Since I can remember, my father never belonged in the kitchen. The man could burn water. In fact, the only time he’d really shine was whipping up a colcannon. This traditional Irish dish is a cozy variation of mashed potatoes, and our family has a special recipe. My grandad raved about it, my dad raves about it, and recently I realized I should, too. Just one problem: nobody ever wrote it down.
Ringing my dad, I questioned him on quantities (“eyeball it”) and ingredients (“use proper butter, something like Kerrygold”). Controversially, he was convinced that I should use white onion, not scallions (aka, green onions). I have a sneaky feeling that the original recipe favored the latter — apologies in advance, grandad. Still, after researching online, the two seemed acceptably interchangeable. I decided against rocking the boat.
The irony that I’ve eaten this dish for years isn’t lost on me. But with ingredients collected, I’m flying solo. Here’s my first attempt at recreating my family’s tried-and-tested colcannon.
First, gather and rinse the ingredients.
STEP 1: Boil the potatoes. I breathed a sigh of relief at this stage. Boil a couple of potatoes? That I can remember. Dad preaches about leaving the skin on, so I followed suit.
STEP 2: Chop half the cabbage and onion. As for chopping the onion and cabbage? I didn’t wait for the potato skins to start lifting. Cutting the onion in half, I used a mandoline to chop small pieces. Size doesn’t matter as much with the cabbage, which I remembered would wilt dramatically, so I roughly sliced half.
STEP 3: My first experience cooking colcannon was a baptism in blind faith. I’d asked Dad about butter quantities, and he’d only repeated “very.” I melted 50 grams in a pan and figured that was a good start. Adding the onion first, I let it bask in butteriness for an uninterrupted minute. Then I threw in the cabbage, seasoned with salt and pepper, and allowed everything to sizzle.
STEP 4: Stirring the mixture occasionally, I turned my attention to mashing the potatoes, which were now delicately dancing in the bubbles, skins fluttering. Our family has never made creamy colcannon. Smooth but rustic is the vibe, something I proudly achieved with a potato masher and spoon.
STEP 5: Toss the cabbage and onion into the mashed potatoes (with another 25 grams of butter for good measure).
As a grand finale? I was obsessed. Heavy-handed pepper and an extra dash of butter worked well, and I kept darting back for an extra spoonful. It’s hearty and comforting; perfect “fuel for the soul.”
Inherited recipes are never straightforward. Grandad would have probably preferred scallions. Dad would definitely add more potatoes. Perhaps I’ve found my own version, though. Part of the beauty of family recipes is these tiny adaptations. Besides, at least we’ve finally written it down.