“O Oysters,” said the Carpenter. “You’ve had a pleasant run! Shall we be trotting home again?” But answer came there none- And that was scarcely odd, because They’d eaten every one.’  -Lewis Carroll, The Walrus and the Carpenter.

The first time I had an oyster I wanted to try out the “aphrodisiac” quality. Not sure it worked on me, though I must say I did find the flavour and sense of gastronomic adventure very desirable. The native Irish oyster “Ostrea Edulis” can be found throughout the coastal regions of Ireland and would be considered traditional seafood fare dating back to the 13th Century. The best way to enjoy the full flavour of oysters is to eat them raw, served on the half shell to hold their succulent juices. Fresh lemon juice or a drop of Tabasco sauce are often used as condiments and a cold pint of Guinness served on the side makes for a wonderful Summer supper.

Oyster culture is probably one of the most environmentally friendly types of farming as it doesn’t require any entrants to be added from the exterior (neither feed nor medication). It has also an extremely low and often negative carbon footprint. Oysters feed themselves on elements which are naturally found in the seas where they grow. The oyster farmer’s task is to simply accompany the natural growth of oysters by managing stocking densities and thereby naturally influencing shell shape and growth rates.  Irish oysters are coveted and are exported to a huge demand in France as well as the UK, Belgium, Germany and more distant markets such as the Ukraine, China and Japan.

The Galway International Oyster Festival takes place each September and has evolved from very modest beginnings. In September 1954, 34 guests attended the very first “Oyster Festival Banquet”. Now, thousands of people from around the world gather together to eat oysters and drink Guinness each year. The festival takes place this year the 22-26th of September and promises to be filled with loads of fun and frolic.

Perhaps we shall see you there?

Slan Abhaile,

Imen

Photo by Imen McDonnell. Assisted by Master Geoffrey McDonnell.

Tags: Farming, food, foodie, Galway Oyster Festival, Guinness, ireland, irish farmer, oyster farming, Oysters

The first time someone saluted me on the road it actually startled me. You see, it was one of those pointy, fingertip salutes whereby the person wags their finger a wee bit as if, in my mind, to say, “hey, you shouldn’t do that”.  I immediately checked to make sure I was driving on the right side of the road, which I was (for a change) and then I tried to mentally devise what I could have possibly been doing wrong. Soon another car came racing by and did the same action, which further boosted my anxiety. After 5 more cars and 4 pointy salutes (btw, I was in Tipperary and I rarely see this type of salute in our neck of the woods…we seem to have a lot of hand waves and head nods) I finally arrived at my destination. I immediately described this strange behaviour to my friends and, after a laugh at my expense, they explained that sure, it was merely a polite way to acknowledge you and say hello.

This is rural hospitality. And I am struck by it. Now, it is not to be mixed up with urban hospitality, i.e. scribbling “wash me please” on a dirty car or graciously keeping your head down on the subway. No, saluting and a few other lovely gestures are a true callback to times past…where being a decent and helpful person was simply a selfless act of kindness. Not saying that city dwellers are inhospitable, I won’t generalize-but I can’t claim to have ever been saluted in this way by a driver in L.A., NYC or MPLS. Unless, of course, you consider flipping a certain centrally located finger or sounding a wailing horn the same thing.

Calling in for a cup of tea unannounced is another one of those courteous gestures. Where we live you will always hear of “so and so” calling over to “so and so’s” for a warm cuppa and a chat to catch up on all the latest gossip (funerals, pregnancies, the priest and the weather, for example). Around here it still is nearly as much a ritual as going to church every Sunday. On the other hand, where I come from in the USA, the door doesn’t get answered unless it is known in advance whom the caller may be and what exactly they want with you. It is practically considered to be rude or perhaps even sneaky to pop by unannounced. You’d have to nearly “book in” at least a day in advance and declare your intentions for the visit with someone even as close as your best girlfriend. These are two extremes and at this stage I fall nicely into the middle.

Give me a ring to make sure I am home, and I will be happy to see you.

And if I drive past you on the road, I will salute.

Slan Abhaile,

Imen

Tags: country, cuppa, farm, hospitality, ireland, irish farmer, LA, marriage, NYC, tea