Recipes for a Perfect Wedding

I promised more about “Recipes for a Perfect Marriage,” by Morag Prunty…It’s the compelling story of two women, Irish-American Tressa, and her Irish grandma, Bernadine, struggling with their marriages. As much as I liked the book, I had a few issues with the two heroines. Both Tressa and Bernadine had a bit of what I’ll call the Scarlett O’Hara syndrome: not appreciating what’s right in front of you until it’s too late. In Scarlett’s case, that would of course be Rhett Butler. Similarly, Tressa and Bernadine were inclined to screw up their love relationships to the point you wanted to shake them.

Happily, Ms. Prunty created some terrific Irish-American secondary characters for a bit of comic relief. One was Gerry, a handyman with “waist-length gray hair and four teeth.” He reminded me a lot of a guy I met at my stepdaughter’s recent wedding in California: Will Quinn, from County Kildare. Will was the grizzled “frontman” of the Irish trio playing the reception. His most notable characteristics were, like Gerry’s, shaggy gray hair and crumbly teeth. Oh, and a sense of humor.

You’ll know, of course, the reputation of the Irish as rebels, right? Will asked us if we’d heard the one about two Irishmen marooned on an island.” We shook our heads. “Well,” said Will, “the first one asks, ‘Is there a government here?’ The second one says, ‘If there is, I’m against it.’”

In addition to joke telling, Will played the pennywhistle and accordion, and also did all the talking (the other two guys didn’t say a word all afternoon). Clearly, Will had more going for him than his ratty looks would suggest, because he brought three “groupies” with him: his gorgeous Mexican wife, Trini, and two heart-stoppingly beautiful young teenage daughters, Aoif and Bridgit. Competitive step-dancers, Aoif and Bridgit were decked out in full Irish dance regalia, dresses decorated in Celtic knots, sporting ghillies (shoes), not to mention uber-curly wigs—as the desired step-dance look involves hair that doesn’t occur in nature. They not only danced on stage, but provided backup for their dad on “Finnigan’s Wake.”

I’ll never forget the two fresh-faced young girls singing the chorus, “…A bottle of whiskey at his feet, and a bottle of port at his head.” If traditional Irish cheese makes the most memorable sandwiches, traditional Irish music, especially with the likes of Will Quinn and his family, creates an unforgettable wedding.

Ode to Elizabeth Gilbert

I couldn’t write another post without paying homage to author Elizabeth Gilbert, whose fabulous memoir “Eat, Pray, Love: One Woman’s Search for Everything Across Italy, India, and Indonesia” inspired this blog. At least it inspired my blog title, “Eat, Pray, Angst” et cetera. But regarding all the confessing in my first post, I have another confession to make: I’m not a very angsty person. Even on a bad day, I'm more of a glass-half-full kind of girl. However, I once saw the famed Irish writer Edna O’Brien at a book event, and she made reference to the “vast, ancestral loneliness” of the Irish. Well, I figure there's lots of potential angst to tap into.

How about “Pray?” Well, Ms. Gilbert is far more open about her spirituality than I am. But, since this blog will also include occasional riffs on another passion of mine, growing your own food and eating local, praying might sneak into it. Like earlier this week, when the potato foliage in our garden started to turn yellow-black—a fungus, I think. I couldn’t help thinking of the Irish farmers during the potato blight some 160-odd years ago, and with fungicides not yet available, how many prayers must've been sent to the Almighty. In lieu of spraying my own potatoes, since we’re trying to grow organic, I sent oodles of positive vibes in their direction. We’ll see how well it works.

And finally, “Eat.” Sorry, no rapturous descriptions of Italian food a la Ms. Gilbert—we’re here to focus on Irish stuff—but as a devoted foodie, I'll probably chat a lot about eating. To that end, a great place to start eating Irish in America is with Ireland-made Dubliner cheese. Despite my goal of eating more local food, I can’t help myself: Dubliner makes sandwiches to die for. And you don't have to go to Ireland to get it either--only as far as your nearest Costco.

I found another great “eating Irish” resource in an unexpected place—a novel I just finished: “Recipes for a Perfect Marriage,” by Irish author Morag Prunty. While I’ll talk more about “Recipes” next time, I will say my favorite part was the author weaving authentic Irish recipes into the plot. However, "Recipes" is a novel, not a proper cookbook. The recipes are more, shall we say, approximate. Like the way you cook a dish you've made a dozen or even a hundred times--by feel and memory. I might give the Irish soda bread recipe a try, though—and we’ll see how it goes. Kind of like my potato patch.