St Patrick’s Day came and went, like every year. A day I used to look forward to, especially when I still lived in Brittany, filling my dreams to be with Celtic romanticism, a session of music in the “Glasgow Pub” on Verdun Avenue, around a pint of Coreff beer from Morlaix… We did craft beers before it was cool. But the Irish National Day is now an event I tend to shy away from, not in a bad way, it is simply a case of “been there, done that and got the kiss-me-I am- Irish T-shirt”. From Sligo, under the “Free our political prisoners” banner, to Galway and the colourful and pride of the the city of tribes “Macnas”, street performers and their inimitable drum rhythms, to the Dublin parade followed by a few quiet pints before night sets… Yes, done all that, and the memory I have kept from them all apart from my Armorican “joie de vivre”, is that it seems to be always “bleeding cold!” …
Month: March 2018
Frozen Blood Orange Creamy Sorbet
Well, it didn’t fail to come, to the joy of small and big kids ( like me), we got a full week full of snow. Not that little fluffy dandruff , no, no, I mean knees deep stuff, blizzard and drifts, enough to be marooned in my little cottage, with 12 cats, a dog and plenty of food and water. This Breton takes no chances; I knew what was coming and “be careful what you are wishing for” kept on ringing in my head… My, my, this was a first for me, full of drama and wasn’t it just beautiful?