Irish

Good Morning -

We spent most of the last month eating out in some form or another. If we weren't eating deli sandwiches with plastic ware while surrounded by boxes that needed to be packed, we were sitting in a local restaurant because we couldn't stand being around the boxes that needed to be unpacked anymore and wanted to use a fork made out of metal.

While we both love a good restaurant, we also both love to cook, so this eating out has gotten tiring - in the "too much of a good thing" kind of way. Since we're (mostly) unpacked now, we've tried hard this week to make dinner here each night, which then provides lunch for the next day.

Last night the plan was to meet at home and then head across to Safeway to get some pasta sauce enhancers and other ingredients needed for our supper.

We found some good Boulder sausage to add to the sauce, and various other ingredients for meals later in the week.

When I'm in the right mood, I love the grocery store. I love wandering the aisles, looking at all of the tools one could use to make myriad dishes.

When I'm not in the right mood, I wander with a deep furrow to my brow, scowling at the jacked-up prices, the fuel used to bring the tropical bananas to Denver, the conditions of the packing house where the "natural", "local" (read: California) pork loin was processed by people paid way too little for work that is so taxing, and the political lobbying that has created space for broad definitions such as "cage free" meaning that the thousands of hens in the hot, hot house have a small doggie door on the far wall that if they can get to it and have the will power left to even dream of sunlight can use to access the outside. (I will resent buying eggs until the day soon, soon enough when I have my own chickens).

I was headed to this dark place yesterday when I turned a corner in produce and saw one of the best movies ever on the end cap display of Things That Have Nothing To Do with Groceries But Are Sold at the Grocery Anyway. Bonus was that it was only $9.99, so into the cart it went.

And what movie has the power to lift me out of the dark abyss of food politics? The Secret of Roan Inish does.

Oh, oh, oh - it's the best movie ever. I discovered it with my sisters years ago as a rental and, while I've owned the soundtrack since then (such beautiful, haunting music), I've never owned the film - until now.

There's mysticism, redemption, healing, teamwork, paganism, and lessons in the impact of war, colonizing, and economics - all done in rich Irish accents that make me want to pull on a wool sweater and make some good strong black tea with cream and sugar.

Bonus is that if I was ever stranded on a random Irish island with dilapidated housing, I would know how to repair the thatching, reseal the rocks, clean the rust out of pots with sand, and fish for my dinner with a string and a bone.

It's such a good movie. If you haven't seen it, you now know why you've had that vague empty feeling in your heart all these years.

The seals on the Virgen are a tribute to the movie. If that doesn't make sense, then it sounds like you need to rent it so you can understand.

Seriously.

Here's to good movies. Here's to surprises in the grocery that pull you out of the darkness. Here's to tea. Here's to wool sweaters. Here's to good stories.