Table: Dinning room
Sky: Cloudy
Music: Gotan Project
The first post is always the hardest. The post that will keep them coming back for more...or not.
Just to clarify, this is not a chicken and waffles scenario. I do not plan to find the perfect pint to go with my pancakes nor do I hope to find pancakes prepared with pilsner. It just so happens that I live in Dublin (where many a pints are consumed) and I recently ate the best pancakes of my life (more about those later). Bam! A blog is born.
So what does that say about me...
I like food. A lot. In fact, I am going to go make breakfast right now before continuing this entry. brb.
Ok. That's better. Now to bring you all up to snuff.
For the past two years my lovely fiancé, Níall (pronounced Neil, not nye-all) and I lived in the one of the most beautiful places in the world where we skied, biked, floated, ate, drank and played with our now lifelong friends. We made the decision to move to Ireland because life is short and why not do it while you can. Níall was born in Dublin, where he spent half of his childhood terrorising the Wicklow countryside and the other half basking in Miami sun. So, lucky for us we have a huge local support from a welcoming Frisby family during our transition here.
Níall will be attending grad school in the fall. I am on the job hunt. And we just moved into a beautiful Japanese style home. But, more on all that later. Right now all I can think about is our blinking yellow trafic light town back in Teton Valley with our weekend night decision between the burger place or the thai restaurant. Ha, small town folk moving to the big city. Well I should say, big city then big town then small village folk moving back to the city. There is SO much food here! And good food too.
So far we have enjoyed many-a café, pubs and restaurants, but for now you'll simply hear about my homemade RLT sitting in front of me. Note: Bacon = Ham, Rashers = Breakfast bacon, Streaky Bacon = American Bacon. The veg is fresh and flavourful, not having traveled far to get here. The tomatoes actually taste like tomatoes, the snozberries taste like snozberries Same with the eggs and dairy products. The eggs are not in the refrigerated section and the butter is divine. The meat you pick up at your local butcher around the corner, David Nolan. The first three reasons I have for anyone to move to Ireland: the butter, the chocolate and the tea.
It just so happens that my favourite thing to drink with a BLT is English Breakfast tea, of which there is plenty here. As my soon-to-be-mother-in-law told me, no matter where you go in Ireland, whether it be a petrol station or pub, you can always find deliciously rich hot tea. I like my tea milky and sweet when I am eating savoury, yet I omit the teaspoon of sugar when I have tasty biscuits to dip. Oh, biscuits = cookies, for the most part.
Why am I writing this blog you may ask? You mean besides the fact that I like listening to myself talk? Two reasons really. One, to stay sane. They tell me the weather sucks here. More days without the sun than with. Wet. Cold. So in addition to my other winter blue beaters, drinking Guinness and running (not at the same time), I intend to write. To write, and eat, and take photos.
Reason two, because I think my family and friends back home might be interested in what an expat is doing eight hours into the future across the pond. I hope I am not wrong on that one.
So bare with me as I learn the ways of the blogging world. Send me feedback. Ask me questions. Please.
Grammie... I welcome the inevitable grammar corrections you may have for me. Someone needs to keep me legit.
Oh, and Mom... Happy (Irish) Mother's Day today! I moved to Ireland so I can officially honour you two days out of the year rather than just one. Silver lining.
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