Does an Irishman like potatoes?

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Does an Irishman like potatoes?

Does an Irishman like potatoes?

Ah, now, is the Pope Catholic? Every culture has stereotypes.  I find Irish stereotypes seriously flawed and strangely amusing.  For example, I’ve never seen an Irishman dressed as a leprechaun drinking green beer.  However, I’ve been wished “Top ‘o the mornin’” by a Texan dressed as a kilt-wearing leprechaun.  He was actually drinking Guinness, and I think he was trying to find the bottom of the keg.  (My family wishes me to specify that the kilt-wearing man was not related to me.  He was simply a fellow concert goer at the North Texas Irish Festival.  I feel compelled to mention,

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Irish Whiskey Pound Cake

Irish Whiskey Pound Cake

It isn’t St. Patrick’s Day without… This isn’t a recipe from one of our trips to Ireland.  I’ve been making this cake for almost thirty years.  I am not sure where I originally got it, but it predates the internet.  (Yes, I know that makes me old.)  I’ve tweaked and changed it in numerous small ways through the years, but the heart of it remains the same. Although I didn’t find this recipe in Ireland, we did have something similar in Donegal.  We were in Ireland the week of New Years.  It was wonderful!  Christmas decorations were still up and

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Outfitting Your Kitchen: Crazy Day Survival 101

Outfitting Your Kitchen: Crazy Day Survival 101

Ummm…I forgot to put on pants. It was one of those rare ‘stay in your pajamas’ days.  The kids were going to do morning chores, leaving me free to hibernate until afternoon.  I was comfortably ensconced on the couch with a cup of tea, a good book, and fresh muffins.  Then, my phone rang.  It was one simple sentence.  Grace (breathlessly): The sheep are out. Not only were they out, they were ALL out.  They were in the big pasture where our horses graze, including the horse that hates sheep.

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Sausage, Mushroom, and Blue Cheese Grits

Sausage, Mushroom, and Blue Cheese Grits

A Tale from the Shopper Grim(m)! Once upon a time, a very stressed nurse/farmwife/mom was grocery shopping.  She had a list.  She had a plan.  She had, ahem, run out of patience.  There were dragons all through Ye Land of Groceries.  Some dragons charged our heroine as she rounded corners.  Some dragons grouched at our heroine and shouted into their Phones of Cell.  Some dragons were tiny.  They flew through the aisles screeching and knocking things over.  These were the scariest dragons of all.  The nurse/farmwife/mom was considering finding a sword and shield. Just as she was ready to vanquish

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