Sunday, September 9, 2007

trip part 9: the irish bbq

No, it wasn't a BBQ where the Irish were eaten, or even Irish food. Instead, it was grilled chicken, hamburgers, roasted blue potatoes, roasted carrots and onions and squash, roasted corn on the cob in their husks. For appetizers, shrimp cocktail, veggies and dip, pita chips and olive tapenade. Dessert was cake and cookies and fruit with whipped cream. For the most part it was wonderful to look at, and I hear it was very tasty; personally, I can vouch for the blue potatoes because how can you not try a potato that's blue? And also the cookies, though I would have done better to eat just a few bites rather than the whole yummy thing. The stomach still quavered in fear.


The BBQ took place Sunday evening at the bride's parents' home, in honor of family from Ireland who traveled overseas to attend the wedding. We're all taught these days that stereotypes are rude and bad, but is it bad to say the Irish know how to have a good time? Or at least this particular bunch of Irish. They drank the Guinness, stayed out late partying at Saturday night's reception, and convened at a pub Sunday morning to watch a live showing from Ireland of men's field hockey. At the BBQ, there was a fantastic Irish band, and actual song booklets were passed around, thick booklets with all the lyrics of songs that might be sung. Although we couldn't stay late, it seemed a competition with the singing was brewing. As the music started, Bug and her Happy Feet danced their dance, to the accompaniment of some 70 people clapping and laughing at her enthusiasm and lack of inhibition.* Bug is fabulous, I must say. I wish I had been feeling completely myself, I wish I wasn't sick, I wish we could have stayed even later than we did. As it was, I had a great time and was happy to at least attend and participate in this part of the wedding weekend; I don't think I've ever been to a BBQ with such an intensive, never lagging party spirit. And did I mention the dancing?



*"Cale," with an accent over the "e," and pronounced "kay-lee" means, in Gaelic, "to dance." And, the party was also informed, it's not K.Lo's fault her parents spelled it all wrong.

(posted by pen w/ technical assistance from m)

4 comments:

ashley said...

I so want to go to this party! This looks fabulous! I'm glad you got to partake in blue potatoes (which I would've thought would make the stomach quiver over cookies...)

Cue said...

Love, love that about her name. Perfect!!

Anonymous said...

Looks like a fun party!

~sarah said...

that's some great craic! : )

in ireland, "craic" (pronounced "crack") means something to the effect of good food, better alcohol, and best people in town.

the locals like to talk in front of tourists about the great craic they enjoyed last night. you can imagine the responses they get. : ) there are even signs in the dart (train) explaining that craic isn't crack!

ps - just happened to be listening to my chieftains just as i read your blog. sigh. i want to go back...