The rock of Cashel is legend to be the bite of rock that the devil too out of the Slieve Bloom Mountains and then spit down in Cashel, Tipperary. No matter that Slieve Bloom is comprised of sandstone and the rock of Cashel, limestone. Details, shmetails. It was a nasty day so we were not in for hiking. Instead we went into a shop that was having sales on pocketbooks and giving away free chocolate at the door, where my interest peaked and dropped. I happily waited on the long line with my sweets while my aunt shopped. We then headed downstairs of the Cashel castle to The Guinness Bar.
It is apparently odd for girls to drink Guinness. Every time we go out someone asks if I really like Guinness. I do. I called it “delicious” and the gentleman who asked what I thought of the taste burst out laughing. “Gorgeous"?” no, “unreal.” I started the trip with Smithwicks, which also people assumed I ordered by mistake, especially when I’m drinking it out of a pint glass instead of a girly glass. I haven’t noticed that girls do not drink out of pints, I’ve only been told it’s peculiar. I got sick of Smithwicks after the first week or so and have not looked back on the Guinness, save the few times my cousins order me something else. In Dublin D handed me a drink and said “this will blow the head off you,” which I remember, but I didn’t take seriously and really should have taken seriously. Last Saturday serving behind the bar, the other pretend tenders kept making frog hoppers or something green and sour and rough. After all that I refuse to stray from Guinness. The same man who was taken back by my delicious description of Guinness commented on my yellow nail polish saying “we don’t have girls like you here,” you mean crass and fashionably clueless? Oh, I’m sure they’re around somewhere.
The pub was so warm and cozy we decided to stay for a bite.
Beside the fire
Again tempted by a “handcrafted” cheeseburger, but I went with the Deep Fried Brie, Rocket Salad with Raspberry vinaigrette. Where has deep fried brie been all my life? It was amazing. Crispy and warm outside that wasn’t too thick or overly fried, cheese oozing out of it. The mustard vinaigrette on the rocket leaves with scallions and the fresh parsley were all lovely.
Aunt P got a thai fish cake with chili sauce and a glass of vino
And if you offer dessert, I’m going to order dessert. I was between the hazelnut chocolate brownie and the deep apple pie. AP made the case that a brownie was too American so I went with the apple pie and am only realizing now that isn’t there nothing more American than a fucking apple pie? But it was warm and not too sweet, served with warm custard in that ramekin. They loves them some custard here.
And every day needs to be filled with fun exciting things to keep my mind off the fact that I am not traveling this week. Grrrrrrrumble. This’ll go down as one of my biggest regrets ever. One that I need to suck up and get over. So, let’s go, fun! I’m counting on you! Tomorrow we are going to a bday party in T’more. And I am not required to wear a dress. Woot. Woot.