Yesterday, when I wrote about the Ballymaloe Lit Fest, I mentioned that I was lucky. It goes even further than that. In my small home town, curved along a small slice of the Atlantic and in the shelter of the Comeragh mountains, we have all kinds of wonderful too, and ample reasons to return. Continue reading
[Photo: Maggie Beer, Yotam Ottolenghi, Darina Allen and Sami Tamimi – they were having so much fun I couldn’t get a photo of them that wasn’t slightly blurred!]
I have many food related excuses to go home to Ireland, and I am clucky, for some people travel from Australia, the US, and many other places to go to one of my favourites, the Kerrygold Ballymaloe Lit Fest, a smart and fun gathering of some of the worlds best food writers and chefs, who convene in a corner of East Cork to share their knowledge and to discuss pertinent matters in the world of food. The weekend is full of chat, talks and debate, there are cooking demos, and ultimately everyone ends up in the fringe festival in The Big Shed for some wine and a bit of a boogie later on. Continue reading
It is St Patrick’s Day tomorrow, and I am declaring this Irish week on the blog. A national holiday in Ireland and a day of celebration of Irish culture worldwide, if you would like to hit a city where you can have a superb day and where they don’t dye the rivers or beer green, well, go to Dublin. I never did understand why people would want to drink something green (and that kind of applies to green juice too, although I have succumbed on occasion).

A Stephen’s Day Walk
After the insanity of Christmas Day and cooking for so many people, the day after, St Stephen’s Day in Ireland, is an oasis of calm, with a morning dedicated to sleep.
I grew up on the Atlantic on the south coast of Ireland with lovely beaches of all types, mountains, waterfalls within, woods nearby and a magic road. Other stuff too but you get my meaning, there is quite a bit going on here.
Yesterday, we took a walk out on the old train track to the beach and beyond. Fresh cold air stinging the cheeks as the sun was setting, the moon rising slowly and then switching its light on. We walked back in the pitch darkness guided by moonlight.
Which was lovely. I felt human again.
Photos from my phone but worth sharing, I think.

Pausing for a breath

Greetings from the beach

A washed up lobster pot

Walking the dog on the beach

I found some three cornered leek (often mistakenly called wild garlic and just as delicious)
There are so many stories that I could tell you about Dingle. I could tell about the first dinner that I cooked for over 22 people at the tender age of 22. 22 mainly random people, randomly decided, in a youth hostel in Dingle. My friend Emma and I made Mexican food using what we could get. We didn’t do too bad a job. More importantly, we had a great time. It was a significant moment and one that was instrumental in getting me here.
I could tell you about the time that same summer when we went to beautiful Slea Head nearby, and a local fisherman whose boat had just come back in, offered me a huge crab and a pike. I quickly readied myself and we carried the enormous fish & crab in a blue plastic bag and tried unsuccessfully to hitch a lift the 10 miles or so back.
One family from Northern Ireland stopped their car to enquire as to what was in the bag, and wished us luck. When they passed us on their way back later, they rolled down the window and roared “WHERE IS THE FASH?!” and delivered us back to our abode.
I could also tell you about the time, when diagnosed with anaemia and told to drink Guinness by my local GP, I ordered a Guinness shandy made with Guinness and Irish red lemonade in a Dingle pub and they almost threw me out. “It is bad enough that you ordered that in English and not Irish, I should throw you out for ordering it at all”. But I pleaded and they made me one. I remember thinking it was alright.
So many stories, let me start with something more recent, Dingle Food Festival last weekend.
I have an enormous affection for Dingle, a gorgeous seaside town on the west coast of Ireland, famously with over 52 pubs, one for each week of the year. So much so, when asked to write piece for National Geographic’s Food Journey’s of a Lifetime, I wrote a piece on Dingle pubs some years ago.
To their food festival then, now in its sixth year. A food trail meanders the narrow streets of Dingle and harbour offering tastes starting at €2 a pop. Free cooking demos all day Saturday and Sunday (Scandilicious and I did one) and very reasonable workshops too (I did a bacon workshop to initiate the west coast masses to the joy of bacon fudge and jam).
Lots of live traditional Irish music in pubs throughout the day that you can enjoy between tastes, and lively locals, give Dingle Food Festival the edge.
We stayed in a very sociable and spacious rented house over looking the town, harbour and hills. Two dining areas and a big island kitchen meant that we could cook dinner as well as eat out – my ideal balance, I love having people around. Crab and bacon carbonara was one feature at home, using local crab and McCarthy’s smoked streaky bacon, sliced very finely to provide a bass supporting note. I will publish the recipe soon, once I have tested it thoroughly with less wine in my system ;)
Our best meal was a great seafood dinner at Global Village, a name that somewhat disguises the great cooking inside. I was told it doesn’t matter, they are always busy. So, fair enough.
Pubs, we visited many, and lots of my old favourites too. A cosy afternoon hour in the snug in Curran’s, a swift pint at the bar at Foxy John’s, some traditional Irish music at tea time in The Courthouse and we finished the night with some more music at Flaherty’s. Who had been horrified at my Guinness shandy request many years later.
I will be back. I heart Dingle.
Hello! I’m Niamh (Knee-uv! It’s Irish).
You are very welcome here. Eat Like a Girl has been my place to scribble online since 2007. That’s 14 years of recipes and over 1000 posts to explore.
Eat Like a Girl? It’s simple, we love to eat too. Anything else you’ve heard about women and only eating salad? It’s noise and misogyny.
But, we really love an excellent salad too. Shouldn’t everyone?!
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