A nod to the Irish...
I get to be lazy this post- the following content was written by my mother.
Fields of Sorrow, by Cassandra Liberty West
In 1846, a blight on food crops which had begun in Europe appeared on the Irish potato crops as a sickening, brackish, black crud, laying waste to the dreams of thousands. Anyone brave enough or desperate enough to try and eat the potatoes quickly sickened with Cholera or Typhus.
With no money to pay their landlords, people were turned out of their already pitiful little homes, and they crowded the churches, begging for help. The Catholic priests put all their resources into feeding as many people as they could- using money they would have used for coffins for the many dead, because the living were the most important, but even they could no longer sustain the masses of suffering people.
Some of the pathetic wanderers tried to eat shellfish they gleaned from the coast, but they were too weak from starvation to even cook them, and they died from the very food they had hoped would save them.
America sent food for the people, but it was deliberately held up by the British, while some in Parliament ‘debated’ whether to give it to the starving masses or use it for their own advantage.
Thus, while the British haggled over what should have been an obviously decent and moral decision, more and more people fell by the wayside- men, women, children and babes at the breast- collapsing in unspeakable suffering while their cries for mercy were left unanswered.
Many people who still had the strength or the determination or the money to leave, left their beloved land and came to America. They met with hardship and resentment there also- but eventually, their creativity, their intelligence and their usefulness became embraced and appreciated.
Even today, there are some who say that if you pass by the lonely stretches of blue green grass rippling in the breeze, and if you are alone and willing to listen, you can still hear the screams of the dying, the moaning of the poor, desperate, precious souls, still pleading for a little mercy. The land itself seems to cry.
On a lighter note, also by my mother-
Irish Diet In Ancient Times
People in Ireland began raising livestock about 5,000 years ago. This was made possible by tribes banding together to protect each other, thereby enabling them to farm and tend to their flocks. They were also able to preserve meat and they learned to stock up on grain.
This led to different methods of cooking, for boiling was very rarely used at the time. They built troughs and placed hot stones in water to cook meat, which lead to soups, and the discovery that hot water mixed with certain grains, such as oats could produce a fine meal.
Celtic (Brehon) law stipulated that families live in compounds together on top of hills or on lakes called ‘crannogs’ for protection.
They made bread with Oats, Barley, Rye and Wheat, with the latter two being used mainly by the poor. Oats were used in porridge, just as today, and Barley was used to thicken soups. Barley was very nutritious and those two grains were beneficial in many ways. Cakes were made with honey, eggs and fine wheat flour. Oddly enough, they ate very few vegetables or fruits, most of them being what they could gather, such as onions, leeks, sorrel, watercress, berries, and the like.
Most meals were from a common bowl, but sometimes, people would use their own wooden bowls and cups, with spoons carved from wood.
They made a corn liquor which they flavored with honey, herbs and spices… and made a more refined drink from honey, called Mead, which was used for special occasions. Milk was more important to the Irish diet than many other nations. They used it as a drink, in cheeses, in a dessert made with seaweed and honey and to dampen hardened oat cakes or bread.
It was still a precarious life though. If one crop failed, it meant disaster for many, because most families were very large. That’s why so many people were driven off their lands during the Potato Famine and why even today, food is very appreciated and revered in Ireland.
There is still and attitude that feeding a guest is the height of honor… and that food should be enjoyed, for it may not always be there.
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