We have been going to stay at Ballymaloe House for twenty five years. We first arrived there on our bicycles, having taken the train from Dublin with the bikes in the Guard’s van, then cycled on the old road through Carrigtoohill and Cloyne and on to the house itself. Ballymaloe surprised us back then – Myrtle Allen clearing tables late on a Saturday night! that Milleens cheese like nothing we had ever tasted! the dessert trolley! – and today, after twenty five years, Ballymaloe can still surprise you with the simplest things.
This time it was a breakfast in late September that seemed to have culled the trees and verges just to feed you something nice first thing in the morning.
There is freshly grated apple muesli, with blackberries. There are apples stewed with sweet geranium. There is apple and blackberry compote. Jersey milk yogurt. Poached plums. There is breakfast fruit salad. There is Macroom porridge, and nut and grain muesli, and granola. And mustard-yellow jersey butter.
Its like a breakfast from the garden of Eden, a breakfast from before the Fall, from a time when the link between nature and the daily meal hadn't been severed, but instead existed as an umbilical culinary fact
And because it's seems so simple, it also seems to convey an astonishing purity, not just of the seasonal flavours, but also of the philosophy of Ballymaloe itself.
Ballymaloe is all about connections: it's all about finding what crosses and intersects with the things around us and it is, therefore, a holistic place to visit, and a holistic place to eat. Logic and lusciousness determine its daily rhythms, and there is nowhere like it. Even breakfast feels freshly minted, concocted without cliché, prepared with respect for the food, and respect for the eater.
Contact them at res@ballymaloe.ie or Tweet them @Ballymaloe
www.ballymaloe.ie
