to please.

Turnip and Parsnip
Predictable vegetables, sturdy and uncomplicated, tasting of the winter root cellar, the warmth of darkness smouldering beneath snow. Turnip is served mashed with a tablespoon of butter and a pinch of fresh pepper. Parsnip served like carrot, the beautifully tapered torso laid naked on the plate.

Greens
Leaf and stalk of turnip, boiled until tender. The dark green of deep water shoals. As tart as spinach and better for you, the limp stalk wrapped around your fork like thread on a spool, a spill of green liquor on your lips with every mouthful.

Cabbage
Similar to lettuce, but heavier and more densely rounded: the quieter and more secretive of two siblings. Too firm and fibrous to be eaten raw, boil the cabbage whole until the inner leaves have paled almost to white and part before a fork like the Red Sea before the staff of Moses.

Onions
Slip the pocket of tears from its papery shell. Do not bring the knife near the flesh. Drop two or three whole onions into the pot to cook the tang from the core. Eat them by the forkful, the translucent layers soft and sweet as orange sections, every bit of bitterness boiled away.
When the church bell peals, place all vegetables to boil with the salt meat. The pease pudding is wrapped separately in cheesecloth or a piece of rag and placed last in the pot, before leaving for church at a quarter to eleven.

By twelve-thirty everything is ready. Take up the vegetables in separate dishes and people will serve themselves as they please. Ladle a spoonful of the salty liquor from the pot over your food, or dip up a mugful to drink with your meal. Protect your Sunday clothes with a linen or cotton napkin. Bow your heads before you eat.

Be thankful.


Hard Light by Michael Crummey (the book) is available from Brick Books. The section of Hard Light entitled 32 Little Stories, narrated by Michael Crummey, Ron Hynes and Deidre Gillard-Rowlings is available as an audio CD or MP3 Digital Download from Rattling Books.

Listen to Didi reading Jiggs' Dinner.
Jiggs' Dinner was also included (along with a piece each from Andy Jones and Mary-Lynn Bernard) in Three Servings, a chapbook from Running the Goat Press.