Thought for Food

Don’t mind if I do.

The irony is I’m meeting my Tulane girls — and this is our first hurricane together. I missed one that blew through Nola in Sept. 2002 because I was doing JYA in Dublin. Everyone evacuated to a friend’s place a few hours north (a former cotton plantation) and got drunk at the local redneck bar and had a blast. I was so jealous. The hurricane hit on my 21st birthday & I felt like it was kinda meant for me. Instead I was trying to convince Irish bartenders that a 21st bday means anything (and they should give me free shots). “Well you’ve been drinking for years, right? So what’s the big deal?” True, but….

Currently reading: Tana French’s Faithful Place. I’ve read her other two books and enjoyed them; I think this is the best of the lot. 

It’s everything you want in a murder mystery: a strong sense of place, well-developed characters, and a lone wolf detective with a soft side. But what I think I enjoy best is her ear for Dublin accents and her keen sense of the city’s class structure. In these, she rivals my man Jimmy Joyce.

PS: Last summer’s NYT review.

soupsoup:

Barack O’Bama says Sláinte before drinking his pint of Guinness on his trip to Ireland. Photo via @rtenews

Never once did I hear anyone say that word in the years I lived there. 

Tourist.

A very British Easter brunch at Jones Wood Foundry: crumpets, kidgeree, and a traditional fry-up. None of which I ordered, mind you, but my old-school shrimp cocktail with “lemon pink sauce” and smoked salmon on toast were not nearly as interesting.

The important thing was that M. gave me ample bites of his black sausage, rashers, and beans. Swore I’d never give in to beans for breakfast but Dublin beat me down.

Photograph taken in Ballinrobe, Co. Mayo, Ireland by photomelissa

A memory: six years ago this month my then-boyfriend and I were driving through the Irish countryside on the way to a grand estate where he was doing a gig. 

“Little lambs!” I squealed, “oh the sweet little lambs.”

“Can I have one, oh pleeeeeeeeease?”

“I would be such a good lamb-mama, I’ll feed them ivy and clover and—”

Variations on a theme, all the way there. 

That night we sat down for dinner at the grand estate’s grand restaurant. 

“What are you having, Nora?”

“Oh, I think … the lamb.”

“But what about the sweet little lambs?,” he laughed, “Isn’t that rather contradictory?”

Ah, but if they weren’t so delicious, they’d never be born. 

Thin Lizzy, “Whiskey In The Jar” // via countryhell

Happy St. Patrick’s Day, friends!

I fucking love Thin Lizzy.

(via countryhell-deactivated20110428)

The Streets, “Without Thinking,” from Computers and Blues

In 2003, right about the time his first album came out and I was living in Dublin, my then-boyfriend and I were convinced The Streets was one big joke on us all.

I’ll just talk over so-so beats and those suckers will think it’s rap music!

Judging from his new tracks — this has got to be one of the longest-running jokes on record.

(Not dissing — I mean, I am, but not in mean way. I had a damn lot of fun getting stoned and driving my pickup around New Orleans rapping talking along to “The Irony of It All.” Thanks for the laughs.)

(song via via texturism:fred-wilson:soupsoup)

The Pogues, “Fairytale of New York” // via thebluehour

Oh! Now this does make me miss Dublin. It comes on ‘round Christmas time and every mouth in the pub, old and young, rises in unselfconscious song. (Don’t you love when people act exactly as you hope they will?)

You’re handsome!

You’re pretty, Queen of New York City!

PS: I saw Shane MacGowan perform (I use the term very generously) with the Babyshambles and Kate Moss at the 2005 Trinity Ball. Every last one of us was off our tits but of course Shane most of all. (Again, don’t you love when people act exactly as you hope they will?)

(Source: palahniukandchocolate)