R and the Girls, Circa 2010

Here we go….Mr. McDonnell: UNCOVERED. Well, not really uncovered…I wouldn’t go that far-at least not for the purposes of this blog anyway. Between cows calving and garden ploughing, I was able to corner R to sit down and answer a few questions that had been submitted by readers and a couple thrown in from me. {can you tell whose are whose?}

How on earth did you meet Mrs. McDonnell?

I met Imen when visiting my friend Aiden who is living in the States.  We got together a couple times for dinner and I was very intrigued. Let’s just say that there was a universal pull towards Imen and a very big WOW factor to say the least. She told me that her Dad was going to be her Valentine that year and so when I was leaving to go back to Ireland on the 12^th of February, I arranged to have a large basket of flowers sent to her office for Valentine’s Day. The card with the flowers said, “Well, you’re my Valentine.”   I think that won her over a little bit.

What have been the challenges of marrying someone from another country/culture?

It has been a bit difficult for the Imen to settle in at times here and I can totally understand because her life is completely different from before and also because she lost her father in 2008 which was very hard on her. We are constantly working to strike the balance in bringing elements of both of our cultures into how we live our day-to-day lives here.  Her distinctiveness is also what I love about her. But honestly, the hardest thing would have to be accepting that fact that the word “awesome” is now frequently heard on the farm.

Tell us about the farm, what do you love about farming?

The farm is a family farm in which myself, brother and parents run the business. We specialize in dairy, free-range poultry and renewable energies. I have a great love for animals and the land. I‘m my own boss, which is brilliant. For me, there is a tremendous sense of pride that goes with farming and producing quality foods for the Irish marketplace.

What do you do for fun when you’re not working on the farm?

I work really long hours on the farm so when I have some time off I try to make the most of it. We have taken some brilliant holidays and there are many more to come… We all love the cinema so we try to go for a Sunday matinee and lunch on weekends. I play soccer on Tuesday evenings with a group of friends in the area and enjoy going sailing with my father when the weather conditions are good.  I am a big fan of gardening and we’ve just begun planting an organic kitchen garden which will be a family endeavour.

What is the best thing(s) about Ireland?

Guinness. Hurling. The relaxed pace of life. Irish pride. To put it simply, Ireland is my home.

What do you think of this blog?

I was pleasantly surprised when I first read the blog…. My wife has amazing talent for writing, a talent I’d love to have! It’s a funny yet fact-based blog that will inform you and keep a smile on your face. I am proud of her and really love it.

How is Ireland different from America?

The big thing that comes to mind is attitude. Bono once proclaimed that the main difference between Ireland and America is this: There is a huge, beautiful mansion on a hilltop. The American says “Someday I’m going to be that guy in that house.” The Irishman says, “Someday I’m gonna get that guy in that house”  Also, the weather is far nicer where Imen is from and the people seem to be more positive and are so open and friendly–especially when they realize you are Irish!

What is the biggest challenge facing farmers today?

Surviving poor costs for our products. For example, milk prices are the same now as they were in the 80’s, yet costs to produce have soared. Also, the more extreme weather conditions of late makes farming a constant challenge to be reckoned with.

What would you be doing if you weren’t farming?

That’s a hard question. I have a wide range of interests. I studied philosophy and history at University and am very interested in theories and universal laws. I’d love to write a screenplay. I’d like to learn more about economics and global business and get my MBA. When I was a boy, I wanted to become a zookeeper!

If Imen could persuade you to move to the USA what would you be doing?

Well, first she would have to promise to get VISA’s for all of my girls (cows) to go along.  But seriously, if that were ever the case (very doubtful), maybe I could farm or teach Irish history or open a real traditional Irish pub which would be Irish through and through from the turf in the fire to the Guinness in the glass…with poetry and politics and a regular named Paudy always sitting at the bar.

If you have any questions about R or the farm we would love to hear from you….

I am off for a long weekend in NYC….and next week is St. Patrick’s Day so fun times ahead. Have a great week!

Slan Abhaile,

Imen

Tags: Amerian, farm, Guinness, hurling, ireland, Irish Pub, married, MBA, poetry, politics, turf fire, University, USA

I know. This is a delicate topic. And totally unfunny. But, I really want to share about it for two reasons: 1. my experience with Irish funerals is far different than my experience with American funerals and 2. If you are ever wondering if your Irish farmer boyfriend is telling the truth when he says he is going to a funeral up to 2-3 times/month it could definitely be true.

Here in the Irish countryside many things are still done the old-fashioned way and this would definitely apply to funerals. Imagine my surprise when the first visitation I attended was right in the home of the dearly departed with her laying in her own candlelit bedroom with people paying their respects at the bedside. I have to be honest and say that I was absolutely terrified.  I had never in my life been required to be intimately close with a deceased person. But, I had to shrug off my fears and go in because it was R’s amazing grandmother who was also a very special person to me. She had lived to see so many changes in Ireland and left us at the ripe old age of 92.  I loved listening to her stories of gun hiding and squabbles between political parties. She also had great style and an unexpected sense of humour. She always asked me the same question when I walked into her home, “would you like a drop of Baileys?” and we’d have “drops” of Bailey’s in teeny, tiny, sweet little cordial glasses while I listened to her anecdotes and gossip and felt so wonderfully content in her presence. I remember once she was telling me about a trip she had taken to an island called Lough Derg and was describing how beautiful it was and that you had to go barefoot and walk on these rocks and then you’d stay up for 3 days and only drink broth with salt and pepper. I totally thought she was talking about some sort of natural spa experience where you’d go for really intensive 3 day cleansing detox.  It is actually a religious retreat. She thought I was mad…..but  I know she also loved that about me.  She had discussed her precise wishes regarding her funeral arrangements with her family and had it all sorted out before she left us . We followed through as directed.

Generally speaking, up until 15 years ago, a country Irish wake would always take place in the home. It was very much a social event and open to the public.  The corpse would be dressed in a dark, neutral coloured habit or shroud and “layed out” on their bed or in a small coffin.  No embalmment techniques or fancy makeup. A prayer book might be propped under the chin to keep one’s mouth closed. Mourners would fill the room and sit beside the dead and would be there to support the others who came to sympathise.  Often, a punch made of cloves, sugar, whiskey and boiled water would be served and a barrel of stout would be on hand. Men smoked white clay pipes and sniffed snuff. This celebration would go on for 1-3 days as they never wanted the dead person to feel alone which, to my mind, is a lovely gesture. Three days of crying, laughing, eulogizing, agonizing.  Sounds pretty cathartic to me…and not such a scary idea after all. After the wake, there was the funeral mass and burial. The coffin is carried on shoulders and walked around the circumference of the graveyard before stopping at the gravesite. One month later, the “month’s mind” takes place in the local church to remember the person. Each year after there is an anniversary mass as well.

The introduction of funeral homes have taken the responsibility off of the immediate family to entertain mourners in their homes and wakes are now called “removals”. These funeral homes are very different from the what I would be accustomed to in the States….no plush carpets and rugs, ambient music, heavy drapes, displays of flowers here. In fact, very much a low-key event. The rural village funeral home is designed a bit like a garage where the a big door is opened to the street, the coffin is in the middle of the room, the family in chairs in a semi circle around the coffin. The family receives all the sympathisers who, in a single file cue, come through and shake hands with them all and walk out.  Out here it still is similar in the way that people gather from far and wide…whether you were a first cousin or a friend of a friend of a friend, you will be at the removal. It is important to be a part of the community and show your respect. This is why R goes so frequently. In America funerals are much more discreet. You might not think so right off the bat, but really, compared to Ireland they are more private and formal affairs if you will. Very rarely would you go to a funeral of someone you’d never personally met at least once.  It’s just in my American nature to feel like an interloper going to a removal of someone I didn’t know. Not to mention I don’t have enough dressy clothes anymore to keep up with them all.

I was hoping to feature Mr. McDonnell and the farm for this post, but he’s sooooooo slow and stilllllll writing his answers to all of our quirky questions. By the way, if you have a fun, funny, embarrassing…even dorky  question, please drop me a line: imen.producer@ireland.com.

Slan Abhaile,

Imen

Tags: American, farmer, Funeral, ireland, Irish, Louhg Derg, Wake

The first time someone asked me this question I was foolishly offended.  It was broached while I was at my first Irish fashion show which was being held at the Dunraven Arms Hotel in Adare.  Modest fashion shows are de riguer here for fundraising. You will hear about 30 fashion shows a week in Ireland and when your first beautifully designed invitation arrives in the letterbox you feel so privileged that you’ve been included in the guest list of such a stylish, upscale event. But, then you turn up to find decorative tchochkes scattered about on tables and your friend’s teenage girls modelling clothes from the “The Fancy Faery” boutique/deli down the road.  A little different than expected. Still, fair play to them because these type of fashion shows raise loads of money for charity and are definitely a form of entertainment of one shape or another….especially for those who live in small villages or rural areas.

But back to the question of horsiness. While I was mingling with the crowd of fancy ladies…and by ladies I do mean Ladies. Lady Dunraven, for instance, could be found perusing the crowds in her sophisticated manner at such affairs. I started chatting with a particular group whom wondered if I was horsey. One lady rather emphatically asked me “Are you horsey?” (pronounced HAWR-SEE) I honestly hadn’t a clue what she meant by that and I just stood there looking at her questioning face with an equally questioning face. It almost seemed like a secret question in which I needed to know the password…a password for access to some type of secret society.  Then, after a 30 second stare-off, my friend finally nudged me and said, “you know, do you ride?” I honestly thought the woman was asking or implying that I was fat.  After all, I had a 8 month baby at home. Whew, not fat! {well, yes fat, but that’s not the point here}. But, alas, not horsey either. So when I said “oh no, no, no, not me”, I suddenly found myself alone in the middle of the room. It was definitely a horsey fashion show. And I was definitely not horsey. It’s worth mentioning that riding is of a different ilk in the States where Western riding seems to be more of the norm. Cowboy boots and denims prevail versus the tailored look of jodphurs, riding jackets and velvet helmets here.

So being “horsey” is admired in Ireland. I didn’t know this before I moved over. If I had, perhaps I would have spent more time riding with my friend A.T. before leaving.  Point to Points, The National Hunt, The Irish National Stud…if you’ve anything to do with horses I’d say you definitely get a gold star approval rating in this country. The most famous horsey events are the big races, and the fierce fashion competition that goes with them, called “Ladies Days”.  For example, the world renowned Galway Races have discerning judges that not only judge the racing, but also how stylish the ladies in attendance are….and the winner gets a prize too. The society pages of Irish magazines are chock full of photos featuring all the fancy “ladies” dressed to the nines from top to toe in gorgeous designer headpieces to Louboutin heels as they walk around and graciously pose for photographers on the grassy racecourse grounds.

R gave me Clonshire riding lessons for Christmas so when it warms up a bit I will keep you posted on any upcoming riding adventures….and any hints of horsiness that might ensue.

Slan Abhaile,

Imen

Photo courtesy of Stella McCartney

Tags: Adare, Christian Louboutin, Clonshire, Dublin Fashion Week, Dunraven Arms, farmer, Galway Races, Horse, ireland, Ladies Days, National Hunt, National Stud, Point to Point, Racing, riding, Stella McCartney

Because I live in the country and am completely, overly, remarkably excited, it would only be right and proper to mention that this blog has just been nominated for an Irish Blog Award. Actually, not in just one, but three categories. Many, many thanks to one and all whom took the time and effort to nominate me! I am flattered beyond belief to be recognized in this manner. I started this blog in Autumn without any expectations and now it seems writing each is something I simply can’t do without. I am thrilled that you are enjoying all of the quirky observations and wonderful discoveries of my newfound Irish country life as much as me.

Slan Abhaile,

Imen

Today is “Pancake Tuesday” in Ireland.  And while I love pancakes, I would be remiss if I didn’t tell you that this day always conjures up hilarious thoughts and images of pancake feeds and chicken booyah in church basements across small town America. This is just the way my mind works. I must always have one identifying American trait matched up to one Irish trait. Forgive me.

Pancake Tuesday or Shrove Tuesday is a not a national bank holiday, but it is widely recognized throughout the State. And it has an extremely large following in farmhouses across the country.  Ok, maybe just our farmhouse.  But seriously, everyone seems to jump on the bandwagon. The tradition is that pancakes and doughnuts were associated with the day preceding Lent because they were a way to use up rich foodstuffs such as eggs, milk, and sugar, before the fasting season of the 40 days of Lent. The liturgical fasting emphasized eating plainer food and refraining from food that would give pleasure. In many cultures, this means no meat, dairy, or eggs. So, as you know, anything to do with Christianity here must be absolutely obeyed. (or you could very possibly go here) And even though I’m not really a religious person, give me an excuse to eat pancakes or doughnuts all day and I promise I will take you up on it, no questions asked.

Irish pancakes are a little different than the gigantic fluffy buttermilk variety in the USA. You can actually eat more than one because they are dainty. More like crepes which can be filled with loads of yummy surprises: lightly sweetened with a drizzle of lemon and a pinch of sugar; richly slathered with chocolate or toffee sauce and fresh cream; spread with raspberry or strawberry preserves and sprinkled with icing sugar; generously lined with smooth Nutella butter, savoury and filled with soft cheese and boiled ham; potato-y with a bit of sour cream and stewed apple….the list goes on and on and they are all oh..so… divine.

Here is a gorgeous recipe for Irish Pancakes from Donal Skehan’s The Good Mood Food blog:

Makes 12-14 pancakes

110g of plain flour.
A pinch of salt.
2 large eggs.
200ml of milk.
75ml of water.
2 tablespoons of melted butter.

Sieve the flour into a large mixing bowl and with a spoon make a well in the center.  Break the eggs into the well and using a whisk slowly incorporate them with the flour.  Don’t worry too much about lumps as they should disappear when you add the rest of the liquid.  Gradually add the milk and water until you have a light batter.  Heat a little butter in your frying pan over a hot heat, and add 2 tablespoons of melted butter to the batter, stir through to combine.  Add a ladle full of the batter to the hot pan and move from side to side until it evenly covers the surface of the pan.  Reduce the heat and cook for about a minute each side or until the batter begins to take a nice golden colour.  Feel free to try your hand at flipping half way through!

Serve straight away with your filling of choice, or try the classic filling of lemon juice and sugar.  You can cook all the batter off and save the pancakes for later.  Simply layer the crepes on top each other, cover with some cling film and store in the fridge.  They should heat up well in a microwave.

Make some for dinner tonite!

Happy Pancake Tuesday,

Slan Abhaile,

Imen

photo courtesy of Donal Skehan of The Good Mood Food blog

Tags: Chicken Booyah, cream, Irish farm, Nutella chocolate, Paddy cake, pancake feed, Pancake Tuesday, Pancakes, Shrove, toffee

Sorry, but I need to write about this. I think about it all the time. I could be swinging away on a beautiful Spring day and still pondering. Not sure why, but I must confess, I’ve become utterly fascinated with the cacophony of incidental language twists here in Ireland.

Oh yes, wait a minute.  I am sure why….

Too much time on my hands. Pure and simple.  (See #5 on the “On Marrying An Irish Farmer” tab)

Anyway, it’s just that people tend to use the words LIKE, SO and NOW an awwwwful lot here.  And not really in the way you’d think they would. When I first starting hearing these words all the time it was a bit perplexing. This is because when Americans use the words LIKE, SO and NOW we tend do it in ways which all seem far different than the manner in which many Irish speakers are using them.

You see, the word LIKE is used significantly more as an afterthought here. For instance, you might hear someone say, “That cow is really sick LIKE.” or  “He went to the shop LIKE”.  Whereas, in the USA, we might say something more along the lines of this: “LIKE, oh my God, that’s awesome” or “I LIKE your new Hummer” or maybe this: “That Bergdorf blonde has very straw-LIKE hair”.  But rarely, if ever, would we say “I know LIKE”.  And consider it a complete sentence. And say it  just to say it. No, we tend to use our LIKES in the beginning of a sentence. And, if you must know–our EXPLETIVES at the end of sentences &%$#*&^!!!

Then, in equal measure, the word SO gets loads of action here too. You’ll hear: “He’s going to the match, LIKE, SO”. In this case, the addition of the word SO can be a question without the added upward inflection…rhetorical I suppose. If you buy something at the store you will always experience the SO word at least a few times during your transaction. “It will be 2.80 then SO.” You give the money and they say “thank you SO” and then when you receive your change “ok SO then”. Not usually a thank you or a you’re welcome, but I’m pretty sure it means the same thing. There is also the very important “RIGHT SO” which, in our house, basically means we’re finished here and usually occurs after a long pregnant pause in conversation………………………………………………………………………….RIGHT SO. {moving on}

I have to admit that the NOW’s really shook me though. Twas my first time going to the little market in Adare when the shopkeeper, a lovely elderly woman, said “NOW” (sharply and succinctly pronounced NE-OW as heard here) as I set my eggs and apples on the counter. It was totally out of context for me. And something about the timbre or the emphatic tone that she used made me feel like I was being scolded (scolded is the only word to describe it because it had that weird shame element to it). I immediately flashed back to 2^nd grade with Mrs. Luther who scolded us all the time for being too “talkative” in the classroom. Yes, this market lady’s NOW literally startled me and she knew it because she asked if I was okay. To which I replied with a nervous and slightly guilty laugh, “oh sorry, I’m fine, umm, did I do something?” She ignored my question and went on to say “NOW” again after scanning the apples. And “NOW” again when she put them in the bag. And then when she took my money she said “NOW SO”.  And, finally, when she bid me farewell, one last “NOW” as she waved goodbye.  Incredulous. I walked home in a complete state of total bewilderment.

Five years later I can honestly say that I’ve not succumbed to the Irish LIKE SO’s. But, as friends and family will attest, I do find myself using NOW (yes, in that tone) from time to time….and time again (it is oddly addictive)

RIGHT SO.

Slan Abhaile,

Imen

(photo courtesy of ffffound)

Tags: Adare, farmer, Irish, Irish language, Like, married, Now, slan abhaile, So, words

Born and raised on a farm in the countryside near Belfast, Trish DeSeine fell in love with France on a childhood visit.  Little did we know that she would later become a celebrated French cookery writer and television personality living in Paris. {Don’t you just love how life works sometimes?}

After 20+ years in Paris, Mme. DeSeine could be dubbed a real Parisian…but she’ll always have that warm Irish spirit and charm in her heart. I am honored to be able to share a little about about Trish and her Irish heritage with you this week.

Bon Appetit!

What was it like growing up on a farm in Ireland?

Of the three of us (I am in the middle of two brothers) I was probably the one who took most interest. I would spend many Saturday mornings with my father as he  did his weekly check on the cattle over at Belfast’s Cavehill. We helped out a bit when the hay was made, and that was great fun, but my father had an ace team of 5 burly brothers from Belfast who looked after everything. My mother was a teacher, so away during the week, but diligently cooked for any farmhands needing sustenance on Saturdays. This was nearly always mince, potatoes and carrots.  Or sometimes a pot roast or chicken and vegetable soup with barley.

Which Irish dishes do you miss…or have redesigned to be more ooh la la?

None really, you can get most ingrédients all over the world now, and happily Irish ones are pretty simple.  I do love cream and butter from home, though, and barmbrack and wheaten bread.  I certainly would not redesign Irish food. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. It’s true attraction is in its very simplicity, quality and purity. I cannot imagine destructing an Irish stew or beef in Guinness !

Are there Irish traditions or sensibilities that you get nostalgic about?

I ‘d like to be romantic and affectionate but, you see, I grew up in County Antrim, in a fiercely Unionist, Presbyterian family and community during the worst of the Troubles. Irish traditions, ie « Southern » were certainly not celebrated ! My family’s affinities leaned more towards Scotland and Great Britain. Therefore, both traditions and cultures got a bit diluted, somehow.  I studied  English in school, a Protestant Grammar school in Belfast, where only a few Irish authors and poets found their way onto the curriculum .  It’s only now that I can see how biased our upbringing was. It’s very sad, I think, that due to the violence , our entire childhood we were being prepared to « get out »  The result of this is not true nostalgia, but a type of retro-nostalgia, for an imaginary Irish childhood I would loved to have had.I always suspected people on the other side of the border were having a hell of a good time . I realise now this was absolutely true.

When I did my TV shows for RTE, this  fantasy came alive for me a little, I started to believe that the nearly unified Ireland was indeed now ALL mine, and that it embraced me right back. Now, with the situation so bad again, I’m not so sure. People  in the street or in pubs and shops are adorable when I’m in Dublin. But I was treated very shabbily by RTE Cork, despite my shows’ good ratings and that spoiled the homecoming expérience slightly.

I guess I miss the way folk would pop in unannounced, for a cup of tea and a piece of cake, and how we would call with friends in a very unceremonious way.  The Irish kitchens of my childhood always had a good stash of traybakes, scones or Victoria sandwich.

Do your children love their Irish heritage..what do they like about Ireland?

They know very little of it, having spent much more time in Scotland and London. They feel more what the French would call « Anglo Saxon »  or « from an English speaking culture » than Irish.  Hopefully we’ll have time in the future to go back and explore a little more.

Do you ever use Irish slang?

Rarely, I don’t get much of a chance in France ! But my nows and my downs with that NornOrn impossible vowel sound are still perfectly intact. My children have a slight NIrish accent in their English which is really lovely.

Any tips on acclimating to another culture?

Fall in love !

What are some of your favourite places in Ireland that you would recommend visiting?

The Hugh Lane in Dublin and the Bacon exhibit in particular. Ballyvolane House near Cork for a long lazy weekend and fantastic food .

Would you ever move back to Ireland?

No. Home is here in Paris with my children.

Luckily, even though she now calls Paris her home, we can still have her via her remarkable culinary treasures.

Trish has written a hugely popular series of illustrated cookbooks. Her most recent is “Comme Au Resto” which shows how to take the latest trends and le presentation from restaurant meals to give your own entertaining a bit of glamour without all the cheffy fuss. My favourite? “I Want Chocolate”, you will never think of chocolate in the same way again. You can find Trish’s books available worldwide on Amazon, Barnes & Noble & Easons or for more information visit her beautiful website Trish DeSeine.com

Slan Abhaile,

Imen

Tags: Ballyvolane House, Belfast, chocolate, Cork, Dublin, farmer, Hugh Lane, ireland, married, Northern Ireland, paris, RTE, Trish Deseine, Troubles

When R and I first met he insisted that I was the midwest’s equivalent to Carrie Bradshaw. While I found this idea flattering, if not humorous, I couldn’t help but be reminded of the episode in which she and Aidan go to his rustic cabin in the country and how she barely survived two days there. I thought to myself, oh yes, that would be me. Then I thought to myself, oh nooo!…I am falling in love with a farmer!  A real live F-A-R-M-E-R. Farmers live in the country surrounded by animals and well water.  I won’t even drink filtered tap water and I never leave the house in flat shoes. Ever.

Fast forward six years. I married him. We live in the Irish countryside and the closest thing to my former Sex and the City lifestyle is a walk-in wardrobe filled with the residual Mui-Muis and Manolos of days past. They seemingly have no use in these parts. Nope, nowadays life is more like an episode of “Sex and the Country”. Not saying it’s not fascinating…even entertaining, just “tis different”. Quite different indeed…

Life then: Sunday breakfast or a bagel and coffee at the perfect city café around the corner chatting away with friends followed by reading the beautiful New York Times newspaper and magazine.

Life now:  Sunday morning awake with fingers crossed that we have everything for me to make breaky in the fridge because the store is ages away and I can’t be bothered to drive it.  Followed by reading the news on nytimes.com followed by witnessing two cows getting it on in the pasture.

Yes, cows getting it on. Or “bonking” as an English friend calls it. With all the mating rituals I’m witnessing round’ here I think it is safe to say that there is definitely more sex in the country than sex in the city that I used to live in.  I have to admit, I just could not believe my eyes the first time I witnessed a cow mounting another cow. A bull just wanders around the pasture jumping on random heifers whenever the mood strikes him.  Very aggressive.  It just doesn’t look right. They’re too big for heaven’s sake! The act appears to be really clunky and awkward. Not sexy AT ALL. Plus, it looks like the girl cow is not happy. Plus, they are in the middle of a pasture and there’s no privacy…just not right. And it looks just as strange to me with all of the animals out here; sheep and horses too (yes, it is shockingly true what they say about horses.eeeewwwwww) Even our dogs seem to constantly be humping around with eachother and they are all males. Way too many country pheromones in the air for me to handle at times. Way too many indeed.

R is in charge of animal health and animal reproduction at the farm. He sees that the heifers hook up with the bulls and if that doesn’t work he works his A.I. magic.  A.I., or artificial insemination, is quite an interesting process to go through with cows.  Let’s just say that there is a 3-foot long glove which needs to be worn whilst doing the procedure.  And it’s not the cow wearing it. I’m sure now you’re wondering where the “inseminatory” fluid comes from to begin with, aren’t you? (yes, I made that word up because I don’t think you can say the S word on a blog or at least I’m not going to).  Well, I just happened to find out whilst watching a farming program on the telly the other night. Let me try to paint the picture…generally speaking, there is a very important man in County Meath who is an aficionado in this area and he goes in and intervenes and collects it just as the sire is mounting the cow. He uses an apparatus that he designed that so realistic that the bull doesn’t know the difference. Again, really TMI to watch.

I’m not sure why all this animal breeding business makes me feel so uncomfortable. What I do know for sure is that writing about it has made me feel the urge to immediately book a divine, girly city holiday as soon as possible.  {Ok sweetie?}

Coming up: I will be featuring a very different kind of Irish sexiness, Trish Deseine, the best-selling author who was born in Belfast, now living in Paris and whom has been dubbed “The Irish woman who is France’s Nigella.”

Slan Abhaile,

Imen

Photo courtesy of Easy Living

Tags: Aidan, Artificial insemination, bagel, Carrie Bradshaw, cow, farm, heifer, Irish, Living, Manolo, Mui Mui, New York times, Nigella, Sex and The City, sire, Trish Deseine

Sean and Kieran Murphy

One of the first wonderful things I discovered whilst living in Ireland is also one of the most important things a girl needs when she moves to a teeny-tiny, medieval village in new country far, far away from her family, friends, cat and career. This all-important saving grace would be: ICE CREAM. And I don’t mean just any ice cream. Ice cream that will take your homesickness and melancholy away. Ice cream that will sooth your aching, grieving heart. Spend time with you. Be your friend. This ice cream has to be top notch, crème de la crème, or for me, at least as good as Sebastian Joe’s, Izzy’s, Mad Martha’s or any beautiful custard ice cream from Door County. It must be creamy and rich, but not too sweet; really fresh and light, but not full of air. I was very lucky to find it within a week of moving over. This Irish ice cream is extraordinary and it is called Murphys.  Murphys is so entirely perfect and delicious that it immediately became my BFF.

Now, just so you know, R and I both basically had a love affair with Murphys Ice Cream. We did everything together: day trips to Dingle to visit the café, sourcing it shops in Limerick and other venues, always asking at restaurants if they had Murphy’s on offer for dessert.  We’d stock up from Ivan’s so we’d always have some on hand when the urge set in for a few scoops of (me)honeycomb or (him)chocolate. (the Brown Bread flavour is my close second, yummmm.)

So, imagine my complete and utter joy when Kieran Murphy of Murphys Ice Cream sent me a message saying that he thought this blog one of the best he’d seen in a long time. A tear welled up in my eye. And then I immediately went to Ivan’s for a couple pints of Murphy’s to celebrate with.

Irish brothers Sean and Kieran Murphy were born in NYC and started Murphy’s Ice Cream in Dingle, County Kerry in the year 2000. Their goal was to make the best ice cream in the world. Over the next two years the business grew, the ice cream became more refined, and customers from outside Kerry became more insistent on having Murphys Ice Cream closer to home. In 2005, Murphys Ice Cream opened a second shop on Main Street in Killarney. In a bid to support the indigenous breed and because the milk is so wonderful, Murphys Ice Cream uses milk from the magnificent Kerry cow. In 2008, the “Book of Sweet Things”, composed of gorgeous Murphys ice cream recipes was published. Murphys Ice Cream has won numerous awards and accolades, but what they’re really interested in is exciting and delighting their customers. An interest that really does shine through.

Kieran was kind enough to let me interview him for this post so I’ve asked him a few questions about being an expat and just what he loves about Ireland.…

1.   What was it like moving to Ireland after growing up in America.. What was(is) the greatest thing about being here? (and for me personally, what were the biggest challenges?)

I moved to Ireland originally because I became tired of the US – specifically the one-sided, all-consuming attitude toward work, and having work define you so much as a person. Here, I have always felt life was fuller and more varied. Since I grew up with Irish citizenship, moving here was quite easy, and I always felt welcome. The challenges have been the same anytime I have moved – make new friends, and find your way into the community. The only other big challenge has been coping with the gloomy weather!

2.    What is Murphy’s relationship with Irish farmers and producers?

We try our best to support farmers and food producers as best we can. In terms of farmers, we are buying in local, free range eggs as well as our direct link with the farmer supplying us with our Kerry cow milk. We also try to buy what we can as flavours - fruits in season, local honey, etc. For food producers we helped set up Blas na hÉireann – the Irish Food Awards to highlight the excellent produce about the place, and we do our best to always plug Irish foods in the press.

3.    What Irish dishes do you love?

My aunt made her own Irish soda bread, which was a big source of excitement in our family growing up, since it meant a special occasion (served with jam and cream). I think, however, rather than the dishes, what really makes me drool is the quality of our raw ingredients here in Ireland – amazing fish, best dairy in the world, spuds, certain fruits and vegetables, etc. Of course, we can’t forget the excellent whiskeys and stouts as well

4.   What are some Irish traditions or sensibilities that you love..

I love that traditions are alive and well in this part of Ireland – Wren’s Day, Nollaig na mBhan, traditional music, naomhóg races, Lunasa, the Irish language, etc. Sensibilities would include ability and need to have fun, balance in life, community spirit, less social stratification than elsewhere (at least in rural areas).

5.    Fave places in Ireland that you would recommend visiting?

Kerry, of course!!! Specifically I love Dingle, including the Blaskets, Killarney National Park and all of our amazing landscapes. Outside the Kingdom, I’m very partial to Donegal, Connemara, and the Antrim coast. Slightly off the beaten track, I’d suggest Clonmacnoise, Killaloe, Ardmore, and all the archeological treasures in the Boyne Valley. There are so, so many wonderful places around Ireland, though, and a short list is very hard!

6.  Would you ever move back to the USA?

I certainly am not planning on it, but I never count anything out because the moment I do, life takes me in that direction! There’s a lot I love about the US, and I could be happy there. However, I’m happy very here.

7.   Anything else new in 2010 for Murphy’s that you’d like to share?

2010 is our 10th year in business, so we hope there will be lots of celebrations, specials, and fun. We’d like to expand a bit this year, but so much will depend on how the year progresses. Most important to us is to use our 10th Anniversary to spoil our customers, who have been so loyal and supportive over the years. Now, if we could only arrange a bit of sun for the summer…

The “Book of Sweet Things” is available to international customers online through Mercier Press. You can also find more info on Murphys Ice Cream at www.murphysicecream.ie or check out Kieran’s blog at www.icecreamireland.com

Slan Abhaile,

Imen

Caveat: because I grew up in the Midwest of the USA and am accustomed to such Fargo-like isms such as “ya betcha” and “pret’near”, I feel I can write about this topic in an unbiased, non-judging manner. Oh, and even poke fun a little bit.

This post sets out to help you avoid any embarrassing moments of confusion or shock when confronted with some commonly used Irish slang words or expressions while you are living in or visiting Ireland. After nearly 5 years of living here, I’ve heard so many new terms and phrases that I would venture to say that clever Irish communication style is one the of the top things Ireland has on offer. It most certainly makes my day on a regular basis!

So, without further adieu, here is Part 1, A-J, the shortlisted glossary of my favourite Irish slang words and phrases derived from both farm country and city life alike:

Ask Me Arse: (v) (rhetorical) What do you take me for.  “You need a lift to Dublin to go shopping? Ask me arse! That’s tree (3) hours away!”

Bang On: (adj) Correct. Perfectly accurate. “Ohhhh, that Tiffany key necklace is bang on sweetie. May I please have one?”

Banjaxed: (adj) Broken. Severely damaged. “Me head is totally banjaxed after last night’s (drinking) session with the lads”

Babby (n) Baby. Small Child. Name of Imen’s forthcoming babywear line. “Me ma had her first babby when she was 12 and never looked back”

Bejeebus: (expr) By Jesus. “Bejeebus! The magpies are savage round here this year!”

Black Stuff. (n) Stout. “I’ll take a pint of the black stuff and a half-pint of Bulmer’s for the lady”

The Business. (n) Something cool. “Monart Spa is the business, don’t you think sweetie? We really must get away for a weekend soon”

Call. (v) to drop by someone’s home. (usually unexpectedly). “I think I’ll just call over to Imen’s this morning, I’m sure she’ll be well prepared for guests.” {yeah right}

Craic. (n) pronounced “crack”.  Fun. “There’s great craic to be found at the pub round the corner”  {and you most likely won’t get arrested for it}

Chancer (n) Untrustworthy person.  “That aul chancer, he’d better put it right”

Cow. (n) crabby lady. “She’s a right old cow, but sure, she always goes to mass on time so she’s grand”

Da. (n) Father. Irish for father.  “Me and me Da used to go sloe picking in the fields.”

Doss (on the) (n) Failing to show up for work/school during specified hours. “I swear I wasn’t on de doss, I really did have a brain transplant yesterday!’

Dub. (adj) Someone from Dublin. “Once a Dub, always a Dub”

Eejit. (n) Person of limited mental capacity. Complete moron. “That eejit is back on Fair City again”

Fair Play. (expr) Well done. “Fair play to all of ye who finally put grit down on the icy roads!”

Fanny. (n) Female genitals. {and I don’t mean your bum} “She had on no knickers and you could see her fanny, to think!!”

Feck. (v)(n) Politically correct term for f**k.  “Oh feck! I said f**k!”

Full Shilling. (not the) (adj) Mentally challenged. “All those loud Americans…definitely not of the full shilling”

Gas. (adj) Amusing. Funny. Hilarious. “That Des Bishop sure is gas”

Give out. (v) To yell. Scream. Reprimand.  “Me mum’s giving out to me again fer wearing too much mascara and me tacky white leather boots!”

Grand. (adj) Fine. Good. “Who me? Sure, I’m grand”

Happy Out. (adj). To be content. “Just leave me at Brown Thomas for the afternoon and I’ll be happy out”

Holy Show. (v) To make a big deal out of something. “Bejeebus! he really made a holy show of things!”

Hooley.(n) Raucous celebration involving drinking and singing. “There’s a hooley on tonite at Kelly’s!”

Howaya/Hiya/Heya. (greeting). Hi. Hello. “Heya, anything strange(new)with you?”

Jacks (n) Toilet. Restroom. “Did you see the state of de jacks in there?! They couldn’t be arsed to have em cleaned” note: the term toilet is used here more so than bathroom/restroom…”I need to go to the toilet” is a very common expression or “I’m going to the loo”.

Janey Mack! (expr) Expression of utter disbelief. Wow! “Janey Mack! That See by Chloe bag would be half the price in the USA!”

Jar (n). A pint of beer or stout. “Okay so, let’s dander down to the local for a jar or two”

So that’s part one, stay tuned for part two…

Thank you for all of your emails for last week’s drawing to win Donal Skehan’s, Good Mood Food. And the winner is: Cathy Stephens of Baton Rouge, LA. USA. Congratulations!

Slan Abhaile,

Imen

Tags: Bulmers, Des Bishop, Fair City, Fargo, farmer, Good Mood Food, ireland, Irish slang, married, See by Chloe