Ireland Beckons 3: We Just Picked...

They say that an army travels on its stomach. I say so do tourists, and judging by the 2006 Clarke-Goldman Expeditionary March Across Southeast Ireland, it's the only way to go.

It all began innocently enough, with High Tea at the Merrion Hotel in Dublin (see Ireland Beckons 2). Tall, polished wood tables and low, upholstered chairs designed to allow our crinolines, had we been wearing them, to cascade gracefully over the shallow arms—and to keep the vittles at eye level when served. Behind us a peat fire burned in the grate while intelligent, graceful attendants took our order. A choice of tea blends (not, I hasten to add, of the Celestial Seasonings variety), little china plates, dainty linen serviettes, and a silver plated, three-tiered cakestand moaning seductively under the assembled weight of scrumptious finger sandwiches. These were composed of finely sliced fresh-baked bread, crusts removed (of course), embracing silken slices of smoked salmon, rare roast beef or baked ham. Egg salad was served in dear little brioche buns. And that was just the bottom tier! The middle tier held restrained slices of dark fruit cake, Irish brack, and banana bread, as well as doll-sized fruit tartlets. The topmost tier was a crown of scones, plain and raisin...with bowls of raspberry jam and whipped cream to help them go down. STOP! There was three of everything ... because there were three of us (Mary Harrington, Amy's friend from years ago, joined us), but we could have fed a small platoon.

Earlier that morning, Amy and I, wandering around Dublin, stumbled into a small farmer's market just off Temple Bar. Organic food is just as important there as it here to those who appreciate quality food, and support for family farms and local producers is huge. Slow Food Ireland has its most vocal supporter in Peter Ward, who is passionate about the necessity to conserve and encourage small local farmers and artisanal food producers -- they are the backbone of rural communities. Irish cheeses are beginning to find their way into the market over here, but this artisan cheese maker had sorts we'd never seen. The temptation to become renegade cheese smugglers was hard to resist.

From the comfort and food of Ballykeally Manor (see previous blog), we sauntered down to the Mount Juliet Conrad Hotel, Thomastown, County Kilkenny. There aren't enough stars to bestow an adequate accolade on this huntin', shootin', fishin' estate turned country house hotel. And don't forget the golf course and equestrian center.

Or the view.

Or the comfort...complete with peat fire...

Or the garden and grounds...this is a garden tour, don't forget...

And the food! I didn't get a chance to photograph it because, quite frankly, I was too busy with my knife and fork to pick up the camera. But trust me—the duck breast was perfectly cooked and plated, and elevated to perfection by the poached pear veiled in a truffle-flavored glaze. A complete taste revelation. Truffles and pears...perfect.

Fish is a big deal in Ireland...it being an island nation and all. And most days I started off with locally smoked wild salmon. It's one of my main food groups...and Amy's, too, as it turned out. But we met our Waterloo in Kinsale at Fishy Fishy Cafe. Amy buckled under the weight of her smoked salmon platter. I tried to help, but was prevented from doing all I could by the bowl of luscious mussels in cream and white wine I had just downed. The fact that it was noon, and we'd breakfasted at 9am might also have contributed to defeat. But, oh well, there will assuredly be other smoked salmons to tackle along the route.

Kinsale is renowned as the Foodie Mecca in Ireland. Check out http://www.kinsalerestaurants.com/ to learn more about Kinsale's Good Food Circle. Located just south of Cork City, the first festival was 30 years ago. I recall my mother attended, and returned raving about the goodies. But, inevitably, quality slipped, but over the past few years, the old Kinsale sparkle has started to return. This is most evident at the Blue Haven Hotel, our base for the past two days while Amy and I explored the further reaches of a fish-based diet.

Blue Haven had been the epicenter of the original Kinsale phenomena, and under the direction of new owner, Cairan Fitzgerald, the place is enjoying a renaissance. A native Kinsalean, Ciaran purchased the hotel several years ago; he's a chartered accountant, and admits that becoming hotelier was a paradigm leap, but "I just wanted to be part of Kinsale again." Bless his heart...because the Blue Haven is heaven. Located in the heart of the town, the rooms are small, but state-of-the-art modern (pillow menus, king-size beds, fast DSL (cable is not an option in rural Ireland), and three restaurant venues, Ciaran's put together a young, expert team who are, with the lightest of touches, putting Blue Haven on the map.

Blue Haven's three dining areas are the bar restaurant, the cafe, and 'blu' for white-linen dining, but with an informal, never stuffy ambience (expressed by the lower-case first letter of its name). The congenial aura is fostered by Head Chef Hugh Bailey, who earned his chops at Jury's in Cork, moved to major hotel restaurants in London, before taking on Australia at the Sydney Opera House restaurant. And he's brought back some of that country's relaxed style and innovative cooking. Talking with him about the menus he's developed, he buys fresh and buys local daily, pushes the envelope with flavor combinations while honoring Ireland's culinary heritage. So, for dinner Amy and I raided the menus of the bar and 'blu', having a small (HAH!) fish and chips for starters. Amy went with a steak sandwich for entree, but I followed Hugh's recommendation for turbot served with a red wine, meat glaze reduction. Turbot is a rare item, but one of the sturdiest of white fish. It was succulently steamed, and the reduction—dark and rich like an aged balsamic—brought out the fish's fine flavor. This is one dish I did photograph.

That night, as we staggered off to our rooms we looked at each other in amazement. "I'm so full!".
"I know," said Amy. "But we just picked!"

And live to fight another day.