Culinary Daughter

The north sea whispers against the harbor sea walls. Its rhythmic cadence a story teller of ages past. The tide pulls back revealing the rocky shore and leaving the harbor boats high, Eowyn steps onto the worn cobble stones, the scent of salt and sea adventure thick in the air.

“You hear that?” she asks,pausing near the edge of the harbor.

“the Sea?” I reply, though knowing she means more that the waves.

She nods. “Its speaking. Not in words, but in movement. An old conversation between stone, tide and wind.

We walk to the Marina Hotel where the upstairs restaurant overlooks the water, a quiet haven above the bustle of the harbor below. In the United States, an upstairs restaurant is often short lived. Out of sight, but here it thrives. This is the second successful upstairs restaurant found, both built on the foundations of local favorites, the kind that call to the sea just as the sea calls to them.

Timing is everything in travel, and we wee fortunate enough to find ourselves in Scotland during one of its most cherished celebrations – Burns Night. Every year on January 25th, Scotland honors its national bard, Robert Burns with a feast steeped in poetry, tradition and, of course, a hearty meal. The Slate, celebrating Auntie’s birthday, felt like the perfect place to experience the occasion.

The guests partook of the shrimp salad sandwich, while Burns poem “Address to a Haggis” is the star of the table.

“But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed,
The trembling earth resounds his tread,
Clap in his walie nieve a blade,
He’ll make it whissle;
An’ legs, an’ arms, an’ heads will sned,
Like taps o’ thrissle.

Ye Pow’rs wha mak mankind your care,
And dish them out their bill o’ fare,
Auld Scotland wants nae skinking ware
That jaups in luggies;
But, if ye wish her gratefu’ prayer,
Gie her a Haggis!”

As the haggis came to the table – the only thing missing from the presentation is a piper playing the bagpipes. The Haggis comes table side is steaming and fragrant, rich and earthy. Haggis blend of minced meats, oats and spices wrapped in tradition as much as flavor. Served with “neeps and tatties” (turnips and potato) it is a rustic and satisfying dish that speaks to Scotland’s resilience and pride.

The Bustle of travel and catching connecting flights leaves little time for indulgence. Catching a quick bite on the run is typical for travel. But not today. Touching down in Dublin, the first stop had to be food on the fly food hall. It is a lively hub with window views – the view reminding that we are not in Ireland for the weather..

The star of the visit … The Full Irish Breakfast at the food court Marqette. The picture shows all, crisp Irish bacon, savory sausage, poached eggs and hearty baked beans. The irony is the app on the table did not work with a foreign phone number to set up the account and there is no wait staff. Hmm. Murphy’s Law. I guess that i have a new culinary grail to find. Full cooked breakfast while in Ireland.

Loved the marketing of a premium deep filled sandwich. Not sure what that is but at least it is takeaway.