As you can tell from my
pasty alabaster, Slim Goodbody-like complexion, I’m about as Irish as they come. On both sides of the family.
Dad’s side dropped the O’ from our surname long ago, hoping to blend in with the masses. Not sure how effective that tactic was, what with our penchant for red hair and blue eyes, but it was probably worth a shot.
Mom tells childhood tales of fiddles coming out after the harvest, with my Papa getting jiggy with it around a bonfire as the community celebrated together.
Luckily for you, that Riverdance gene skipped a couple of generations.
But the food gene is fully intact, and each St. Patrick’s Day provides an excuse to make my favorite Irish food: colcannon.
Go ahead. Pull out the cabbage and potatoes, fry up a little bacon, and release that naughty inner sprite. We’re all part of the Celtic family today.
Lá fhéile Pádraig sona dhaoibh!