A Tasty Dream
SHE HAD A GREAT IDEA LAST NIGHT.
We were having dinner, polishing off some leftover roast as “Pork Manhattan.”
For the first fifteen minutes there was complete silence as we stuffed our faces – then my wife, the lovely and entrepreneurially minded, Dawn, unleashed a thunderbolt of an idea.
“Y’know, we ought to open a restaurant here in Ireland that served nothing but Southern American Home Cooking. Pork Manhattans, Chicken and Dumplings, Biscuits and Gravy, Grits – gotta have grits.”
I put down my fork long enough to add, “Sweet Potato Pie.”
“I can just see it now, ‘Aunt Sweetie’s Down Home Cooking’.”
“Hey, Padraig! You ready for a piece of “Pi?”
You and I would say “Pie,” but in Southern vernacular the “e” is silent, sort of just left hanging out there in space – “Pi(e).”
For the next half hour we shouted out the things that would 
fill the menu and the tummies of every Sean and Siobhan on the Emerald Isle – Fried Catfish, Green Bean Casserole, Corn Pudding, Fried Okra, Jell-o Salad, Layered Salad, King Ranch Chicken, Fried 
Chicken (of course!), Real Homemade Macaroni and Cheese, and, of course, Iced Tea.
Hunting for an Irish restaurant that serves iced tea? Give up and go look for something easy like the Ark of the Covenant.
After driving ourselves crazy thinking about all of these wonderful foods, even though we had just finished shoveling down a big meal, we came to a culinary realization – the menu at “Aunt Sweetie’s Down Home Cooking” is almost completely composed of “Church Lady Food” – and there ain’t nothing better than Church Lady Food.
Can I have a witness!
If we were to set up “Aunt Sweetie’s Down Home Cooking” in the heart of Dublin it would be revolutionary. The local “Foodies” would show up out of curiosity and never want to leave once they 
had their first taste of “Grandmother Curlee’s Chicken and Dumplings. Of course they would have to fight for a table when every American tourist in Ireland comes through the door looking for a generous serving of “Miss Lola’s Banana Pudding.”
St. Patrick himself would have come in for some Biscuits and Gravy on his way to driving the snakes out of Ireland.
To give the restaurant the proper “ambience” some good Country Music would be playing in the background. A little Jerry Jeff Walker, Lyle Lovett, and maybe some Willie or Merle. On Sunday, however, we would switch to Gospel Music. And the Good Reverend might stand and preach if she feels the call. It would only be right.
I know that there have been restaurants offering “Tex-Mex” cuisine in Ireland, but “Aunt Sweetie’s” would be different. This would be a place where you would be made to feel like a 
member of the family who has just been away too long. You would be welcomed home and fed a supper filled with love. And maybe a big slice of the best Peach Pie you’ve ever had pass your lips.
“You want some ice cream with that, Sweetie?”
Perhaps, someday if you find yourself in Dublin, you too can come home to
“Aunt Sweetie’s Down Home Cooking.”
Say Amen somebody!
AaaaMennn!! I’d even find a way to get over there for some of that “Aunt Sweetie’s Down Home Cooking”!!
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Amen! My southern roots and upbringing have me drooling, and my mind whirling at the possibilities. That would mean moving to Ireland. As in moving. Permanently. Sigh! -Jennie-
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I put this together for my 95 year old mother in law – The Lola mentioned in the blog. Moving to Ireland is not easy. They expect you to be able to support yourself and have verification of Irish ancestry if you intend on becoming a citizen. As far as I’m concerned, it’s just too cold. I like things warm. But the food is good.
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