Readapting to the Food
I had a crip sandwich last night.
That’s not a typo, it’s affection.
2 slices of buttered bread with a packet of cheese and onion crisps between them. With the plastic bag removed.
Yes I know it’s very bad for my complexion but so are most things that are this decadent.
I remember one American woman in KC telling me she wouldn’t allow her husband indulge in the crisp sandwich snack despite his regular cravings for that food memory from the Ireland of his youth. White trash food she called it. I quietly left and made myself a banana sandwich, which similarly tended to revolt the local KC population - as did the classic staple of the student and/or the bedsit, Beans on Toast.
For what it’s worth, as much as I tried over the years I could never accept Peanut Butter and Jelly sandwiches as making any sense - and I’ve done some strange things with food in my time.
But anyway what else have I consumed since the return? Dinner last night was boiled potatoes, cabbage, and carrots and a guest vegetable mashed in together. Oh and steak. I think. Like the vegetables it was probably boiled too. My last meal out in KC was at the Golden Ox and I doubt that all the large people eating there would recognise what we in Ireland regularly call steak.
On Saturday, the day after the wedding we had what we all call a barbecue. In KC terms this is a grill out. Grilling over here is what is called broiling back in KC. And the term barbecue round these here parts of Europe tends to refer to the occasion and to the device used to do the cooking. I’ll keep an eye out for the cuisine that KC and other US regions know as BBQ.
Anyway the best thing about the barbecue - apart from the company of course - was the fish cakes. Anybody who’s ever enjoyed watching a fight outside a chipper loves fishcakes. These fishcakes however were even better than you think they were. They had pieces of fish in them. An outrageous concept.
Never having consumed homemade fishcakes before I’ve only ever had the kind that are all potatoes with just a hint of fish (a good swimmer that rhymes with dish).
On Sunday afternoon in London I had an all-day breakfast. Because I hadn’t eaten all day. It was big, greasy and perfect. Two jumbo sausages, 2 fried eggs, 2 large rashers, 2 tomatoes, and generous helpings of baked beans and of super chunky chips.
Such is the desire for the combination of a warm film of grease on the lips meeting a hot cup of tea, that I’ve had things termed “all-day breakfasts” in the Irish pubs of KC but with the cost of getting authentic Irish sausages all the way from Chicago, they never really pulled off the “all-day” part of the description.
In the three households I’ve eaten in so far I have had meals where enough is cooked for everybody. And no more. There’s a concept I’d forgotten about.
See Also:
• Does Ireland Really Eat That Many Potatoes?
• About Tea
• Do You Eat Turkey at Christmas in Ireland?
Eolaí gan Fhéile:
“Two jumbo sausages, 2 fried eggs, 2 large rashers, 2 tomatoes, and generous helpings of baked beans and of super chunky chips.”
Hah!!
Welcome home, Eolai
…but with the cost of getting authentic Irish sausages all the way from Chicago…
yum. Thanks to Winston’s and the Abbey Pub, we were well-fed all summer long. Chicago Celtic Fest(ival) was a blast (= fun, not blowy-uppy). Máirtín was in great form, the weather was perfect agus muid cois locha, and the company grand.
Slán
What the Hell are onion crisps?
It’s not “Onion Crisps” it’s “Cheese & Onion Crisps”. Crisps are what you call chips.
So in your lingo it’s potato chips which are “cheese and onion” flavoured. Or flavored, I suppose.
… flavoured. Or flavored, I suppose.
Yep, you’re home now me lad. No more neighbors, just neighbours. No more colors, just colours. And you get to wear pyjamas, as if anyone would.
The woman harping on the “white trash food” sounds impossibly snobbish and pretentious.
It’s called “comfort food.”
One of my favorite foods as a kid was sliced bananas on buttered toast. Yum. Haven’t had a good banana at all here in Canada.
Another big comfort food when I was a kid was my mom’s version of “red bunny”: tomato soup heated with milk and melted cheese on buttered toast.
So all you’re getting to eat is enough? Jesus, you’ll fall away to nothing.
It’s all clear to me now Eolai. You’ve enlightened me
to the term “crisps” before..but I didn’t know you’d
have cheese and onion flavoured there…what’ll it be
next, “Barbecue” Crisps?
The comments on “red bunny” put me to mind of one of my favorite concoctions - tomato soup with white cheddar crackers.
And I am also one of those whom spent a childhood eating soft mashed bananas between slices of butter-smeared bread (never did toast them, though). How some people can do this with peanut butter remains beyond my sense of good taste.