Getting there and settling in...

It is a really nice day in West Cork and since this is such a rare occurrence I figure it’s as good a time to start my blog as any.  It is Sunday, currently around noon. My computer tells me it is September 7th and I will believe it since I have been very confused about the days since I arrived.  

In this blog I plan to share “loads” of pictures, recipes, and food related tidbits that I pick up along the way. But I don’t start work at Ballymaloe Cookery School until tomorrow, so let me rewind and tell some of the highlights of my first few days in this beautiful country.

I spent the first two days at Terre Madre Ireland which was a conference focusing on local food. I will write more on Slow Food and how this emphasis on fresh, local food is affecting my point of view.  But first, here is a lengthy monologue about my arrival (sorry, I get carried away) as well as an introduction to my housemates and description of two great moments I’ve had during my first few days in this country.

The Arrival

We had been driving for about five minutes so I could catch a bus from Ithaca to JFK when I realized that I was feeling pretty nauseous.  When I informed my mom of the impending nausea she told me not to worry, I was just nervous.  Well unfortunately this nausea followed me for NUMBER miles and when I arrived at Ballymaloe’s door just in time for lunch, all I could do was ask for a bed and bury myself in the covers for about six hours. I emerged in time to meet my housemates, take a shower to rid myself of airport grime, eat some orzo with delicious tomato sauce and strawberry crumble that was left over from lunch, and unpack.  I then dived back in bed and had a great night sleep.

Traveling to Ballymaloe went really well, minus the fact that I could barely hold my head up.  I was absolutely astonished at how nice the Irish are and I feel so proud to have some Irish blood in me.  The plane landed five minutes early at 5:40am Irish time, so it was the very early morning to me.  I had neatly folded the bus schedules in my purse and checked about a dozen times to make sure my passport was still there.  Getting through customs was easy enough and I grabbed my mass amounts of luggage and made a beeline for the coffee cart. I figured it was only appropriate that I order an Irish Tea and two and a half Euros later, I was fogging up my glasses with the first of many cups of tea that I am sure I’ll enjoy these next few months seeing as I’ve become an addict. I soon realized there were no lids that fit properly onto my paper cup and the luggage cart I’d hastily grabbed had a bum wheel. I was far too nauseous to rectify the situation and my bus was slated to come in ten minutes.  So I used one hand and one hip to push the gimp cart that was housing my mountain of belongings while spilling tea all over my hand and down my arm of the other.

My luggage promptly fell off the gimp cart and a nice Irish man hefted it back on and told me, “good luck, it isn’t a very nice day out there.”  I finally lifted my head enough to look out the window and realized that he was certainly right and rain was coming down in sheets.  I pulled my raincoat out of my suitcase and gratefully put it on… happy I bought the longest one I could find.  Conveniently, I had to walk (and by walk, I mean spill tea on myself which nudging along the gimp cart) quite far in the nasty rain to the bus stop. I made it in one piece to the bus stop but was soaked through seeing as my hands were too full to hold my umbrella and it was so windy my hood wouldn’t stay on. The picture below was taken while I dripped dry and waited for the bus. 

The bus pulled up right on time and I threw my luggage underneath and passed out for a while. I needed to switch buses in Limerick and at one point I woke with a start and asked the woman behind me where we were. She told me (I forget where…not Limerick though!) and then asked if I had had a nice sleep. I closed my eyes again and a moment later we were in Limerick and in my groggy and nauseated state I just hopped out at the first bus stop.  As soon as the bus pulled away I realized I was in front of a department store and surely not where I wanted to be. A nice young woman pointed me to a line of taxis, patiently waiting for confused and rained on tourists like me! The taxi driver and I had a great talk and five minutes later he was putting my luggage on the correct bus and I was begrudgingly handing him seven and half Euros. Ouch.  This whole event made me realize two things: the Irish are the friendliest people I ever met and taxis are really expensive.

I successfully made it to Cork and then on to Midleton. Midleton is the closest real town to Shanagarry, which is where Ballymaloe is. I was instructed to call the school with the time I’d be in Midleton so they could arrange a taxi for me. I did so and then got to the Midleton bus stop right on time to be picked up. It was raining like crazy and I was exhausted, so I hoped the taxi would come right away. But instead I just waited, and waited. Finally a half hour had gone by and I was soaked so I called again and the nice lady said she would send one right away. In the meantime, a grandfatherly looking man with a large umbrella walked towards me and I felt so relieved because I figured he was driving. Instead, he just stopped in the rain to talk to me about Pennsylvania and Irish weather. It was such a nice conversation and at the end of it, he said he knew I would have a great time here. Well, I think he is right considering how nice and welcoming the people are.  

My Housemates

There is an interesting cast of characters that I would like to introduce you to. These people will no doubt be mentioned again and again so read on.

Michala: Her real name is Michal and she is a 27-year-old Israeli citizen. My former roommate (relocated because she needs peace and quiet to work on a thesis) is currently obtaining a Master’s from the University of Gastronomy in Italy. She started Israel’s first ever farmer’s market, was the young woman on Israel’s version of The View, and is the daughter of a food writer and famous actor.

Ali: Originally from western Canada, Ali now lives in France.  She has had some interesting jobs, though I feel referring to them as “gigs” is more fitting.  Most recently, she was entertaining the rich and famous on yachts in the Mediterranean.  Ali is turning 34 soon, but looks 10 years younger. She took the 12-week course and has been working at the school since July.

Corrie: Northern Canada is her home, but Corrie has spent several months working at the school as well as completed the 12-week course. She went to business school and then lectured on marketing related topics for a year and a half.  She is a hard worker and always one step ahead. She is 24 years old and makes really good scones.

2 Days in Ireland and I’ve Already Seen the President

Yup. It’s true. Twenty years of living in America without so much as a glimpse of our national leader, but two days in Ireland and I was among the Irish people standing to welcome President Mary McAleese and then leaning over to the man next to me to make sure I wasn’t confused.  Turns out she was a former student of Darina Allen and she spoke about the importance of eating locally and supporting Irish agriculture.  She even speculated about how good it would be for America if they planted a garden and built a chicken coop at the White House. I wish I could remember exactly what she said because it was hilarious and I actually agreed with her 100%.

“May I please have a pint of Heineken?”
“Sure, here you are.”
“Wait… REALLY?”

I am excited to report that I had my first legal drink of alcohol. I wasn’t feeling up to a pint of Guinness so instead I proudly sipped a pint of Heineken.