Hannah unfolded the apron on the stool in front of her; it was a pretty duck-egg blue and her name was sewn in cream.
It was day one in the kitchen and they were all as excitable as a litter of puppies – even Fliss who actually smiled when they first walked into the high-beamed kitchen which had once been an old barn. Light spilled in from a wall of bifold windows on one side and high Velux windows built into the sloping roof. The view took in sweeping green hills topped by distant clouds of heather, and between them a vee-shaped shadowy glimpse of the sea, where the cool grey of the horizon almost merged with the water.
Four long work benches ran parallel to a demonstration kitchen area which had a bank of built-in ovens to the right and a whiteboard and TV screen on the back wall. On each bench there was a sink in the middle and a good few metres of counter space on either side. Orderly piles of utensils, including measuring jugs, scales, bowls, as well as wooden spoons and spatulas in tall pottery jars, were arranged at seven stations, two to each bench with one solo one at the back bench, to which Jason immediately gravitated. If there ever was someone who wanted to be at the back of the class it was him.
Earlier, Hannah had woken in the big double bed to bright sunshine spilling in through the dormer window and had rather chicken-heartedly opted to have toast and jam in her own kitchen instead of visiting the main house again. Last night’s dinner had been quite enough for her, thank you.
‘Morning, Hannah. We missed you at breakfast,’ said Izzy, coming to stand beside her. ‘Although if I eat a breakfast like that every day, I’ll be the size of a house. Honestly, the bacon was to die for. I think there might be something in all this organic rare breed stuff.’
‘Do you think so? I mean, can food really taste that different?’
Izzy shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I’m willing to be persuaded.’
‘I just came to learn to cook.’
‘Me too.’ Izzy caught her bottom lip between her teeth. ‘I’ve got a lot riding on it.’
Before Hannah could ask any more, Adrienne swanned in, looking as glamorous and gorgeous as ever, her skin positively glowing with good health and wellbeing. This morning her glorious auburn hair was tied back and she had a white hat on. She was followed by Mairead, another woman, and a tiny girl with a very fierce, determined face, all of whom wore green aprons with the cookery school logo and white headbands keeping their hair from their faces.
‘Good morning, everyone. I hope you slept well. Welcome to the cookery school. I’d like to introduce you to Bronagh, my deputy, and Niamh, my granddaughter, who along with Mairead are our kitchen assistants this week. If you need anything, they’re here to help you.’
She ran through a few basic house rules. Hannah knew from the schedule that week one was all about flour. They’d be making bread, pastry, cakes, biscuits, and scones during the week. Which all seemed quite straightforward.
‘First of all, today we’re going to be talking about bread, namely traditional Irish soda bread and sourdough. Does anyone know what makes these two different from other kinds of bread?’
Alan raised a hand. ‘Neither are made using yeast.’
‘Don’t you need a starter?’ suggested Meredith.
Adrienne beamed at them. Clearly they were going to be the class swots, thought Hannah rather uncharitably, given that for most of her life she’d been exactly that.
‘Thank you. Yes. Soda bread is the easiest bread you’ll ever make but no less tasty for it. The joy of soda bread is that you can make it quickly and eat it fresh when you want it. Whereas sourdough is a little more complicated because you need a starter. That’s a natural fermentation of yeast found in flour that you make with flour and water, and that’s what we’ll bestartingwith today.’ She beamed at the small pun and went on to explain the processes that were involved. ‘Basically it’s like having a pet. You have to feed it each day and look after it. And,’ she paused, ‘you have to give it a name.’
Behind her, Hannah heard Jason swear, while Meredith and Alan were already discussing names.
‘That’ll be a euro in the jar.’ Adrienne picked up an empty Kilner jar from the front bench and shook it at Jason. Clearly she had bat ears. Although Jason rolled his eyes, he dug in his pocket and sauntered to the front to drop the coin with a clink into the glass jar.
Then they were off and by ten-thirty, the first coffee break, they had mixed up their sourdough starters, all duly named. Hannah had settled on Herbert as she sealed the jar with the unprepossessing mixture. Didn’t you make glue from flour and water?
They’d also made a soda bread with buttermilk and, as Adrienne had promised, it really was very easy and seemed a lot more practical than the seven days of faffing with flour and water that the sourdough required. After that they made a white loaf with yeast. Who knew that kneading bread dough was such hard work?
‘When I knead dough, I like to really take any frustrations of the day out on it. The harder you work it, the more you release, warm, and stretch the gluten to give you a nice elastic, springy dough. I always think it’s a great way of balancing out any negativity.’
‘I always imagine it’s my ex’s head,’ announced Meredith with gleeful venom.
‘Yes. Me too,’ said Fliss. ‘Why are men – present company excluded of course – such bastards?’
‘We’re not all bad,’ protested Alan.
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ piped up Jason with an evil leer that made them all burst out laughing.
Never having kneaded anything in her life, Hannah found it hard to get into the natural rocking rhythm that the others all seemed to have. Luckily Bronagh, her kitchen assistant, was on hand to show her the technique. It was a relief when the required ten minutes was up and she could relinquish the dough to prove.
At lunchtime they all congregated at a scarred oak table for a buffet lunch of salads and large glasses of home-made elderflower cordial. Hannah made a mental note to text her sister to thank her for the tip about comfortable shoes. Being on your feet for a whole morning certainly took its toll. Goodness only knows what her poor tootsies would feel like by the end of the week – and her shoulders were killing her from all that kneading.
‘Right. Chores,’ announced Adrienne as they were eating. ‘I’ll allocate them now but if at the end of the week you want to try something else, just let me know. It’s good if you can try everything while you’re here. Hannah, you’ll be on feeding the chickens and collecting the eggs. Meredith, you’ll be helping Mairead harvest and pick the fruit and vegetables for dinner. Jason, you’ll be feeding the pigs. Alan, if you could help bring in the cows – easy job, it’s just a question of opening the gates. They know the way. Fliss, if you can help Franklin in the greenhouse, opening up and closing the windows and operating the sprinkler system. Izzy, you’ll be in the herb garden collecting herbs in the mornings and using the dehydrator to dry herbs, mushrooms, and chillies.’
‘Wow, that sounds interesting,’ said Izzy, with an enthusiastic grin. ‘Izzy The Dehydrator – better than The Terminator.’ Hannah and Meredith giggled while Jason muttered under his breath. ‘Bit of a cheek getting us to do the work.’
