Happy Saint Patrick's Day

"Land of Heart's Desire, Where beauty has no ebb, decay, no flood,
But joy is wisdom, time an endless song."

Ireland is faerie mist and pubs,

Carefully penned words and laughter,

Abundant salmon: have some on me.

Salmon with lemon-cream chive sauce

And dreams. Happy Saint Patrick's Day!

Magical Galway

The August Cover Girl dinner was a wee bit late. We were in Ireland! Although back stateside, little pieces of my spirit stayed in Ireland to ensure I would return. Below is a peek at Galway - in the west of Ireland.

"And walk among long dappled grass, and pluck till time and times are done
The silver apples of the moon, the golden apples of the sun" - Yeats

Ireland: Land of faeries, romance, leprechauns, Yeats, Joyce, Guinness and Italian food! I had been told prior to going to Ireland that if I was looking for Shepherd's Pie and Irish stew, I had best stick to the little towns. We started off in Galway and indeed found as many Italian restaurants as could be found in Little Italy in New York City.

McCambridges on Quay Street provided us with some grand wake-me-up caffeine complete with a small doughnut housing some wickedly, dense dark, velvety chocolate.

McCambidges also housed the largest vats of pesto I had ever seen. I wondered if there were fields of basil about.

We did have some fresh and filling fish and chips at Rodeo on Quay Street.

And remained amused that we had been travelling for over over twenty-four hours only to wind up in an American-western themed bar! With French servers!

After a wee bit of rest, we found our bearings and embraced the true Irish pubs of Galway. Each one has a story - many dating back to medieval times. The King's Head on High Street is so named because (much to the misery of the locals) it was taken over by a group of Englishman after the Siege of Galway ended in 1652. One of the officers, Colonel Peter Stubbers boasted there that "he knew the strength of Charles Stuart's neck" implying the he was the executioner of King Charles. He should have remained quiet! When the monarchy was restored he was blackmailed by his listener - a Mr. Deane who used the capital to buy an estate in Balroebuck, Tuam. Is the story true? The Deane's did have an estate in Balroebuck and the Stubbers continued to own the pub until 1912. You decide.

And who cannot be charmed by the Druid Lane Restaurant? Housed in a medieval building (1663), the restaurant offers a diverse menu and wine bar. It was the perfect stop after walking the Claddagh and Galway Beach.

"Although I can see him still, The freckled man who goes to a grey place on the hill. In grey Connemara clothes, At dawn to catch his flies." Yeats,

"Although I can see him still, The freckled man who goes to a grey place on the hill. In grey Connemara clothes, At dawn to catch his flies." Yeats.

After a day of touring the Burren and the Cliffs of Moher (absolutely do go there, it is quintessential Ireland - magical, enchanting, breathtaking and mysterious), we finally found our traditional Irish meal - at The Western Hotel.

Smoked Salmon mounded around crab salad. James Joyce's favorite Irish meal. Fresh from the Atlantic, delicately prepared with some capers and roasted vegetables, the Irish have elevated salmon into an art.

It was with great sadness that we packed our bags for Dublin. We said good-bye to Eyre Square, where devoured sandwiches, ice creams and waters,

And made our way to east where we would be Dubliners for a few days.

The enchantment, the quirky, the mystical and the food

I am slowly coming out of my emerald isle fog. I became reacquainted with Yeats in Dublin but my heart is on the West Coast of Ireland. I ate mostly Italian food (widely available - but they put cream in their carbonara - my Italian genes were not sure about that - but at least it's great Irish cream!) and also managed fish and chips and salmon.

The quotes are all my beloved Yeats. And while I remain true to my Italian-food heritage, Irish literature has always been part of my spirit.

"Come away, O human child! To the waters and the wild.
With a faery hand-in-hand, for the world's more full of weeping than you could understand"

I searched for a faery and if I had found one I might have followed. But alas, I am not a child.

"But now they drift on the still water; Mysterious, beautiful; Among what rushes they will build,
By what lake's edge or pool
Delight men's eyes when I awake some day
To find they have flown away."

"Although I can see him still, The freckled man who goes to a grey place on the hill
In grey Connemara clothes, At dawn to cast his flies."

"I have spread my dreams under your feet; tread softly because you tread on my dreams."

Amid all the grandeur of Trinity College, there labored a man. Trimming the grass with giant scissors. I smiled.

And now we move on to the food.

Italian pastries at Carlucci's in Dublin.

A late dinner at Da Pino.

Pizza! It translated very well to Gaelic.

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Galway had McCambridges with fresh, small doughnuts filled with chocolate.

Where we got our morning coffee and sat to people watch.

And to gaze on giant barrels of pesto.

The Western Bar in Galway where we finally had an Irish meal - that was truly delectable.And dined on fresh fish.

Salmon with a mound of crab salad, Can you taste the sea air?

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I am slowly coming around to"real life." (Really, really slowly!) And will be visiting you tomorrow. Meanwhile, another excitement came into my life. I shall be reporting on the performing arts in the Twin Cities for Examiner.com. If you are so inclined, visit my article - here - which is an interview from the Minnesota Fringe Festival 2009. I bet some of you guessed I would manage to end this with theatre! Good night for now. Sweet dreams and I will see you tomorrow.