The Saint Patrick's Day That Wasn't

Even in Salalah, talk of wearing green on "the big day" was everywhere. To get a special on Irish beer at the bars, ya had to wear green. Green eyeshadow doesn't count by the way. I didn't want beer but I did want one of the specials and the Oasis turned me down. No discount on calamari for you!

I wailed that I didn't HAVE any clean green clothes; I put on green eyeshadow instead!. I wailed that I, in fact, was one of the only people sitting in the club with a genetic connection to Ireland. No dice. No specials, no discount, no way. Come back in green.

It kinda pissed me off, but I've moved on. Very few people here even know why they will wear green tonight to get boozy discounts at the Hilton. Even fewer know what St. Patrick's Day is all about.Or care. This week, we're all Irish!

Cracks me up every time.

The day actually celebrates St. Patrick and the arrival of Christianity in Ireland and is held on the anniversary of his death on March 17, 461 CE. Should you ever get the urge, reading about Christianity in Ireland before Rome took over is really interesting stuff.  Lenten restrictions are lifted that day, which might explain the green beer and enthusiastic drinking. Not that the Irish are typically known for excessive drinking. As for green, the story goes that Patrick used the shamrock to explain the Trinity to the unconverted, and it's green, so there ya go. 

I remember my mother insisted on American Irish food on that day, a salty corned beef and boiled cabbage dinner beloved by New Englanders, Irish or not. She said we had to have a meal and think about our crazy Irish relatives. There was my Aunt ****, for example, who broke her arm and for years simply flopped it around, hoisting it's considerable girth with her free arm when she needed to. It was kinda gross really, but she didn't want to go through the hassle of a bone graft, and since she was in no pain, didn't see the point. Her sister was a legend in the area for her prodigious skills with men, and had a very special nickname I dasn't repeat. I dasn't. I don't think being faintly and remotely Irish had anything to do with this family lunacy, but it made for good talk over the boiled cabbage! 

I wanted to make a green cake for the good people at work; we have one Irish teacher left so why not? The problem is I had very little good green food coloring left, and I don't love my coworkers enough to drive to the store and buy more. Hah! 

I made a simple almond flavored bundt cake (again with the bundt cakes) and put a dite of green in the batter. Then I had a massive gas bubble in my brain and dumped in BLUE AND RED COLORING. What possessed me to think those colors make green? I know they don't. At the same time I did that, I turned off the oven with the soda bread, thinking I was shutting off the burner with the boiled eggs. 

Not my morning. The soda bread was delicous though, even though the oven was off for about 20 minutes.

Irish Soda Bread

This recipe really does cook in an hour, and is yummy with butter and jam. Or beef stew. Man I'm hungry. 

4 cups of flour

1 T baking powder

1 t baking soda

1 t salt

1 c raisins or currents (disgusting..I did NOT include)

1 T caraway seeds (I didn't have any)

2 1/4 c buttermilk (use whole milk with a tablespoon of white vinegar if none available)

Preheat the oven to 350. Leave it on the whole time you bake the bread (unlike meself). Lightly oil a baking sheet.

Mix the dry ingredients in a large bowl. I personally use a stand mixer with a dough hook for the whole process. Add the buttermilk, raisins and caraway seed. Mix until it all comes together in a ball. Knead briefly into shape and place on baking sheet. Slash the top and bake for about 40 minutes, until golden and hollow sounding. 

Their bread. Note the yacky currents.

My soda bread. I want some now, except the doctor told me to stop eating bread. Dang it!

I dub thee Larry Flint Pink. If you have to ask.....

There is no recipe for this, as I can't really remember what I did. It was one of those kinds of mornings. Mornings where you try and make a green cake for an Irishman, and you end up with a ghastly porno pink confection. Let's just leave it at that. 

Tasted ok though. 

Love,

Felicia El Aid