Corned beef…cabbage…boiled potatoes…warm beer. No wonder so many of the Irish emigrated to America. Those who remained on the “auld sod” apparently figured that if you’ve survived a potato famine, you can’t be too picky.
Once potatoes started growing again, the Irish combined them with flour and milk, then deep-fried the patties. Mmmm. Yes, quite...filling. This dish is called “boxty,” and according to an old Irish saying:
Boxty on the griddle, boxty on the pan.
If you can't make boxty, you'll never get your man.
And then there’s the American version for St. Patrick’s Day:
I wasn’t Irish there, and I’m not Irish here,
But I’ll pretend I’m Irish if you’re serving up green beer.
May the road rise to meet you, and may you always be several miles from me if you start breaking wind.
Once potatoes started growing again, the Irish combined them with flour and milk, then deep-fried the patties. Mmmm. Yes, quite...filling. This dish is called “boxty,” and according to an old Irish saying:
Boxty on the griddle, boxty on the pan.
If you can't make boxty, you'll never get your man.
And then there’s the American version for St. Patrick’s Day:
I wasn’t Irish there, and I’m not Irish here,
But I’ll pretend I’m Irish if you’re serving up green beer.
May the road rise to meet you, and may you always be several miles from me if you start breaking wind.