Guinness for Breakfast

Guinness for breakfast.

I took a vacation this last week. That's something most chefs don't do nearly enough. I'm not a skier and if I sit on a beach, I turn red as a newly painted fire hydrant. So, what do I do on vacation? I visit new cities with my wife and we sample the local grub. This week we went to San Francisco, (what a beautiful city!)

We arrived late at night, so our first adventure came at 8 am, when we discovered that across the street from our hotel was The Fiddler's Green, an Irish Pub, which, in the next few days, became the headquarters where we would meet our friends and plan where we would eat or drink next. After all, I didn't fly 2400 miles to sit in a Holliday Inn.

Over the next few days, I saw several people eating the Irish Breakfast. I looked on in curiosity, but decided until our last day to order it. Always looking forward to a day of sampling the cuisine of another culture, I didnt want to fill up. And just looking at this Caithréim Mhór almost did that.

So, comes our last day, and as James Joyce might describe it ,"climbing heaven and gazing on the earth" for a soul with the ability of simple joys.

We started with a Bloody Mary, which the bartenders had boasted about and I couldn't pass up. It had olives and limes in it, (this must be a west coast thing). The Irish Breakfast was two eggs. A few people I noticed previously had them hard boiled. (Strange, but I was in a strange place). The Irish Bacon was tender and mild. It reminded me of a piece of what we east coasters call "fresh ham". The Irish Sausage was delicate with a thin casing, resembling the soft brogue of our bartender, Mary. The puddings, one black and one white were light and crispy, centers filled with barley, and possibly seasoned with mint. As I finished, I raised my glass and read to myself a bumper sticker that was stuck to the mirror behind the bar, "pog mo thoin". When I returned home, I had to google this phrase, but now it seems fitting that I was drinking Guinness for breakfast.