I was happy to hear that Irish chefs are headed our way. Starting next Wednesday, a contingent of four Northern Ireland chefs will be cooking on the National Mall in Washington as part of the Smithsonian Folklife Festival. A makeshift pub will be set up to dispense food and drink.
Until recently, this was not news that would excite me. I thought I knew Irish food. My grandmother was born in County Kerry and lived with us until I was a teenager. Every St. Patrick's Day, our house would fill with celebrants, many of them monsignors. There would be music, song and stories. But the food? Well, it was much like the fare I found on my first visit to Ireland 24 years ago - cooked to within an inch of its life and a bit bland.
However, two recent trips improved my opinion of Irish food. One was a journey to Dublin in April. It was a business trip for my wife and a pleasure trip for me. I ate and drank well. Lots of pub fare, good beer, fresh ingredients and storied history.
Dublin struck me as a spirited city, its economy fired up by its membership in the European Union. Now, judging by letters to the editor of the Dublin newspapers, the worries are inflation and sprawl. Dublin is also a pricey place. A glass - not a pint - of stout cost the equivalent of $4. That, as the Irish say, is "dear."
My second journey was a jaunt to Northern Virginia. One spring night, I made my way to Restaurant Eve in Alexandria, where a cadre of visiting chefs from Northern Ireland prepared a variety of dishes showing off their native cuisine.
Northern Ireland is a separate political entity from the Republic of Ireland. It, too, is a member of the European Union, and while it has not prospered as quickly as the Republic, it seems to be catching up quickly, especially since "the troubles" between Protestants and Catholics have quieted.
My first taste of Northern Ireland fare was a slice of delicately smoked salmon topped with an artful mixture of whole-grain mustard and horseradish cream. This was salmon from waters near Donegal Bay, and that meant, I was told, it was not as oily as fish from other waters. Next came a leek-and-potato soup topped with buttermilk froth, a dish that was both light on the tongue and rich on flavor. This was much different from the Irish fare I grew up eating.
The entree, seared loin of lamb, was accompanied by an adroit blend of cabbage and bacon, and a serving of "champ," a potato dish that has many names and many ingredients.
