Bridget’s Kitchen, November, 2008

by Sherry Chapman

First published in November/December, 2008, Volume 5, Issue 4, The Hatchet: Journal of Lizzie Borden Studies.

Well, if it isn’t holiday thyme again in Fall River, my name ain’t Bridget Sullivan. Actually, it may not be since I don’t have a legal birth certificate. But I’ve went by it all these years and it’s a name I’ll keep.

Now’s the thyme of year I get to missin’ my old home in County Cork. My dear Muther and all us girls would start early in the kitchen makin’ the traditional fayvrits (I had to ask Miss Lizzie how to spell that last word). O, we’d make plum pudding and special breads, spiced beef, and sausages. Usually we’d have roast goose with cranberry sauce and vegetables. We’d take the spiced beef and slice it cold and have it with fresh bread after Christmas. We celebrate the whole 12 days of Christmas, startin’ on the 26^th of December and endin’ January 6^th. Everybody wood get a gift on each day, and there’d be parties through the whole county. The last night we called Twelfth Night, or Little Christmas. That’s the time we’d take down all the decorations. Not before! Oh, no. There’d be bad luck on us all if we didn’t wait til then.

We used ta scrub the house from cellar to ceilin’ and only then wood it be okay to start the decoratin’. I don’t do that here at the Borrdens because they don’t make me. And ennyway I ain’t allowed in most of the rooms. Somethymes if it’s a Thursday afternoon and I’m in the mood for some good gossipin’ I’ll go over to my Cousin Kate’s and tell her I’m there to help her clean. I end up just sittin’ in the next room, talkin’ with her while she’s cleanin’ and I’m sippin’ tea in a rockin’ chair. She don’t have doorrs on every room like the Borrdens do, and we can hear each uther real clear without yellin’.

I miss puttin’ a candle in the window. It’s a sign of welcomin’ travellers on Christmas Eve. But Miss Lizzie she’s afraid of the flame. She’s always sayin’ people are gonna come and burn the house over our heads. Mr. Borrden backs her up, of course, forbiddin’ it because he says it’s a waste of good candle whacks and a match.

But ‘tis the holly I miss most of all. Our house in Ireland was all full of holly, evry place we could possibly put it. Mr. Borrden forbids that too, when he found out we weren’t usin’ the berries for eatin’. Still, I get a sprig or two from my Cousin Shawn and put it up in my attic room.

Like I said, this time of year I’d be gettin’ ready to do a roast goose. The Borrdens will have a turkey or a ham on Christmas Eve, but the very next day go right back to eatin’ how they always do.  Mr. Borrden don’t want nuthin’ to do with no “indigestable Irish starch” he says. He often asks for mutton broth and eats it like there’s no tomorrow. I guess he don’t know that mutton broth is Irish.

Here’s my recipe that ain’t half bad, if you don’t have it too many days runnin.

MUTTON BROTH

Yer gonna need:

A pound of lamb, best if you can get the lean neck part, which I never do
Diced carrots, as many as you want
2 big onions, chopped up
A turnip, diced
Leeks, 2 chopped ones
Pearl barley, 1 big spoonful
Water, about 8 cups
Salt & pepper
Chopped parsley

Lucky for me Miss Lizzie likes to do all the chopping. I don’t mind it, but if she sees me about to make somethin’ needin’ choppin’ she’ll insist. She told me she’s practicin’—to be a cook I’m sure she meant.

Well, ya cut up the meat into small pieces. Put everything but the parsley in a saucepan. Season this with salt and pepper. Put in the water and put a cover on it. When it’s boilin’ get yer heat down and simmer it for about 2 hours. Then ya stir in the parsley. Make sure ya serve it hot. This feeds 6 people with average appetites.