Y'all who know me ain't gonna be surprised if I say that I celebrated the day with cooking, because what holiday don't I make the food the star? If you're expecting to find corned beef and cabbage though (as was everybody at the farmer's market who commented on me buying cabbage), you'll be searching for some time to find it. It ain't that I don't love the stuff, but this day to me has nothing to do with a dish that was originally designed to hide many of the less than pleasant flavours of beef gone a bit past it's prime. Instead, today I spent most of the day cooking large amounts of good meat to put up in the freezer for quick meals when it's been one of those days. A chicken was done up nice and roasted in the french oven, and most of it turned into a nice cottage pie that we had for supper. A small wild boar roast was in the crock pot with potatoes and carrots and onions and a bottle of Irish Red, and now it's packaged away neatly. Cookie dough is frozen in little scoops, chicken bones are roasted and ready for stock tommorow. From this morning through Sunday evening I'm gonna be baking and making soups... and this is my celebration?
They came here looking for a better life, a chance for their children and their name to survive. They were hungry. Today as I make plans for our farm, bake our bread, fill our bellies it is thank you with each bite. I don't know of a better way to honour their memories than to keep working to make sure we ain't hungry.
Go raibh maith agat.
Thank you.
Happy St. Patrick's Day y'all!
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