Last weekend, the meat booth at our farmer’s market was selling corned beef. They had a sign to tell us that it was Special! and everything.
The David thinks this is a good thing and stops to get one, but they’ve run out.
The next day, in the ferry building, we stop at the butcher there, but they’ve only got humongo slabs of corned beef and don’t want to cut them into smaller slabs. So we skip it.
Later, we’re planning out our meals for the week and we’ve got everything we need for corned beef and cabbage on our shopping list. At Whole Foods, we successfully acquire a 2 pound non-humongo slab of corned beef. Hurrah!
So, later this week, I’m discussing with David how we’ll have to plan to have our corned beef on Thursday. It needs 3 hours to cook and that takes a little foresight to incorporate into your week night, because the damn dinner-cooking fairies I ordered off of Amazon got waylaid in customs or something.
The conversation goes something like this:
Me: “I think I’ll try to put the corned beef on to cook on Wednesday night and then start on regular dinner.”
David: “Ok. How come on Wednesday night?”
Me: “Because then we can have it ready for Thursday.”
David: “What’s on Thursday?”
Me: “Saint Patrick’s Day?”
Me: “Saint Patrick’s Day and corned beef and cabbage.”
David: “Is that a thing?”
Me: “Uh. Yeah.” Obviously.
David. “It’s an Irish thing?”
Me: “Yes! That’s what you eat on Saint Patrick’s Day!”
I realize that David wasn’t wanting to get corned beef for any special occasion, but just because we’ve been seeing signs for it and mention of it everywhere. And it’s becoming clear to me that David, as a British person, is woefully uneducated on what it means to be Irish*, a topic we Americans pursue with passion.
*Apparently, corned beef and cabbage is not Irish at all. The Irish may have prepared something sort of similar combining back bacon (not streaky like the kind Americans eat) with cabbage. But the “traditional” corned beef and cabbage dish is not Irish.