We arrive!

After a bit of a delay, we finally arrived in Ireland. I think seeing the Irish landscape as we were landing made us appreciate our arrival so much more, since we had been through so much along our journey. We flew into Dublin which wasn't our normal airport. We're used to the West Coast of Ireland and we usually fly into Shannon, but the flight into Dublin was at a price we couldn't refuse. We grabbed our rental car; the smallest little roller skate of a car you could imagine, but hey, we're were trying to be frugal and save a few bucks so we went super economy. We rolled our suitcases out the the rental lot and stopped a few feet from the car to look at each other telepathically with the same question in our heads. How on earth would our luggage fit in this teeny tiny little car? We maneuvered our backs several times then finally, after nearly sitting on the trunk to get it to close, we were off! Oh wait, they drive on the left side of the roads here! Damn, we almost forgot! This can be challenging for anyone, but throw a manual transmission into the mix and you've got yourself quite an interesting situation. It takes a little getting used to, and having a co-pilot on hand to remind you when you're driving on the wrong side of the road is very helpful, I'd highly recommend it!

We headed out on the N3 towards Donegal which was the furthest point north we could stay without actually staying in the north. Northern Ireland is still under British rule and their currency is the pound which is has an even worse exchange rate than the Euro. On the way to Donegal we came to a toll road where we had to pay 1.30 to enter. Courtney sorted through change while I drove up to the window to pay. I drove up to the window, or what I thought was the window with the left side up against where the attendant should be. Or should be if you were in America. Courtney aka co-pilot reminded me that the window was on my side. That would have been helpful to know as we were approaching the window, not while we were nearly through. In a panic, still getting acclimated to the left hand drive, I attempted to back up, but couldn't get our little roller skate into reverse. Crap! That's just what we need, already a day late getting into Ireland, now we'll have to take the car back because it's broken, with the reverse feature not working. Great! I jump out of the car and run across to the window to pay my toll and the nice young man seeing my frustration, tells me that there's a lever you have to pull up in order to get the car into reverse. What a life saver! We might have driven all the way back to Dublin if it weren't for him. I blushed slightly, okay, a lot, and thanked him profusely, jumped back into the car and didn't look back. Donegal here we come! We have a tradition that when we arrive in Ireland we stop at the first pub we find upon leaving the airport for a pint, so in keeping with tradition, we did make a stop before arriving in Donegal.

Our first two nights were at Rossmore Manor, which looked like a small castle about 5 kilometers outside of town. We arrived just in time to catch the sunset breaking through the clouds over Donegal Bay and as our Pappy said... Savor every sunset, so we took a moment and a photo then headed to town for dinner. Our first meal in Ireland and we couldn't wait! We stopped for a pint at the first somewhat normal pub we found. We walked in and the record scratched. You know how that goes. Everyone stops and looks up from what they're doing and gives you a look like you might as well have three eyes and have just gotten off your spaceship from Mars. Yeah, that's exactly how this was and we were the only women in the place. Can you say awkward! Once we ordered our pints we took one look around and realized this was a betting or gambling pub. FYI, there's a lot, I mean A LOT of gambling that happens in Ireland. Nearly every town has several betting shops, some inside pubs, some not. People bet on everything from horse races, to greyhounds and even NFL games in the states. We couldn't finish our beer fast enough. On to dinner...

Donegal really only has one decent restaurant in town, maybe they have more but we never found them. The Castle Bar was good to us both nights. They're a pub and restaurant, very common in Ireland serving some award winning food and the plaques indicating so on the door certainly do not lie. They had a wonderful, inexpensive early bird special that allowed us to try a few different things. Here's what we had;

To start, Smoked chicken salad, seafood chowder, with brown bread of course!
Main Course, Pan Seared Hake over sauteed spinach with lemony butter sauce and a balsamic reduction. Steamed Mussels with Coriander and Sweet Chili. This was accompanied by a few pints of the dark stuff and maybe a little whiskey too. Tomorrow, we head north!

View from our bed and breakfast. Sunset over Donegal Bay.

Smoked chicken salad with brown bread and a pint of Guinness. 

Going back to the Mother Land, slowly but surely

After nearly 5 years, I finally made it back to Ireland. Well almost. We had a bit of a delay in getting there. Since my visits were so frequent in the years before, I honestly didn't think it would be so long before I would be able to get back. But as they say; time flies when you're having fun and work and school and life just happens and before you know it, it's been 5 years since you've been back to Ireland. Minus a sibling, Ross couldn't make it due to work commitments, Courtney and I made the trek back to spend two glorious weeks among the lush green rolling hills, the fat happy cows and sheep that dotted the countryside and the pubs. Oh the pubs. The pubs that would supply us endlessly with pint after frothy pint of velvety black stout, or as we learned recently it's actually ruby red in color, more about that later.

We headed out from Sonoma County early on Monday morning November 4th. Two weeks was by far the longest trip we had taken, aside from my time living there, so we planned to take advantage of the extra time and explore some areas we hadn't before. 

At the airport, we spotted Buena Vista which is a San Francisco staple for good Irish Coffees. While not truly authentic, they sure hit the spot, especially right before a flight to Ireland. They're slightly sweet with rich coffee, spicy Irish Whiskey and a dollop of whipped cream on top. Now if that doesn't get you in an Irish state of mind then I don't know what will. As we made our way to the gate, we quickly learned that the plane hadn't arrived yet and we would be delayed by two hours. Yikes! Our connecting flight in Chicago was just two hours after our arrival and the possibility of catching that flight was now looking grim. Courtney remained optimistic, while I planned for the worse case scenario. Upon arrival into Chicago, the staff of United seemed to think that Aer Lingus may hold the plane for us since there were so many of us traveling on to Ireland from our flight, but no one from United could tell us for sure. Note to self, avoid flying United Airlines whenever possible. Their customer service is just awful. We only had one option at this point... Run like hell to Terminal 5 which was roughly 2 miles from our current gate. And so we ran, we ran with our carry on bags passed the Hudson News stands, the airport bars, the Wetzel's Pretzels and then we ran some more. If you've ever seen Home Alone, when the family is running through the Chicago airport trying to catch their flight to France, you'll get the idea. That was Courtney and I and another lovely couple who we met while running who were from Belfast. When we arrived at terminal 5 by tram, oh, did I mention there was a tram involved in the two mile trip, we were horrified to see that the computer monitor said our flight had departed. We quickly asked someone what our options where and they said, "Dublin? Oh it hasn't left yet!" Huh? Well okay, so we run, again, through security, remove shoes, belts, phones to arrive at gate M5 with not a soul to be found. We had in fact missed our flight. Back to Terminal 1 to get a hotel for the night, courtesy United thank goodness, and our flight sorted out for tomorrow. We would have to wait for the same flight, which wouldn't leave until 7 p.m. so that meant we'd be spending the day in Chicago. We'd never seen Chicago before so we relished at the opportunity, although we would now be arriving in Ireland a day later. At the ticket counter while we waited for a terribly unfriendly United associate to sort out our hotel, we met a woman named Sarah who also missed the flight with us. She was traveling alone and was returning home to Belfast for her annual visit but had been living in Calistoga for the past 30 years. Calistoga? That's where our family was from! Turned out, Sarah knew our Mother, and Grandparents and had even rented a house in town from our Grandfather. Small world. Later that evening at the hotel's restaurant, while I sipped wine, Courtney a beer and ate shoe leather burgers, we ran into Sarah and over another round of drinks, we decided we'd all take the train into downtown Chicago in the morning, since we'd have quite a bit of time to kill. 

In the morning we headed to the concierge desk and met a lovely older woman named Bobby who was a Chicago native and sounded like she had smoked a pack of cigarettes a day for the past 40 years. She told us the best sights to see in our limited amount of time and within minutes we were on the train towards downtown. We strolled down the Magnificent Mile and were amazed at the incredible Art Deco design of the buildings that was build after the Great Chicago Fire of 1871. At the end of the mile, we were cold and a little thirsty so we stopped at the John Handcock building for a drink. We took the elevator up 95 floors, which took all of about 30 seconds and had cocktails at the Signature Room. Courtney had Bourbon Apple Spice drink that was served warm and made with maple bourbon, ginger liquor and apple cider. I had a Maple Bacon Manhattan, that was actually served with a piece of bacon. After drinks we went to "the Bean," also known as Cloud Gate at Millennium Park before heading back to the hotel to gather our things before heading to the airport. We couldn't do this though,

before sampling some authentic Chicago style pizza, then eventually, finally, onto Ireland!

Cocktails at the Signature Room on the 95th floor of the John Handcock building.

Courtney and I with our new friend Sarah at "The Bean" in Millennium Park.

A true deep dish pizza from Pizano's. We were told only two people know the recipe 

for the dough. 

It's that time of year again...........

T minus 15 days till St. Paddys. The be all, end all holiday in my book. Sure I love Christmas and Thanksgiving as much as the next, but there's something about this time of year and this particular holiday, that makes me come alive. Maybe it's the beautiful lush, rolling green hills of my sleepy farm town of Petaluma, with the specks of newly born spring lamb that graze the hills or the grey drizzle that still looms the sky. Ah, heck it could even be the flow of Guinness running through in my blood! I think St. Patrick's Day just reminds me of Ireland. A single day to celebrate the joy of what is Irish. Great food, an abundance of stout and whiskey of course, but more importantly good friends and family. Although the St. Patrick's Day celebration in America is just another typical Tuesday night at the local pub in Ireland, the Irish sure know how to feckin party! So with that said, I've decided to share one of my favorite things to make this time of year. A traditional Irish Soda Bread. (A recipe for potatoes would have been a bit too predictable) This is one of the easiest breads to make, no yeast or countless rising necessary, and it's also one of the first things I learned to make at Ballymaloe Cookery School. Eat it with some soup or stew or even just a nice tall pint of the dark stuff.

This bread is also very versatile. You can add raisins or currants for a Spotted Dog bread, a mix of chopped herbs or my personal fav, chocolate chips for a Stripy Cat. Don't ask.

White Soda Bread

makes 1 loaf

Preheat oven to 475

3 1/3 cups unbleached flour

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

up to 1 pint buttermilk

Sift all the dry ingredients in a large bowl. Make a well in the center.

Pour in 3/4 of the buttermilk. Using one hand in the shape of a claw,

stir mixture in a circular motion from the center to the outside of

the bowl incorporating all of the flour. The mixture should be soft and

not too wet or sticky. Add remaining buttermilk as needed.

Once the mixture has all come together, turn dough out on to a lightly

floured work surface. Wash and dry your hands. Tidy up the edges of the

dough to make a round loaf. Move to a baking sheet. Take a large chopping

knife and cut a deep cross the top of the loaf. Then prick each corner of the

cross. This is part of the Irish folklore to ward off evil spirits by making the

shape of a cross. The pricking of the corners is to let the "fairies" out and

not to jinx the bread. This is a time honored tradition and not a single loaf

of soda bread is made in Ireland without this step.

Bake the bread in the oven at 475 for 15 minutes, then turn down the oven

to 400 for another 30 or until cooked. The bread is done when you hear a

hollow sound when you tap the bottom of the loaf.

My favorite way to eat this bread is warm, fresh out of the oven with Kerrygold

Irish butter. You can really use any butter you like, but Kerrygold will give you

the best cozy, feels like you're in Ireland experience. There really is no comparison.

Once the bread has cooled it's nice toasted with Kerrygold and some yummy jam.

Enjoy!

Sláinte!

As a way to bring folks up to speed, I've decided to start from the beginning and provide a little background and history about myself and why I decided to start this blog.

2 1/2 years ago, I decided to leave my life as I knew it and move to Ireland. I left my job in real estate where although the money was often good, I knew my heart and true calling lye elsewhere. I knew this was a bold move, but I felt it was a risk worth taking to follow my heart and pursue my dream. So upon deciding what to do once I arrived in Ireland, I was faced with quite a pickle. I could find work, in a pub or restaurant, but that would be too typical. I wanted something more. I knew I loved food, and had always toyed with the idea of attending culinary school, although the CIA and Le Cordon Bleu were of no interested to me. Was there such a thing as a cooking school in Ireland? Ahhhhhh yes, I would soon discover there would be. But a cooking school in Ireland? What would the curriculum consist of? Potatoes? Soda Bread?

Enter Ballymaloe Cookery School in Southern County Cork. Shanagarry to be exact. 500 yards from the beach among the rolling hills and grazing cows. This would be the adventure of a lifetime.

Stay tuned....more to follow......

Aaaaah, I find myself sick with a terrible cold. First one in nearly 2 years. What's a foodie to do when you can't taste anything? Soup, yeah ok, a warm substance that you can't decipher any flavors in. Those look like bits of chicken and carrot, but I sure as hell can't taste it. Hopefully the tea will help and my palate will return before too long.

I've decided to start this blog as a way to share my passion for food, among many other things, with friends, family and anyone else out there who cares to tune in. Along with some of my recipes, food ideas, an occasional restaurant review and other miscellaneous tid bits, you might also find some random rants or raves about the every so controversial subject of love. Bare with me, I don't claim to be any sort of a writer or even decent at that, but I do have a love for the subject of food as I'm sure many others out there can relate to, so perhaps you'll find something somewhere along the line that sparks an interest to you. Enjoy!