A wedding and a proposal - My introduction to Ireland
I fell in love with Ireland 20 years ago. It was my first visit, prompted by a wedding in Doolin, County Clare, where my mother-in-law, Mary, grew up.
Doolin is on the west coast of Ireland. The surrounding countryside is a patchwork of green fields spilling down to the sea, divided by rock walls and patrolled by herds of cows, with the Aran Islands off in the distance. The famous Cliffs of Moher are just a few kilometers south. To the north is the Burren, a mountainous region with mile upon mile of bare rock exposed by centuries of erosion. The ancient Celtic people erected Dolmens in the Burren, mysterious stone structures to mark tombs and sacred places. Many of the Dolmens are over 4,000 years old.
My father-in-law — James “Jimmy” Leyne — was born and raised farther south in County Kerry, also on the west coast. There’s a famous Irish song called The Wild Colonial Boy, and Jim Leyne was basically that guy. He left Ireland when he was 16 and had a larger-than-life personality. Not to mention a heart of gold, and a hollow leg. It’s largely because of him that I refer to my Irish family as “The Leyniacs.”
So off we went in 2003 to cousin Fiona’s wedding in Doolin. Sheila and I were dating at the time and I had the idea to propose to her on her native soil. So along with my suitcase I brought a diamond ring which I proceeded to carry in my pocket for two weeks. This was because the private moment I imagined — where I would drop to my knees and pop the question to my bride-to-be — kept not happening, what with Sheila’s family being all together in Ireland, and half the area populated by aunts, uncles, cousins and childhood friends, all looking to meet for tea and scones, or a few pints down at the pub.
To put it mildly, my Irish in-laws like to have fun, and each day leading up to the wedding we had great craic (an Irish expression for a good time). Doolin is known for traditional Irish music, with players from all over the country converging there for seisiúns (sessions). On any given night you can experience live music at every pub in the village, the musicians seated among the patrons, drumming bodhrans, fingering flutes and fiddles, picking banjos and guitars.
My favorite pubs in Doolin for music and pints of Guiness are McGann’s and McDermott’s — stumbling distance from each other. There’s also Gus Oconnor’s and the newer Fitzpatrick’s, which became a popular spot when they opened the Hotel Doolin a few years ago.
The day of the wedding finally arrived (or I should say the weekend of the wedding since they typically hold the ceremony on a Friday night, leaving all day Saturday and Sunday to party). At this point we had been in Ireland for about a week, I was still carrying this diamond ring in my pocket, and I was beginning to think I may never get my chance to propose.
After the wedding, it was time to head to Portmagee, my father-in-law Jimmy Leyne’s birthplace, a quaint little village populated by fishermen and farmers at the very tip of the Iveragh peninsula, better known as the Ring of Kerry. It’s a place of incredible natural beauty and authentic charm, with Valentia Island across the harbor, fishing boats tied up at the pier, and brightly colored buildings lining the waterfront. The tiny village has only two pubs — the Bridge Bar and the Fisherman’s. Until a few years ago, Sheila’s uncle Michael still worked the family farm, living in the old house where he was born.
Portmagee is famous for the Skelligs, two rocky islands a couple of miles offshore. Hundreds of years ago there was a monastery on Skellig Michael where the monks lived, prayed and meditated in “Beehive” huts situated at the very top of the rock. Today, boats from Portmagee do a brisk trade in excursions to Skellig Michael, where you can hike up the old stone steps to see the ruined monastery, take in the panoramic views and watch the colonies of sea birds, including puffins, that nest everywhere. This is a UNESCO World Heritage site and absolutely worth a visit.
One downside — they filmed a scene from Star Wars on Skellig Michael some years ago and the locals have been capitalizing on the international fame ever since. Now when you enter the Bridge Bar there’s a life-size cutout of Darth Vader propped up to greet you. Last time we were there I even spotted a dude strutting down the street all decked out like a Jedi knight. I’m hoping the Star Wars-mania will wear off soon and Portmagee can go back to the sleepy place it once was, and should forever be.
On our very last day in town, the damned diamond ring was burning a hole in my pocket, so I decided to take Sheila to lunch since having a romantic dinner ourselves was basically out of the question. We showed up at the family house to get the car and were greeted by everyone sitting around eating ham sandwiches. “What do you mean you’re going to lunch?” says Jimmy Leyne, “we got some nice ham!”
So we had a sandwich, then spent the afternoon at the Fisherman’s pub playing darts and drinking pints. I was deflated, and reconciled to the idea that my chance to propose to Sheila in Ireland was slipping away.
It was spitting rain outside and night was falling when everyone left the pub to shower and change before dinner. The hotel was down the street to the right but at the last moment I grabbed Sheila by the arm and led her to the left toward a bench by the waterfront. Finally, after two weeks, we had a few minutes by ourselves. She of course had no idea why her drunk boyfriend was leading her off to some godforsaken bench in the rain. But then I produced the ring, slipped it on her finger and mumbled something about wanting to make her happy.
After her initial shock, we strolled up to the family house to share the news with her parents and uncle, but Jimmy was nowhere to be found. We later learned he had stumbled out of the pub and gone for a walk in the fields where he came upon a sheep with it’s head stuck in a fence. I don’t know if that was true or just a tall tale he made up to cover the fact that he had found a bar stool to keep warm somewhere.
Later on, dinner became a celebration with many toasts and welcoming words from my future in-laws. My brother-in-law Paul tracked down Jimmy and escorted him back to the pub where, with tears in his eyes, he gave me a giant bear hug. I think nothing could have pleased him more than Sheila and I getting engaged in his home town.
And I was happy to finally get that ring out of my pocket.
“There’s the kingdom of God and the kingdom of Kerry! ”
“The Bench” in 2022
A few words on Irish food
In addition to breathtaking scenery and great music, Ireland has surprisingly good food. No, that is not a typo. I don’t like to refer to myself as a “foodie,” but I do like to eat well and one of my first surprises on arriving in Ireland was the quality of the cooking. If you think all Irish food is boiled and bland please allow me to disabuse you of such a nutty idea.
Ireland is surrounded by water so naturally the seafood is superb. Some of the best oysters I’ve ever had were from Galway Bay, at a restaurant called Monks in Ballyvaughan, about a half-hour drive from Doolin. Mussels, salmon, crab claws, fish chowder and more can also be found in restaurants and pubs everywhere. Of course, some establishments are better than others — we love the Cornerstone in Lahinch and the Burren Smokehouse where you can buy outstanding smoked salmon and other local products to take home.
Corned beef and cabbage it’s not — but there is something called bacon and cabbage and I urge you to try it. I know it sounds weird but what the Irish call bacon we in America would refer to as ham. This is served in many pubs, usually with a potato on the side. My mouth is watering as I write this….
Speaking of potatoes, the stereotype of Ireland being western civilization’s epicenter of spud consumption is pretty much dead on. I distinctly remember at least two types of potato on my plate at the aforementioned wedding dinner — boiled and mashed — followed by a server asking if you’d like more potatoes with your potatoes. Not kidding.
Being half Greek, I think I know good lamb when I taste it and a great example was a dish of grilled chops I enjoyed a few years ago at the Moorings restaurant in Portmagee. They were perfectly cooked — rosy on the inside and served on a pool of what I think was a red wine reduction sauce.
Like the lamb, which probably grazed in a field somewhere not far from my table, a lot of Irish food is locally sourced and seasonal — from vegetables to meat and seafood. And Irish chefs are using this wealth of ingredients to redefine what food can be in this little corner of the world.
Also in Doolin:
The Clare Jam Shop, just off the main road. Their jams and marmalades are made right on the premises — a little taste of Ireland you can bring home
The Cheesepress, for great coffee, artisinal breads and local products
Russels Seafood Bar at the Fiddle + Bow hotel, for creative cooking in a casual but sophisticated setting
And near Portmagee:
Skelligs Chocolate just over the mountain from Portmagee
Oneill’s The Point Seafood Bar at the ferry dock in Cahersiveen, for incredibly fresh, locally-sourced seafood