Is Ireland Really Green, Potato-Eating, and Red-Haired ?
There were three things you always heard foreigners say about Ireland and the Irish when you were growing up.
And being actually Irish, and knowing everything, you knew they were talking nonsense, and you would yawn at how tired these wisdoms were.
The Irish eat a lot of potatoes. The grass is very green in Ireland. And there are tons of red-heads in Ireland.
I still don’t like to hear people say any of these things to me. Try it, and just watch me inflict swift pain on your favourite pet. And among Irish people I am not alone.
But anyway back then, balderdash is what you would cry. We don’t eat a lot of potatoes; we eat a normal amount, the normal amount that anybody eats when they have meat, two veg, and potatoes for dinner.
Plus we eat things like pasta and rice now too. And unleavened breads from all over the world and Dublin 8. And we sometimes eat vegetables only, often before we have boiled them into a vapor. Vegetables that melt in your mouth, not in your hand.
And the grass is very green? How green can green be? Isn’t grass green? Do you have blue grass, we would wonder of these casually labelling foreign people?
Look, on a clear day from the Sugarloaf you can see Wales. Snowdonia waves to us across the Irish Sea;often a green sea as it happens, but anyway the point is that we can see that Wales is green. So why are you talking about us being green?
And many Irish people have been to London. We know it has a green belt. Grass is green. Stop telling us Ireland has very green grass; that doesn’t make sense, we proclaim.
And red-heads? I have 27 siblings and none of them have red hair. Yes I have seen people around Ireland with red hair, but they’re scattered around, like cow-pats; you can walk from A to B without getting too close to one.
If everyone had red hair then why would we call them names? Did Ireland have a system of hair apartheid where a minority of blond, and dark-haired folk (with acquiescence from those with colored hair) ruled and abused the majority of the population who happened to have red-hair. Did the Brothers who taught me hide this fact from me. Even Brother Frank, the red-head?
Then you grow up. You emigrate, because nobody told you that you would be rich or even employed if you stayed in Ireland, and you find out you were wrong. About everything.
I have had many dinners in America where I am given a potato. A potato. And not a big one. Not even a medium one. But there it is again, that word. One.
When this happens I always sit in silence, my brain racing around my skull trying to make sense of the scene. A potato. All alone. A single potato. Like a postbox. A delicacy. A side dish. Like a slice of beetroot, or corn on the cob.
It was a side dish at home too, but it was the left side or the right side of your plate. Because it had company. A lot of company.
Even after Spaghetti Bolognaise invaded Ireland, around the same time something called a curry did (a gravy-based meal with apple pieces and sultanas), and potatoes disappeared from a meal, or even two, a week, when you had potatoes, you had potatoes. But even then I didn’t realise how much.
Before moving to the US in the late 1990s, I accompanied some Americans on a trip around Ireland. Near the end of the week I caught two of our visitors laughing, and they were clearly laughing at us. At what, I asked, because I like to laugh at us too and I hadn’t seen anything funny, and they were just looking at their meals. So they told me.
Nonsense, you crazy Americans with your Irish cliches, I said. To what? Well they claimed that in every meal over the seven days of touring, we had two kinds of potato. So they reminded me of every single meal.
Seems I wasn’t counting the croquettes along with the roast potatoes, or the roasties along with the mash, or the chips along with the boiled, or the hash browns along with the fried, the baked potato with the shepherd’s pie, the potato cake with the coddle. I could go on.
Green grass? Kansas City is in the middle of the US. Fly here from any direction, in any season, and look down. That ain’t green. Oh there’s the odd pocket, especially by the big rich houses, but from the sky the grass is brown. And despite the green vegetation in other parts of the world, from the sky nothing carpets with green like grass.
No amount of sugar palm trees or rice fields can compete with the density of green that grass gives. And for all the planting of rapeseed in Ireland’s sunny south east, from the sky, Ireland is still green. I hate to admit that almost as much as I miss having grass under my feet. Even if I did grow up with one foot on concrete.
And then there’s the red hair thing. The BBC has a feature on the abuse of red-heads, for some believed to be a uniquely British phenomenon in its most virulent form, which I thought was nonsense but then again did you know there was such a thing as “anti-red hair hate crime” in the UK? A 20-year-old stabbed in the back in 2003. For having red hair.
Mind you I knew a blonde fella in England who was shot in Mexico in the 1980s. Headlines in the British tabloids all took the same approach: SHOT BECAUSE HE WAS BLONDE.
I can’t quote you figures, but wikipedia can - if you believe it.
Scotland is the country with the highest proportion of redheads in the world. 13 percent of the Scottish population has red hair and approximately 40 percent carry the recessive, so-called “ginger gene”
Ireland has the second highest number of redheads worldwide; as many as 10 percent of the Irish population have ginger or strawberry blond hair. It is thought that up to 35 percent of the Irish population carries the recessive “ginger gene”.
And this is kinda obvious when you travel around other countries. While not everybody in Ireland has red hair, the only slavs I’ve come across with red hair, got it out of a bottle. The same bottle.
And as much as I don’t have red-headed siblings, I do have more red-headed first cousins than I can count. And among the dark-haired members of my family, the beards and sideburns have a tendency to go the auburn route. And that’s just the women.
Give or take the rapidly increasing grey, my own beard is a dark one. But if you look really, really close you will see the very odd auburn hair. Then again if you look really, really close at my beard, I will lick your eyeballs.
See More of Irish Truths:
• Hosting American Tourists in Ireland (and vice versa)
• Do You Eat Turkey at Christmas in Ireland?
• Irish Place Names and Illegals
• History of an Irish Pub
• Fun in Ireland versus Fun in America
• Do You Travel By Train in Ireland?
“If everyone had red hair then why would we call them names?”
Hee, so true.
I get my gingerness from my Irish mammy, but nobody dares insult me because they know I’m funnier than they could ever possibly be about it.
By all means smack the dumb folks who throw stereotypes at you but don’t hit their pets, Eolai.
The grass we had in Kansas was straw colored and filled with the sharpest barbed burrs that stayed embedded in shoes and socks long after we moved. We could never walk outside barefooted. Oh and they burned it down every April or May for the cows. It was like living in hell. Hence the name of your other blog?
There is something to the “green” thing. Why else would Ireland be referred to as the “Emerald Isle”? When approaching Ireland by plane, at a certain point, all you see is green. It’s because the grass stays green all year around. It doesn’t die off like here in KS/MO. And the potato bit… when I was in Ireland for 9 months one year, I was either offered or automatically served some form of potato at every meal. Fried potato for breakfast, chips, mash, boiled, broiled, roasted, and tato crisps to fill in the blanks between all meals. As for the red hair… didn’t particularly see an overwhelming amount of red haired people while in Ireland but I did, by chance, have a beautiful red haired Irish girlfriend that made me feel like there was a lot of reds over there. What a combo… Emerald Isle, spuds at every meal and a genuine red headed Irish lass… where did I go wrong…
Annie - I don’t know what to say, only something not funny.
Medbh - Hit them where it hurts, which may well be on a long snout. Yes. people from Ireland have visited me in KC and usually the second question they ask me is: Brown grass? The first question we’ll cover in a post another day. And as for the Hell question, that’s answered over there in the Q&A section. No, really.
Chris - Ah yes but Chris why isn’t Britain referred to as the Emerald Isle? And why don’t people talk about Ireland’s green and pleasant land? And then there is such a thing as marketing, and Johnny Cash singing about 40 Shades of Green which has lasted longer in the public conscious than the Boomtown Rat’s 60 Shades of Red rebuke.
Your question about where did you go wrong, I could of course answer, but I don’t really have the time right now to start running a whole new blog.
I suspect the expression “Emerald Isle” was dreamed up in Tin Pan Alley. Do you have any figures on the amount of spuds consumed by Americans in the form of crisps and suchlike?
I do Bock, for that is the sort of man I am.
Total consumption in the US of Potatoes in all forms in 1990 was 129lbs per capita. (129lbs =59Kg)
This is broken down as follows (in lbs):
47.4 - Fresh
49.9 - Frozen
17.3 - Chips
12.8 - Dehydrated
1.9 - Canned
Source: 1946-1990. World Supply and Demand Situation, ERS, USDA Handbook of Food Expenditures, Prices, and Consumption Link
This 59 kg per capita in the US compares with Ireland’s per capita potato consumption of 143 kg per year (which surpasses that of rival high consumers in Europe - the Portuguese consume 107 kg per year and Spaniards 106 kg) (Lysaght 1994).
Potato consumption is on the rise in most parts of the world. Average annual per capita consumption is reported to be highest in certain highland regions of Rwanda (153 kg), Peru (100 to 200 kg), and highland Asia (no figures available) (Woolfe 1987), with the largest rate of increase in lowland Asia.
Link - that’s to the Cambridge Book of Food published in 2000.
So in short, despite pasta and rice, Ireland definitely still consumes a lot of potatoes compared to anywhere in the world, and most definitely compared to the US. In the US the biggest changes have been in the classification of potato consumed rather than the amount. The potato crisp is 150 years old, but in the last 50 years that snack market has been eaten into (sorry) by corn based snacks.
All right. That doesn’t look good for the Paddies.
Do you have any figures for the amount of potatoes soaked in fat?
1.9 - Canned - I didn’t know they canned spuds. Interesting, but why would they bother?
They can everything. And it’s not simply a product of modern mass production - everybody ’s grandmother does it. I think it’s a pioneering survival thing, like pickling.
There are different verbs for it in different parts of the country. In parts of the South it is “to put up”.
It means you can have new potatoes for Christmas. Old new potatoes. Very small old new potatoes. Tasting of brine.
Canned potatoes: think stew. And hash. That would be the form of canned potatoes I’ve seen and I would think the most common.
Ireland is not currently among the top 10 countries in per capita potato consumption, nor is the US, but the UK is.
Nicolas, did you read the comments with the statistics and quoted sources and links for them? Do you dispute them, and if so can you give us alternative figures and sources rather just claim something?
Not nice to say you would hurt someones pet when he or she said something that angered you.
The pet did not tell you things that made you angry, so why hurt an innocent animal?
Or would you also say you kick the children of the people who angried you?
I always had the impression that irish people would solve their problems with the people who caused it and not hurt people the sneaky way with hurting weaker family members.
But maybe my gran taught me wrong things about my heritage?
Words are not enough reason to hurt the innocents.
May Pooka bite you in the ass for that.
And yes, I know it is written differently but I like the combination of letters better.
Oh..by the way…brokkolie soup!
I am late to this discussion, having come across it while I was looking up what “rashers” are.
My sister traveled through Ireland a few years ago. I don’t recall her ever mentioning, “green”, “potato-eating”, or “red haired,” but she did say a person had better like fish because it was on the menu of every restaurant she visited, and there was even fish soup.