An Irish adage advises: Go East for a woman; go West for a horse. When I was a girl I had a bicycle. I wanted a horse. That was not in the cards for this city child, so I named my bike Lightening and careened about the neighborhood, crouched racing-low over the handlebars, doing daring (so I thought) one-legged pedal stands, hair flying, pulse pounding, and imagining I was … [Read more...] about Sláinte!: Ballinasloe’s Great October Fair
Food & Drink
Sláinte!: Go, Big Fan, Go
I don’t watch much television. Mainly because, despite the hundreds of channels, the menu is mostly repeats. Every so often, however, something extraordinary airs and I become (dare I admit it?) a Fan. So it was with the now defunct HBO series Deadwood, which depicted the wild and wooly 19th-century Gold Rush days of the Montana Territory. The show regularly drew harsh … [Read more...] about Sláinte!: Go, Big Fan, Go
Sláinte!: Comfort & Coincidence
A Wedding Day and Bloomsday Coincide Coincidences never cease to amaze me. Once is, well, coincidence. Twice, will earn a ‘hmmm.’ Three times, sends the eyebrows soaring. But when something happens over and over and over again, there are undeniable patterns at work. What, you may well wonder, has this to do with Irish culture and food? Blame my dear Da for the tangent along … [Read more...] about Sláinte!: Comfort & Coincidence
Slainte: The Irish Wake
Nearly thirty-eight years ago an exuberant friend named Eddie burst into the office where I was working as assistant to a Hollywood producer commanding, “Come with me right now. I want to introduce you to someone.” Fortunately, I was alone and it was almost five o’clock. As I closed up shop, Eddie paced agitatedly about the room singing the praises of Bill, the stranger he had … [Read more...] about Slainte: The Irish Wake
When Latvian Eyes Are Smiling
Last year they opened a new Irish pub on Main Street here [Milford, Michigan]. O’Callaghan’s they call it, and it’s owned by two Palestinians who did it up in high Paddy style, with snugs and dark hardwoods, Guinness and designer lagers and a couple of imported boyos behind the bar. The décor came from Dublin in a kit. The lads came on their own from Wexford to pull pints, pour … [Read more...] about When Latvian Eyes Are Smiling