I’ve been in Ireland six weeks now. Gone from one season into another. Which makes me really really want to talk about fashion. Fall. Love fall clothes. Riding boots and knit scarves and cashmere and black…
I’m not going to talk about fashion.
It’s time. I’m finally going to answer the question I have gotten pretty much daily from afar…
“How’s the food?”
What’s funny to me is that most people aren’t asking whether I, a vegetarian who doesn’t really like potatoes, can find things to eat. Because the question is frequently somber, usually serious, and almost invariably followed by, “I’ve heard there’s amazing Irish cuisine everywhere!”
When did that happen? When did people start equating Ireland, land of potatoes and bacon, with curried foam and Wylie Dufresne and restaurants known only by their addresses?
Quick answer. Dinner was great, thanks, and (I will take a hit for this, I fear), “Irish cuisine” is still on my list of good oxymorons, right behind “congressional discretion” and “pet cat”.
That said, there are plenty of really terrific restaurants all over the country–not just in Dublin–and I betcha a few serve curried foam. Deliberately. There is a huge organic movement in full swing, we have a fab Sunday farmers’ market a few blocks away, and my local Tesco carries most of the produce I eat. There are just less options than our American overabundance. Like I can get winter squash at Tesco now, but only butternut; I think I saw hokkaido ay one shop all the way down in Greystones, and kabocha might be a pipe dream. Plus, if it ain’t local, it can be crazy expensive. I don’t mind that in theory. I understand and try not to contribute to the problems inherent in jetting pineapples and mangoes to Ireland. But I do balk at paying 5 euros for a handful of greenbeans. Greenbeans.
Anyway. I could get very soapboxy on that subject. Instead, I’m sparing us all the time and drama with a handy dandy Ten List: my top five Yays and Sighs about eating in Ireland.
1. Sigh. It’s still a potato and bacon country (see above: vegetarian, doesn’t love potatoes). There are seventy-three kinds of bacon at my Tesco. One lone tofu. That said, there’s some pretty world-class bacon, even on the supermarket shelf. And the potatoes taste like…well, something. Unlike American potatoes which, IMO, tend to only taste like whatever they’re cooked in. Including tasty yet slightly mysterious and alarming deep frying oils. Irish potatoes simply taste good, simply. Plus, sometimes they look like this.
That one was spared the pot. We named it “Spud” and it lives on the kitchen counter.
2. Yay. Good salad greens from romaine to watercress to baby chard. Wonderful, abundant cruciferous veggies. Kale, brussels sprouts, savoy and York and plain round cabbage, even bok choy. The second-tier grocery store here regularly has romanesco broccoli on the shelf. If you like those frequently tough, occasionally stinky green veggies, this is a cook’s paradise. I love frequently tough, occasionally stinky green veggies.
3. Yay. Tea. I don’t think I’ve ever had a bad cup of tea here. Nah, impossible, right? There must have been a broken bag somewhere down the years, one left in too long or not long enough, burned leaves, icky water… I’m sure I’ve had a bad cuppa, but I can’t remember it. Even the cheapest tea bag tea tastes good here. Must be the undeniable, irrefutable, tangible magic of this country. Because it sure ain’t the water…
4. Sigh. The water that comes out of the tap smells unpleasant and tastes worse. I can put up with a lot when it comes to drinking and cooking water, as long as it isn’t unhealthy. The water in Dublin isn’t unhealthy. Just awful. A filter pitcher helps a little. Not much.
5. Yay. A multinational population that has grown exponentially in the last twenty years. Meaning today I went to a Chinese market because I wanted gai lan and vegetarian short ribs (love this version, never seen elsewhere–I really should post a pic when I cook them; they’re pink and have a sugar cane “bone” stuck through each piece). Next week I’ll go to a Korean market for kimchi or the Indian market for the mindboggling selection of daal. There are three regional Italian restaurants in Dun Laoghaire alone (Himself Jr swears the pizza at Oliveto is the best in Ireland). There is an entire Polish section in my Tesco. I haven’t a clue what that jar of Kwidzyn Salatka Obiadowa really is, but it looks like something I would eat. Fallon and Byrne, my ab fave food shop in Dublin, has a section for every continent. Okay, maybe not, but they do have the most amazing world-herbs-and-spices section. Plus, they have real Amurricun Cheerios. Madam, a dedicated Cheerios consumer, doesn’t like the ones on the supermarket shelves. They’re too sweet here. How can I possibly say no to, “Mommy, please buy the Cheerios without too much sugar.”? I won’t tell you what I pay for a box of imported Cheerios. Too embarrassing. And then there’s that whole jet fuel thang…
6. Sigh. I have yet to find really good, really authentic Japanese food. Wagamamas is yummy, but just not the same as homemade umboshi and stirfried burdock.
7. Sigh. No diners. We love breakfast-for-dinner, coffee mugs with inch-thick rims, and waitresses named Wanda. We have discovered the hard way that the places advertising All Day Breakfast are usually just pubs that start serving beer at 9am. That said, if you’re a carnivore with a healthy heart, few things beat a true, well-prepared Irish Breakfast. Go look it up. I’m reserving a parenthetical moment for another time.
8. Yay. Some things I would never ordinarily eat, but are just too much a part of my Ireland–and, okay, fine, yummy–for me to ignore completely. Jaffa cakes, Club Orange, 99s, Cadbury Dairy Milk bars…
9. Sigh. Fruit is mostly flown in, almost invariably wrapped in plastic, and often kinda tasteless. I’m spoiled in the US, even in Pennsylvania. The stone fruit season is longer than one might think, local summer berries are amazing, and there are so many varieties of apples at the fall farmers’ market that it’s almost painful to have to choose. Here, it’s four or five. Although I gotta say, it used to just be two. And I found some beautiful little Braeburns yesterday: crisp, sweet-tart, and loose. I have apples. Happymaking.
10. Yay. My in-laws live just down the street. Love them. For many reasons, among which is that, not only do they like us, too, but my mother-in-law is a good cook, especially when it comes to stuff my kids love, like chicken and potatoes, and she likes to feed us. She always roasts something cruciferous for me. Lately, we’ve been hosting them a lot. Love them. For many reasons, among which is that they are endlessly appreciative of my cooking, even when it’s experimental and not-entirely-successful. They should enjoy tomorrow’s dinner, whose primary ingredients have been making me smile since I bought them.
Dinner tomorrow: hearty roasted-aubergine (eggplant)-tomato soup with parmesan crostini (I will be having puffy tofu croutons, but that’s a story for another time), rocket(arugula)-walnut salad, and organic pasta shaped like the Simpsons because, much as I hope and dream otherwise, Madam and Himself Jr won’t eat the soup.
See. Needed those extra parentheses…
Finally. Anyone with a really really good recipe for cabbage–or potatoes–or bacon, please send it.