Kinsale

Kinsale  lies along the southern coast of Ireland, about a half-hour's drive or a hour long bus ride from Cork City. Kinsale was my destination today. It is Friday the 13th, and this day marks the first full week I have been in Ireland, and it is also the day in which I most enjoyed Irish cuisine.

I left with a group of four at 9:30am this morning and hailed a taxi to take us to the bus station. "Where are you from?" he asked us. After learning we were from Texas, he became interested in our bovine holdings. "Any ranches have you?" (next time you sterotype the Irish, just remember how many we have as Texans. Don't you Always walk around your ranch in cowboy boots?)

One member of our group happened to have parents who owned 50 head of cattle. "Fifty!?" he asked with disbelief, "Five-oh?" Yes indeed! "Well now, dat twould be considered a smahll farm here!" The ranch was really kind of a hobby. "Most fahrmers have at least five hundred." I have no doubts after seeing the Irish countryside.

We traveled to Kinsale on Bus Eireann, the national bus service. I don't think I can ever get used to driving through Ireland. The swells of the greenest hills, spattered with contented grazing cows and sheep. Tucked into the folds of the land lie the most picturesque farmhouses, and even more stunning, ancient castles, forts, and cathedrals rise up as reminders of past grandeur.

We arrived in Kinsale and after taking photos of the sailboats, we happened upon a delightful homemade chocolate shop. The twinkling owner offered us samples of sea salted dark chocolate and made recommendations for the peppermint creams he had just finished making. We sampled and purchased, enchanted and tastefully delighted by his wares. 

The little town is exactly what I picutured as an "Irish harbor town." The hills which have built up sigh as they slip down the mouth of the River Lee and into the Atlantic, ushering sailboats and fishing rigs into these waters of plenty. 

The houses were in the style they have been in since the Titantic, though many of the store cater very much to tourists who like to shop and eat. We wandered down the winding and wonderfully disorienting streets until we came to the Lemon Leaf Cafe, offering a Full Irish Breakfast. We were hooked.

Complete with a pot of tea, breakfast in this tiny cafe consisted of fried eggs, sausage, black and white pudding, bacon, toast, and a tomato. This may not sound hugely exotic, but oh my, the taste of it! The bacon was my favorite. Looking nothing like U.S. bacon, it was not crispy, but thick and juicy. The toast was probably baked that morning and was covered with butter that was more like cream than solid and had so much flavor, you could tell that the cow enjoyed her life and had some quality grass. From what I have seen, there just isn't the kind of mass-produced preservative-laden food culture which dominates the U.S. Especially with the dairy products, the farms don't just grow, but cultivate a culinary experience in something as simple as butter. 

 

After breakfast, we continued to explore the shops with low-ceilings, complicated infrastructure, and a smell of a hundred years of life in the rain. The wares ranged from kitschy shamrock keychains to lamb wool sweaters.  I managed to hold off on souvenir shopping for now, but it was hard here! 

We stopped for a snack about mid-afternoon at a diner inspired by the U.S. 1950s where I had a milkshake. The no preservative, fresh made chocolate-hazel-nut ice cream mixed with fresh whole milk (simply mixed!) was amazing. One of our last stops of the day was Kinsale Silver Shop. Silver pendants, rings, and token adorned the crevices in the walls. In the corner the silversmith was hard at work, polishing yet another piece. He has been crafting for twenty years, he told us, "a long time, sometimes."

We finished the day at Kinsale at a restaurant called Fishy Fishy which came highly recommended by our professors. I shared a savory dish of crab claws in garlic-lemon-chili sauce. It was delicious. As it was not American snow crab, we decided it must be "harbor crab," caught that day just outside our window.