Day 26: let’s talk about colcannon
Okay, so perhaps not the most enticing title if you’re not so passionate about colcannon, but, if like me you have a soft-spot for mash potato - then I am sure you won’t mind a little excited witter from me for a couple of minutes.
Colcannon is one of those things I’ve been making since I left home and went to university, and if truth be told - I don’t think I ever actually realised it was called colcannon. Whilst I’m being honest with you, I also thought colcannon was made with cabbage, only, and that kale was just a fad-alternative.
Kale and mash potato, however, made a frequent appearance throughout my childhood, and on many visits to Holland was often served with a horseshoe-shaped smoked sausage - although the kale ratio was perhaps higher as I recall the dish being much greener. On research, I now understand this to be boerenkool (the kale and potato mash), which is traditionally accompanied by rookworst (the smoked sausage). It’s quite interesting to read into this now as I didn’t know it was actually an authentic, traditional Dutch dish, even to learn that my fondest memory of a little crater of gravy in the middle of the boerenkoo has a name - kuiltje jus, literally translating to ‘little pit of gravy’. In fact, I think it was probably my favourite meal as a child. I would often have it with the regular, British banger but it never made the same impression or evoked the same comfort. Therefore, as time went on I cooked it less and now may only occasionally mix some leftover cabbage or kale with mash potato if I have it to hand.
So, when I saw Nigella make her Brown Butter Colcannon on Cook Eat Repeat, I knew it was perhaps time to revisit this childhood favourite. What’s more, I got an electric masher for Christmas and I was bursting with excitement to take it for a test drive.
Nigella’s Brown Butter Colcannon
It was strangely nostalgic making this, evoking a lot of childhood and indeed university-life memories, where it served as a winter-comfort in my junior years and much-needed stodge, support and nutrient for the hungover days of uni. The version I would eat as a child always had an egg yolk in, a practice I still use today in my mash potato; I think it takes the richness and creaminess to a whole new level. But, for Nigella’s version, I stuck true to the recipe, which also included spring onions - something omitted from my childhood version.
The physical action of actually mashing potato is perhaps one of my most-hated tasks, and am always happy to call on nearby help to get the job done. Not only do I get hot and bothered right before sitting down for dinner, but I also seem to make an overly-dramatic, inordinate mess as I mash. The electric masher I got for Christmas did not disappoint and is perhaps the best gift of all. I could have perhaps browned the butter a little more, and should have - as told - used a light-coloured pan so I could see the varying degrees of colour change as the butter browned. Anyway, cooking is about learning too and there will be plenty of other opportunities to do it again - it’s not like it wasn’t exceedingly delicious as it was!
There was plenty of colcannon left over, and as suggested by the wise and wonderful Nigella, I made this into patties and served with a fried egg for dinner the next day. Into my patties, I also added some other Christmas leftovers: a little grated blue cheese and some of Nigella’s Slow-cooked Black Treacle Ham.
Flavour musings
It’s the browning of the butter and the conservation of the potato skins that crowns this the best colcannon I have ever had, and I will gladly take the time to repeat it frequently. Armed with this and my electric masher, I will be unstoppable in my foray into potato mashing.
