Cork and the English Market

You know you’re a food geek when you’re willing to wake up at 8 in the morning after a night of beer, cider and more beer to visit the English Market in Cork. Which is what I did… so I guess that makes me a food geek.

We had arrived in Cork the night before after a long drive from Dublin–a drive that, I’m proud to say, we all survived with only slight amounts of emotional trauma, even if I was driving on the left side of the road. That being said, we were all quite tired when we arrived, and so it was completely understandable that my geeky desire to visit the market would be braved alone. The rest of my friends still snug in their beds in our hostel, I grabbed my bag and my camera and marched across the river to peruse the market stalls, selling everything from bread pudding to Irish cheddar.

There were Irish potatoes, piled high with the dirt still clinging to them. There were cuts of Irish beef and chicken sitting in butcher counters, and something called “best ground,” which I believe would make an absolutely stellar hamburger. There were scones and sodabread and all sorts of muffins and cakes that made my mouth water, but what I really wanted was some of that produce, maybe some of the fresh-caught fish and, of course, a mound of Irish potatoes to take home with me so that I could conjure up some sort of amazing, typical Irish meal. With sodabread, of course.

If that doesn’t make me a food geek, I don’t know what does.

After wandering all the stalls for an hour and snapping pictures surreptitiously as frequently as I could without startling the sellers, I walked upstairs to where there is a small café, bought a coffee, and watched from above. One of the women working at one of the butcher counters tied knots in a filet roast expertly, the string moving in a perfect pattern. A woman selected a couple of tomatoes and paid for her purchase, carrying on her way.

I know that I have similar markets to visit at home, but there’s something about markets in other countries that makes me want to be more than a voyeur, more than a tourist. I want my own kitchen, my own cache of family recipes for Irish stew and colcannon. I could blame it on the fact that we’ve been subsiding off sandwiches for several days, but I know myself too well.

I’m a food geek… and I’m proud.

Cork English Market
Princess Street, Cork