Ya gotta sleep, ya also gotta eat. Despite what you’ve been told, food in Ireland isn’t all about potatoes.
What you see above you is the legendary soup of Beanies.
This stuff has been eluding my grasp for weeks now. Some time ago a co-worker told me about Beanie’s soup,
“It’s the best ever,” she assured me, “I used to have it for lunch every day last year.
High praise indeed. Supposedly, the recipe is a family secret and the stuff is prepared fresh every morning from this secret recipe. The long lines outside of Beanies do lend some authenticity to this rumour.
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For dinner in Cork, we went to the much-talked-about Wagamama restaurant.
Through a full-length glass storefront, Wagamama is a vaguely Japanese-style restaurant furnished with long tables and benches (instead of individual tables) and characterised mostly by their huge bowls of brothy noodle dishes. The place reminded me of Long Life Noodle Company in San Francisco. Wagamama’s slogan is “positive eating + positive living” and their entrees are comprised of mostly simple ingredients, identifiable from a glance.
The menu is even more Japanese than the decor. Most items on the menu are some kind of noodle dish, be it served in a bowl or on a plate.
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Yayyy! They have chairs for babies!!
After a couple of awkward experiences in Cork dining with the munchkin, we decided to hedge our bets and seek out a place that was distinctly child-friendly.
We had heard that a local restaurant called “The Shack” was family owned and so we surmised they probably would have facilities for children. The interior of The Shack Restaurant was quirky, with crudely carved wooden walls and doors and even two outdoor electrical poles with wires strung across from each other near the entrance. The high-backed enclosed bench we were sat at was a bit small for two adults on one side of the table, but the other side (and most of the other tables) were equipped with regular chairs. We could have moved, but seeing as I was the one being squeezed next to the wifey I didn’t mind too much. To our relief, they had a child seat and the munchkin was happily situated for devouring whatever bits of food got within her reach.
The dishes were all around the €13 range and filling.
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I’m always being asked if I miss the states. One of the things I miss the most is Mexican food. Imagine our relief (and mild trepidation) upon discovering Cafe Mexicana.
The restaurant is tucked away down on of Cork’s scenic alleyways. As we approached, I was amused to see an reclining mariachi sitting at the table out front in full mariachi garb.
“Buenas tardes,” I ventured. He lifted a surprised expression at me, eyes widening slightly as he noted the giggling munchkin strapped to my chest.
“Buenas tardes.”
I gestured up at the sign. “Comida Mexicana?” A grin spread across his face,
“Si!”
“Ora le.”
I heard him chuckling to himself as I headed inside.
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