The beans are soaking. The swimming schedule has been agreed with Gretel. I had a no-sugar cereal for breakfast and a salad for lunch. It is back to porridge now I have returned from a gluttonous trip to Ireland.
Readers have been known to question the absolute truth of every word written here, particularly in regard to Irish food. They are wedded to the idea that America is the land of overeating, and that in Ireland we still suffer something of a famine. There has been scoffing (hah!) at my suggestion that three kinds of potato can be standard at any meal and so I offer the proof below.
Let us begin with salad. The salad bar at the excellent Harlem cafe on Bedford Street, Belfast makes the following options available on its salad buffet: potato salad with mayonnaise; potato salad with french beans and a mustardy dressing; roast new potatoes with rosemary tossed in olive oil and rock salt.
The Radisson Blu down by the old gasworks in the Markets area offers hash browns, and saute potatoes at breakfast. The Cackler complained because there was no potato bread.
The Archana Indian restaurant on Dublin road knows its customers: it offers an entire potato menu.
Everywhere, there are signs for Comber new potatoes and it won’t be long now until Kerr’s Pinks are on sale. St George’s Market easily mustered three kinds of potato without involving without involving either of these.