Eric Finds

1 recipe for a traditional Irish dish; recipe may not include any ingredients not available in rural settings:

Cockle Soup

Salted water for cooking
4 dozen cockles or mussles
2 heaping tablespoons butter
2 heaping tablespoons flour
4 cups cockle stock
2 cups whole milk or cream
2 cups chopped parsley or seaweed
½ cup chopped celery
Salt and pepper to taste
Cream

Scrub the cockles well to clean off sand and grit. Put them into a large saucepan; cover with salted water. Bring water to a boil; all cockles should open. Do not continue cooking. Remove cockles to cool, reserving liquid. Remove cockles from shells. Melt the butter in a saucepan, and stir in the flour. Add the strained cockle juice and milk, stirring all the time until it is smoothly blended. Put in the chopped parsley, celery, and seasoning. Cook for 10 minutes. Finally, add the cockles, heat, and serve with a dollop of cream on each portion.

1 song in English which makes specific reference to a specific place (town, village, parish, or geological formation) in Ireland:

Molly Malone
(Traditional)

In Dublin's fair city,Where girls are so pretty,I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone,As she pushed her wheelbarrowThrough streets broad and narrow,Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive oh"!
Alive, alive oh! alive, alive oh!Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive oh"!
Now she was a fishmonger,And sure ‘twas no wonder,For so were her mother and father before,And they each wheeled their barrow,Through streets broad and narrow,Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive oh"!
Alive, alive oh! alive, alive oh!Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive oh"!

She died of a fever,And no one could save her,And that was the end of sweet Molly Malone.Now her ghost wheels her barrow,Through streets broad and narrow,Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive oh"!
Alive, alive oh! alive, alive oh!Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive oh"!

1 song in Irish with English translation:

Bean Phaidin
(traditional)

'S é'n trua ghéar nach mise, nach mise
'S é'n trua ghéar nach mise bean Pháidín
'S é'n trua ghéar nach mise, nach mise
'S an bhean atá aige bheith caillte

Rachainn go haonach an Chlocháin
Is siar go Béal Á' na Báighe
Bhreathnóinn isteach tríd an bhfuinneog
A' súil is go bhfeicfinn bean Pháidín

Chuaigh mise siar Toin a Roisin
Thart timpeall le Barr a’t Sailin,
‘gus bhreathnaigh me isteach frid na fuinneogai
Feachaint an bhfeiceann bean Phaidin

Rachainn go Gallaí' go Gallaí'
Is rachainn go Gallaí' le Pháidín
Rachainn go Gallaí' go Gallaí'
Is thiocfainn abhaile sa mbád leis

Go mbristear do chosa, do chosa
Go mbristear do chosa 'bean Pháidín
Go mbristear do chosa, do chosa
Go mbristear do chosa 's do chnámha

Translation:

The Woman of Paidin.

Oh, ‘tis pity that I am not, that I am not,
That I am not the woman of Paidin.
‘Tis pity that I am not his woman,
The woman he has, gone from him.

Oh, I went down by the shingles
And round by Beal Ath na Boige.
Looking in through people’s windows,
To search out the woman of Paidin.

And I went down Toin a’Roisin,
And back up by Barr a’t Sailin,
And called in to Matthew O’Casey’s
To search out the woman of Paidin.

Oh, I’d go to Galway, to Galway,
To Galway I’d travel with Paidin.
Oh, I’d go to Galway, to Galway,
To be in his boat with him returning.

I wish that your legs they were broken,
A curse on you, woman of Paidin.
I wish that your legs they were broken,
Your legs and your bones to be broken.

3 images of different Irish traditional foods:

(from right to left)
1: Irish Tea Brack
2: Stinging Nettle Soup
3: Traditional Irish Black Pudding