No ashes without fire...

"There is confidence everywhere in Ash Wednesday, yet that does not mean unmixed and untroubled security. The confidence of the Christian is always a confidence in spite of darkness and risk, in the presence of peril, with every evidence of possible disaster…

Once again, Lent is not just a time for squaring conscious accounts: but for realising what we had perhaps not seen before. The light of Lent is given us to help us with this realisation."

(From "Ash Wednesday", Thomas Merton)

Ash Wednesday finds us early this year. The first day of Lent, it seems ironic to point ourselves down the forty day rocky road towards Easter, the day before the supermarket choc-fest of St Valentine's Day. I know that Ash Wednesday ushers in a time of reflection and repentance, but I find it quite a hopeful day; I like having my forehead crossed and I like seeing other folk, away from the church, going about their daily business with their own crosses still in place. Beyond the Biblical symbolism of humility and mortality, we simply do all have our crosses to bear. There's even a kind of solidarity in it. 

I'm old enough now to realise that the greatest part of repentance isn't all in the acknowledgement of what I've done wrong or failed to do at all; it's in the willingness to put behind and to put right. Just as "Lent" derives from the Anglo Saxon "lencten", for springtime, meaningful repentance has to enfold hopefulness and renewal. For the first time in years, I really "get" that Ash Wednesday's crosses aren't just a more viable echo of the sackcloth and ashes of the Old Testament. I can more easily appreciate the mark on my forehead as a reminder of baptism: perhaps I'm growing up after all.
Certainly, I feel I know myself better than to go through the motions of "giving up" chocolate for Lent yet again: I only eat it as a treat and have just as much of a savoury tooth as a sweet one. And I know I'll invariably reach for a bar of dark chili chocolate after Easter; it would only be a temporary, niggling hardship. My sister always says it'll be "a lifetime on the hips" as I reach for a third biscuit, but untended regrets can do far more damage elsewhere. Aristotle noticed that:"Bad men are full of repentance." I think he knew a thing or two about the great untended elsewheres.

So maybe I should give up some deeper comfort zone: some situations and people can make me very uncomfortable and I retreat behind friends, excuses or naturally occurring delays and barriers. I so often allow myself to be thwarted by criticism, disdain or indifference. This Lent, I should give up giving up so easily. More tricky but far more rewarding for me personally than simply steering past the KitKats and Crunchies in Salisbury's. Although navigating past a bay of bargain treacle tarts might require assistance from in-store security.

"Distant Sun" might seem an odd choice of music for an Ash Wednesday post: if you're looking a traditional sombreness, you might well dismiss it as pop music, playing at being precious. And indeed if you want pop-rock in pure Beatles style then look no further than Crowded House, or Oasis. But I digress: this remains one of my favourite songs, pop or otherwise, because Neil Finn's lyrics seem to be about redeeming and renewing oneself; the possibility of changing and moving forward without forever casting an eye back to excuse or justify.
Have a soothing Ash Wednesday and a hopeful Lent.

"You're still so young to travel so far, 

Old enough to know who you are: 

Wise enough to carry the scars 

Without any blame; there's no one to blame"

"Distant Sun"  Crowded House

"A man who fails well is greater than one who succeeds badly."

(Thomas Merton)

Food to shrive for...

Today is Shrove Tuesday, usually referred to as Pancake Day, of course the day before Ash Wednesday. In the times of truly strictly observed Lenten fasting, Shrove Tuesday was a day of feasting and merriment. Pancake recipes were a good way of using up richer, fatty foods such as eggs, milk, butter and sugar. Liturgical recommendations, by the Catholic church and other Christian denominations, emphasised plain foods and refraining from rich foods for the 40 days of Lent. However, the righteous were also called to church on Shrove Tuesday to confess their sins and be "shriven" before Lent began. The words shrove and subsequently shriven, derive from the Old English word "scrifan": to prescribe. People would be shriven of their sins; the priest would prescribe their penance to enable their absolution before Lent. Folklore has it that the traditional pancake race originated in Olney, Buckinghamshire, as far back as 1440, when a housewife was still making pancakes as the church-bells tolled for the Shriving Service. Rather than be wasteful and leave them, she ran to the church with the batter in her frying pan, turning it as she went. In Olney and elsewhere, pancake races still take place each year: tossing pancakes has become a culinary art.

 

As a vegetarian, I love my cakes, biscuits and chocolate spread. With 40 days of confectionery-free days looming, I'll be off to make my pancakes before this post has settled on the screen. But my Irish side, which tends to come to fore where food is concerned, reminds me that the beginning of February was the feast of St Brigid of Ireland, the Abbess of Kildare and the spiritual patroness of all Irish nuns.. In days gone by, Irish housewives and cooks would honour this feisty and much loved saint as the patroness of the dairy cattle, who loved to cook to feed the poor, with recipes including butter AND buttermilk and also traditionally potatoes. This is my kind of cooking. "Boxty" pancakes - poorhouse bread - was traditional fare on the feast of St Brigid centuries ago, originating in the north west of Ireland. Boxty pancakes are still popular in Northern Ireland today; certainly my Antrim-born mother must have taught my Belgian Dad the recipe. He made them with generously with lashings of butter, throughout the year.

As I've now made myself hungry, here is the recipe for:

Boxty - Irish Potato Pancakes

Ingredients:
2-1/2 cups sifted all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon sugar
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
2 eggs
2-1/2 cups buttermilk
1 cup freshly grated raw potato
2 tablespoons melted butter or margarine
1 teaspoon vanilla
butter
sugar

(Makes 3 dozen 4-inch pancakes)

Way To Go:
Mix and sift flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Beat eggs lightly in a large bowl; stir in the buttermilk. Now stir in the dry ingredients, mixing just until blended (batter will be slightly lumpy). Stir in grated potato, butter or margarine, and vanilla.

Spoon the batter, just a 1/4 cup for each pancake, onto greased heated pan or griddle. Cook for 2 or 3 minutes, until bubbles form on top and the underside is golden. Turn the pancake over to repeat.

Serve at once, with plenty of butter. Sprinkle generously with sugar, the Irish way, and enjoy.

Don't wait until the next Pancake Day.

"Take me to the Mardi Gras"  Paul Simon