It all started with spaghetti and meatballs...

One of the most frequent questions I'm asked is, why did you decide to write Feeding the Irishman? Well, it all began with a humble dish of spaghetti and meatballs.  

One evening, driven by a craving, I decided to make spaghetti and meatballs for the Irishman.  Simply mentioning the classic dish infused a smile on his face along with a twinkle of anticipation in his eyes. He expressed one wish, the addition of garlic bread.  Indeed, I replied, crunchy, buttery garlic bread, layered with herbs would be on the menu.  The garlic bread was the perfect complement to the meatballs, a blend of pork and beef simmered in a rich, homemade tomato sauce, and a snow shower of finely grated Parmesan cheese.

While the meatballs simmered on the stove, a favored playlist on the stereo, a robust bottle of red wine opened and Gappolini blissfully engaged in his daily routine at the Easlen Institute of Intuitive Cat Petting, of which the Irishman proudly declared himself the founder.

A few days later I discovered that the spaghetti and meatball dinner did not nourish the Irishman's belly as I had hoped.  I embraced the feedback with an open heart. His remarks, candid as always, were fair, the dish was overly garlicky. It leaned towards the saltier side and he just did not like it.  It did not dampen my spirits. Rather, it sparked a desire to understand the Irishman's palette as well as understand him more as well.  Determined, I tucked away the culinary critiques in the back of my mind, viewing them as valuable insights for the gastronomic journey ahead. I recognize that learning the Irishman's tastes and palette is a wonderful place for me to reignite my culinary bliss.  Cooking for and Feeding the Irishman makes me happy, very happy. 

An unexpected bonus of writing Feeding the Irishman is the late into-the-night conversations with the Irishman as we regal one another with happy and sad stories, memories, music, mischief, experiences, and much much much food.