Trilogies + Seedy Treats

The Country Girls + Pasteli (Sesame Honey Bars)

These past couple weeks have been crazy at work, leaving little time for the kind of reading and cooking I love (hours on the daybed and inventive dinners nightly, respectively). Instead, I’ve been sneaking in pages of an Irish gem at odd hours and relying on sustenance in the form of a batch of Greek treats that have been haunting me since my trip. Read on for both below. 

Read 

The Country Girls Trilogy by Edna O’Brien, pub. 1960, 1962, 1964
Buy: Thriftbooks.com or your local used bookstore

If you aren’t familiar with Edna O’Brien, tuck in: An Irish novelist known for writing about verboten social issues and women yearning for freedom from the confines of deeply religious upbringings, she published The Country Girls (the first book in her beloved trilogy) in 1960; it was promptly banned by the Irish censorship board (soon followed by the second and third parts) and O’Brien was made to look a fool in her homeland. Despite her exile she never stopped writing (she was a poet and playwright as well) and never lost her verve. 

In a wonderful coincidence, as I was reading The Country Girls, one of my favorite podcasts, Desert Island Discs, was on summer break and was re-releasing classic episodes in the interim. Guess who was the featured guest? Kirsty Young originally interviewed O’Brien in 2007 yet the discussion feels timeless. She discusses her upbringing, her experience with being banned in her country of origin, and her devotion to her art – along with wonderful music, of course. One quote struck me so deeply that I immediately recorded it in my Notes app so I could revisit it whenever I need inspiration: “To write, you have to feel the imminence, if not the actuality, of love.” Slay.

How could you not love the writing of a woman who literally pulled that quote out of thin air?! I tore through the Country Girls and am currently halfway through The Lonely Girl (the second part of the trilogy); Girls in Their Married Bliss (I sense sarcasm, do you?) is the third and final book and I can’t wait to get into it. The trilogy follows two girls, Caithleen (our narrator) and Bridget (aka Baba), childhood friends (and, tbh, enemies) who grow up in rural Ireland amid fiercely strict expectations, both religious and societal. They fight and make up like clockwork. Caithleen is insecure, timid and internal; Baba is vivacious, tenacious and dogged. When tragedy strikes, Caithleen moves in with Baba and her family. She eventually wins a scholarship to a prestigious convent and Baba joins her as a fellow student. Let’s just say the sisters aren’t what you’d call chill. The girls buck against the confines of their new home and yearn for the country, its simplicity and straightforwardness. 

In true Irish fashion, O’Brien is a beautiful writer, capturing both the landscape and the characters that dot it. There is copious drinking, abuse and unhappiness, all keenly and non-judgmentally observed through O’Brien’s fine lens and Caithleen’s youthful gaze. I felt as if I were right alongside the girls in their cramped convent quarters, my pulse quickening with each of their transgressions. 

The Lonely Girl takes us to Dublin, where the girls, now 18, are living together in a rental with an incredibly charismatic landlady who speaks broken English and treats them with an equal dose of fierceness and love. Baba – spritely, bawdy – chases a social life rife with dances and men well above her age, and drags Caithleen – awkwardly tall and repeatedly referred to as having a ‘plump bottom’ (lol) — along with her. Despite the trilogy plot being pretty mellow, O’Brien’s writing is propulsive (at least to me) and I can’t wait to read what happens next. I’ll be sure to keep you posted. If the books don’t sound like they’re up your alley, though, I implore you to listen to O’Brien’s Desert Island Discs episode, at the very least!

Eat

In Apollonia, we stumbled upon a magical shop called Gerontopoulos. Picture this: a charming village tucked in the Greek mountains. A storefront stacked with every artisanal Greek / Sifnosian treat imaginable, from olive oil, capers, dried herbs and olives to dried fruit, jams and roughly 50 different types of confections. An ancient Greek man at the register, clearly the proprietor, who, after ringing you up for your treats, opens a little container and offers you a dried prune. SWOON! Needless to say we went back every single day for sesame bars, aka pasteli, aka a truly perfect, simple sweet. Sesame seeds are bound with honey, sprinkled with salt and spread in a thick swath on a baking sheet until set. I made them the other week and miraculously still have all my teeth.

Notes: This recipe uses a 1:1 ratio of sesame seeds to honey, so you can make as few or many bars as you’d like. Keep in mind you want the bars to be about ½” thick. I used a ¼ sheet tray here, which made roughly 25 small bars. They keep basically forever in a well-sealed container. If you have a candy thermometer this recipe will be even easier.

Pasteli
Makes ¼ sheet tray’s worth

7 ounces sesame seeds 
7 ounces honey
Pinch fine salt

In a large pan over medium-low heat, toast the sesame seeds until golden. In a saucepan over high heat, heat the honey to 250F on a candy thermometer and boil for 2-3 minutes (if you don’t have a thermometer, bring the honey to a boil and let her rip for 6-ish minutes). Lower the heat, mix in sesame seeds and a pinch of salt, stir well and continue to cook for 2-3 more minutes. Drop a tiny spoonful of the mixture into a cup of water. If it stays together, it’s ready. If it breaks apart, keep stirring and testing until the spoonful stays intact. Grease two pieces of parchment paper and use one of them to line your baking sheet or chosen vessel, then tip the mixture onto the sheet. Cover with the second piece of greased parchment and press down firmly with your palms so the mixture sets evenly. Peel off the top sheet of parchment and let the mix cool and harden (about 20 minutes), then cut into bars. These would make a great holiday gift as they’re super shelf-stable!