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View Full Version : St. Patrick's Day?



Sarita
03-14-2005, 07:43 PM
http://www.ottospubandbrewery.com/

Maryn
03-14-2005, 09:01 PM
I'm Irish-American enough to have a sister whose name was Madb before she changed the spelling.

So I'll bake my once-a-year Irish soda bread, if I get around to it.

Other than that, the usual Irish seven-course meal--a potato and a six-pack of Guinness...

Maryn, whose real name is not Maryn but Gaelic

Sarita
03-14-2005, 11:02 PM
Sounds like fun... I'll probably make Guinness stew and soda bread, yum. Even though I don't eat meat, a little broth wont kill me ;)

I'm only Irish enough for the slightly red hair and a few freckles.

Optimus
03-15-2005, 01:58 AM
Mmm...I'm hungry now for a traditional Irish breakfast...only...no black or white pudding (nasty) and sub potatoes for the fried tomatoes.

Mmm...now I'm craving a nice dish of Bacon and Sausage Hot Pie.

Wash it down with a nice pint of Murphy's, Guinness, Sam Smith's, or Sam Adam's Cream Stout.

Crap, I hate living in a dorm room with no kitchen.

Grrr...

Peace,
Shane (not raised Irish but loves to appreciate his family's grand Irish/Nordic lineage)

Medievalist
03-15-2005, 02:49 AM
I'll be here
(http://ls.berkeley.edu/dept/celtic/The%2027th%20%20Annual%20California%20Celtic%20Stu dies%20Conference%20Prog%85.pdf)

maestrowork
03-15-2005, 02:55 AM
Eat, drink, man, woman.

Any questions?

Maryn
03-15-2005, 03:04 AM
I'll be here
(http://ls.berkeley.edu/dept/celtic/The%2027th%20%20Annual%20California%20Celtic%20Stu dies%20Conference%20Prog%85.pdf)No more calls--I think we have a winner!

Maryn

ChunkyC
03-15-2005, 03:15 AM
I'm a full blooded Irishman, but for me it will be just another day at work.

*sigh*

Wandering Sensei
03-15-2005, 03:45 AM
When I was doing stepdancing and/or Irish music, I was always aware that St. Patrick's Day was coming up. It's the busy season for stepdancers, after all. This is the first year in a long time that I'm not. Sooo, I really don't know what I'll be doing. I have a lesson at the dojo on Thursday, and since I'm currently a green belt, I'll be wearing the right colors. :Cheers: :box:

CindyBidar
03-15-2005, 04:13 AM
I will be torturing my co-workers with several hours of The Irish Rovers (http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/B00000I8KS/qid=1110845261/sr=2-1/ref=pd_bbs_b_2_1/002-6080957-4729663). I'm particularly fond of the Unicorn and the Orange and the Green. http://www.absolutewrite.com/forums/images/smilies/biggrin.gif

Optimus
03-15-2005, 05:48 AM
TRADITIONAL IRISH BREAKFAST

INGREDIENTS

8 slices of Traditional Irish Bacon (Premium)
4 Traditional Irish Sausages (Bangers)
4 slices of Traditional Black Breakfast Pudding
4 slices of Traditional White Breakfast Pudding
4 eggs
4 Medium size tomatoes
Freshly ground pepper

Over low heat, saute bacon, turning frequently until done to taste. Remove from pan and drain on paper towels. Keep hot. It is important to note that Irish bacon is not cooked crisp hard. Place sausages in pan and cook until brown on all sides. Cut the tomatoes in half and fry with slices of pudding in the bacon fat. Remove and keep hot. All the above items can also be broiled instead of being fried. Cook eggs to order.

Serves 4

I like using fried potato wedges or slices rather than tomatoes. I hate tomatoes unless they're in salsa or marinara. :tongue

And, what's really good is this...

SAUSAGE AND BACON HOT PIE

INGREDIENTS

1lb Traditional Sausages (Bangers)
Salt and pepper to taste
5 large peeled potatoes
1 oz oil
2pts water
Pinch of thyme
1 small sliced onion
Chopped parsley
1 bay leaf

Heat oil in pan, brown sausages and lightly saute bacon. Slice potatoes thinly. Mix potatoes with herbs and onions and season with salt and pepper. Layer an ovenproof dish with potatoes. Place sausages and bacon on top of potatoes. Neatly arrange an overlapping layer of potatoes on top. Pour water over all ingredients. Place a bay leaf on top. Cook in pre-heated oven at 220 C till lightly colored. Reduce heat to 170 C and cook for a further 30 minutes. Press down potatoes occasionally during cooking. Remove bay leaf. Brush potatoes after cooking with melted butter and sprinkle with chopped parsley.
Serves 6 to 8



Wash it all down with a few pints of Guinness or some other good stout (Sierra Nevada, Sam Adams Cream, Murphy's, etc) and you're good to go!

William Haskins
03-15-2005, 05:53 AM
what any good irishman would do. drinking myself blind, pissing on the lawn and head-butting my neighbor, before hugging him and crying like a baby.

Sarita
03-15-2005, 06:06 AM
what any good irishman would do. drinking myself blind, pissing on the lawn and head-butting my neighbor, before hugging him and crying like a baby.

Oh man, this statement alone proves why I love this site so much.

Sounds like we're all going to have a great St. Patrick's Day. :D

three seven
03-15-2005, 06:16 AM
Eat, drink, man, woman.

Any questions?
Yeah, which one are you going to eat first?

Kida Adelyne
03-15-2005, 06:20 AM
I will be torturing my co-workers with several hours of The Irish Rovers (http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/B00000I8KS/qid=1110845261/sr=2-1/ref=pd_bbs_b_2_1/002-6080957-4729663). I'm particularly fond of the Unicorn and the Orange and the Green. http://www.absolutewrite.com/forums/images/smilies/biggrin.gif
How can anyone be tortured by the Irish Rovers? I love them.

What am I doing? Well I'm niether Catholic, nor Irish, so I'm going to forget to wear green, then patiently explain that to anyone who tries to pinch me.


-Ally

Sarita
03-15-2005, 06:44 AM
Mmm...I'm hungry now for a traditional Irish breakfast...only...no black or white pudding (nasty) and sub potatoes for the fried tomatoes.

I'm not a big fan of the pudding either. But then again I don't eat meat. Okay, I have a confession. I will eat rashers when I'm in Ireland. They're just so damn good! Even a vegetarian has to have one vice. Wait, can I have more than one?

Vipersniper
03-15-2005, 07:34 AM
:idea: I am going to a gemstone mine that has aquamarine and beryl to make jewelry for my other hobby. I am also looking for a greenish stone amazonite to make a pendant for a friend. I also write articles for the mines and encourage school children to explore gemstone mining. So it is a working field trip. I will also set four stones that are emerald into a pin for myself. By the way there are gemstone mines in my area.

maestrowork
03-15-2005, 07:51 AM
Yeah, which one are you going to eat first?

I can't say it here -- this is a family board...

Spookster
03-15-2005, 07:59 AM
I will most likely make Corned beef and cabbage, green mashed potatoes, lime jello with a sour cream topping, and green bread to boot. Don't scoff. It's a family tradition passed down four generations and I must abide. (The tradition is on my mom's side, the Irish disent is from my father.)

I'll also most likely forget to send my son to school in green. In turn, I'll be lectured upon picking him up about how many times he was pinched. This is a tradition I've started. Hehehe.

three seven
03-15-2005, 03:44 PM
I will eat rashers when I'm in Ireland... Even a vegetarian has to have one vice.
It's not usually meat though, is it? :D

rich
03-15-2005, 04:06 PM
I'm Italian, English, and Irish. However, it's so little Irish that if I had a moderate nosebleed, I'd be drummed out of the clan. I once marched in New York's St. Patricks day parade. We were a small group from the Emerald Society of The New York Transit System--pretty much at the tail end of the parade.

What I remember most was when we reached St. Patrick's church. There was an old woman there, all in green, and sporting a bright red--dyed I'm sure--head of hair. Although hordes of marchers had already gone by, she still cheered our motley wee group as though St. Patrick himself was holding our banner.

Tip for tourists: Don't try to get into McSorley's on the 17th.

Sarita
03-15-2005, 05:25 PM
It's not usually meat though, is it? :D


I can't say it here -- this is a family board...

;)

ZaZ
03-15-2005, 05:51 PM
This is what happened last year. This year I am going to try to avoid it.



St. Patrick’s Day was nothing but the calendar’s attempt to slow me down by speeding me up. I slept in until noon. I had a late lunch and an early dinner. By seven, I was as innocent as a babe. Then I happened upon a bottle of Windsor Canadian, some cola, ice and a few tokes of nature’s own goodness. Two hours passed and I was ready to really start drinking. The Windsor bottle was empty. The parking lot of the Cantina was packed but I drove on by. I slipped into Zorbaz. The crowd had been decimated. Tate was kind enough to save me the last green beer and I bellied up across from Larry.

“Hey Lare, where is everyone?”
“They all got drunk early and left.”
“****, that sucks.”
“Not really, it was the old crowd anyway.”

I was wearing a Guinness hat, reminiscent of the Cat in the Hat’s in shape but really it just looked like a huge pint of stout on my head. I dialogued the few chicks left in the bar and proceeded to nurse the liter of green beer while chain smoking cigarettes. I was surrounded by regulars and Zorbaz employees off-duty. In the back was a group of guys playing one of those vidiot games where the object is to blow away animated deer with a bright orange, plastic rifle. I’m a quasi-pacifist. In this group, my nemesis. He is obviously a hunter.

We all have those people that rub us the wrong way or for some reason go out of their way to be a pain in the ***. What is worse about my nemesis is he will proclaim he just cares about the Bob and if his questions seem to be an invasion of my privacy that is my problem not his. The guy has a keen interest in my finances and is associated with a group of young men who cannot grasp the fact that I haven’t held a job since March of 2001.

“I’m an artist! If you want to wake up five days a week to go slave for someone just to continue the status-quo that is the nightmare of our supposed freedom and the even worse silliness of our make believe economy, go ahead! I mean, really, just go get a 30 year mortgage while interest rates dictate affordability! I don’t want to hear about it. I’m done talking to you!”

He stared at me like he didn’t believe I was thirty seconds away from giving him a steady diet of uppercuts.

“What? You want the hat, punk? Here ya go! Just for you, the dunce cap of the evening!”

I pulled the Guinness hat over his eyes. The entire bar was staring at a wild-eyed, adrenaline pumped, four-leaf clover ready to blow. I offered a handshake. The nemesis refused, stood up and left the bar.

“Bob, just because you’re a lot smarter than that guy doesn’t give you the right to be that big of a dick.”
“Says who?”

She had me there, a valid point. I forget her name but her voluptuous nature was just what Dr. Windsor had ordered.

“Calm down. Now, are you going to follow us back to our house?”
“Anything you say, toots.”

Last call had come and gone. Time was the midway point between two and three in the morning. It had snowed the entire evening and frozen. The roads were slick. I fired up a cigarette, the Buick and tore off after the girls.

There comes a time in the lifecycle of every drunken driver. Not the guilt of the act or the physical mistakes caused by inebriation. The point at which decision making abilities cease to function. I was at the crossroads of the county road leading to my home and the highway. There was a lineup on both sides of the highway of five cars. The sobriety of each driver was in question. It was too early for the bar employee rush hour home. These were the hard core drunks. The girls turned left, southbound on the highway.

All I had to do was go straight, leave those two broads alone, get off the road and go sleep this drunk off. I turned left in hot pursuit of the fairer sex. The alignment was off a bit to the left in the Buick and the front tire pulled as I plowed through slush. Below the slush were patches of black ice. A slight fishtail of the Buick sent my cigarette flying out the open driver’s side window.

“****.”

I rolled up the window and turned up some classical music on NPR. The Buick was made with “Concert Sound.” I don’t know what it is but it does make classical music sound better. I was in the middle of Tchaikovsky’s “Pathetique” when I felt the first fish tail bordering on loss of control. My foot came off the accelerator and my hands off the wheel. The drop in speed seemed to help but the misalignment bit into the next pile of slush.

I have a history of doing 360’s on highways at decent speed in the winter time. I’m a magnet for automobile mishaps. I’ve watched friends mutilate deer while digging for a CD. I saw the deer in the road. I could have warned the driver. I just sat there waiting for it to happen. I’ve convinced myself this is constructive apathy. We all know I just don’t give a ****.

The first 360, “Oh ****.”
Second, “God damn it!”
Third, “**** it.”

I sat back, closed my eyes and enjoyed the G forces. Tchaikovsky was perfect for my mood. I was just waiting to hit a mailbox and have it go right through my head. Bleeding to death at the bottom of a ditch almost seemed appropriate. The fourth 360 happened as I was facing north while spinning southbound. I had crossed the median and as the back tire hit the snow bank the Buick snapped to attention facing south. I slid thirty feet to the bottom of the steepest part of the ditch. I had just missed a driveway that would have sent the car flying and was forty yards short of open water. The driver door flew open. I killed the ignition. There was no way the vehicle was going anywhere.

I hopped out of the car like a brutha being chased on the television show Cops. I sprinted up a sixty degree incline singing, “Bad boys, bad boys, whacha gonna do? Whacha gonna do when they come for you?” A far cry from “Pathetique” in style but apropos nonetheless. The temperature was in the twenties. I was wearing shorts. It was still snowing. Stunned, in a controlled panic with adrenaline pumping longer than I needed, I crossed the highway on foot.

“Why didn’t I just go straight home?”

This time I did exactly that. I had conveniently crashed at a path by the lake leading the two miles to my home. Had it been summer, this would have been a nice walk. Instead, the blowing snow had drifted and the path was laborious. At least I wasn’t walking down the highway like some drunk. I could have used a light pole - for support, not illumination. I hoofed it fifty yards.

“**** this.”

I turned, looked back at the highway and lit my last cigarette. In the middle of the woods, even close to the highway, the animals snatch scents and hear bumps. My cigarette and a few curses had spooked some large fowl nearby. I heard the sound of their beating wings echo off the lake surface. Every third step I kicked a drift out of the way. I searched the ground for level area. Step, step, poof. Step, step, poof. I could have used more cigarettes. They were in Christina’s car. My last view of the girls was just before the first 360. Their tail lights disappeared around a corner.

The final half-mile of the trek was a slow incline. Torture and somewhat painful for the typical barstooler, but it had the feeling of walking out of Dante’s hell. For at the end of the incline was the Craftmatic adjustable bed. I needed to lay down. The adrenaline from escaping death, the disappointment of my inherent ability to elude twists of fate and the chagrin of the morning, tow truck duties kept sleep at bay. I couldn’t write. I didn’t want to grasp the consequences of my actions. It is not in my nature to question myself. I just turned on Dr. Fiorella Torenzi and listened to her sing about dancing and quantum mechanics...repeat…repeat…repeat. I was the object of my own spite and it was hopeless. All I could do was chastise myself with an evil chuckle heard in the background.

Sarita
03-16-2005, 12:24 AM
This year I am going to try to avoid it.

Sounds like that's your best bet.

ChunkyC
03-16-2005, 04:02 AM
A little St. Paddy's day wish for all members of the Water Cooler:

Work like you don't need the money.

Love like you've never been hurt.

Dance like nobody's watching.

Sing like nobody's listening.

Live like it's Heaven on Earth

http://pages.prodigy.net/bestsmileys1/emoticons3/freebie-irish-derby.gif

Renee
03-16-2005, 08:41 AM
I will be at the local festival listening to the battle of the bands!

:Cheers:

Betty W01
03-16-2005, 09:13 AM
I will be at work. Pray I don't forget to wear green. Some kid is bound to lose his mind and think pinching me is a good idea. NOT!

And I will be hoping none of my supposedly-grown-up kids end up too drunk to make good decisions. (Hey, I can hope...)

Nivvie
03-16-2005, 12:15 PM
Out of interest, why is it just St Patrick?
There's loads of other saints days.
Then again, does the US have a patron saint?

Sarita
03-17-2005, 06:43 PM
Mmmm, Irish Breakfast was goooo-ooood. Especially the scones. (the stout was good too)

Sara

maestrowork
03-17-2005, 07:03 PM
Well...


Happy St. Patrick's Day!

:hat::D:partyguy::Cheers:

Sarita
03-17-2005, 07:07 PM
Indeed .....

rich
03-17-2005, 07:11 PM
"""BURP"""

ChunkyC
03-17-2005, 07:49 PM
Out of interest, why is it just St Patrick?
There's loads of other saints days.
Then again, does the US have a patron saint?
Bing Crosby? (http://music.msn.com/album/?album=10289379)

From a purebred Irishman to everyone: Happy St. Patrick's Day! Let's dance an Irish jig! http://pages.prodigy.net/bestsmileys1/emoticons3/BlueStPaddydance.gif

Maryn
03-17-2005, 08:09 PM
I have failed in my duties as a parent of part-Irish descent. Our son emailed to ask me about the package of bright green Rice Krispie Treats I sent him--what did that "Erin go bragh!" on the label mean?

Maryn

JanaLanier
03-18-2005, 03:29 AM
When is an Irish potato not Irish?

...

...

wait for it...

...

When it's a french fry!

(well, my kids liked it, anyway)