Bon Appetite

(icanhascheezburger.com could be worth a quick gander...)

Bon Appetite...what our French roommate, Muriel, says to Brianna and I every time we’re cooking aka bangin on pots and pans, setting the smoke alarm off and feasting like we’ve never had a hot meal in our lives (ever since the French got here they are constantly making us look bad with their stylish ways and their "let me just whip up this 6 layer lasagna for 10 people" skills... plus their cool accents). Since we came to Dublin, I have developed a great appreciation for food. All kinds. After a long day of class, shopping, walking or the exhausting process of laundry in this ridiculous facility, any meal we make turns in to a “grand feast,” whether it’s a grilled cheese or a 3 course meal. The essentials: the ever-easy pasta (what would any of us do without it?), eggs, balsamic vinegar (what can’t you put this on and make it taste better?), baguettes (I don’t think I’ll ever know why they taste so much better than regular bread-or is it just because the word is so fun to say?), granola (or what Brianna refers to as bird food… she may or may not have found a trail of this from the kitchen to my room last week), crepes (this is a once a week splurge at the Saturday farmer’s market), hummus (another farmer’s market must-have), CHICKEN (fried chicken, grilled chicken, chicken sandwich, chicken salad, chicken pasta…etc), and McDonalds…

Mickie D’s.

This disgusting cesspool has quickly found a place among my taste buds across international waters. Listen, I don’t know why but I find that armpit of America 10 times more appealing in Dublin than back home. It may have something to do with the fact that it’s American, maybe the fact that it’s literally fast food and I don’t have to cook it, but most likely because the 1 euro apple pies here are fried instead of baked and that makes allll the difference...Last week I yelled through the wall separating Bri and I's rooms (a very thin wall) "Babs, you want some McDonalds or what?" She said, "WHEN!?" I was craving it so bad, and there was only one 3 things that could satisfy me at that point in time: vanilla milkshake, fries, nuggets. So we bundled up and set out to what was supposed to be the closest McDonalds to us... ended up being an hour long journey in which we stumbled upon 1. A horse in someone’s backyard that we named Saddle Back Jane (Brianna swears that we passed saddle back J pulling two gypsies on the street yesterday) 2. 3 teenie boppin girls with attitudes bigger than the Guinness factory who yelled at me for not donating to their charity but having enough money to go to McDonalds (yes… McDonalds, that’s where all the people with money are) 3. an old man who blocked our way around the corner to the finish line with his cane and after staring us down for a good 30 seconds, dropped his cane, started laughing and walked away (keep in mind this was about 30 minutes into our walk when we had finally reached the golden arches... you could imagine how weirded out and mad we were at this man blocking our way) and 4. The best and most well deserved milkshake and fries I could’ve ever asked for.

Dublin is very much a melting pot of different cultures, and actually the largest amount of immigrants in the last few years have been Polish (does anyone else find that random?). Walking down the street you hear all types of languages (and rarely Irish Gaelic), and this definitely shows through with the restaurants- Asian, Middle Eastern, Italian, Indian and of course American fast food (that is all we have to offer this country besides reality television and Paris Hilton). If you want a real Irish meal all you need is 3 potatoes- mash one, bake one, and make the other into chips. If you want a good meal, there's plenty of international food here. My absolute favorite that I've had has been sushi at Yamamori, which is kind of sad because I'm in Europe, which is known for its food...Ireland I guess not so much... but it seems to be that I'm either eating a 2 euro budget baguette (I'm really splurging if I decide to get feta cheese for 50 extra cents) or a delicious 3 course meal (obviously paid for by the program... or a generous Irishman).

Here are some pictures to emphasize my new found passion of food and my upcoming obesity:

While coming home from the farmer's market last week Kate made me stop and turn around while crossing the bridge so that she could capture the pure happiness on my face and in my heart for this nutella crepe:

Caught in the act of legitimately having a moment with their food:

One of the better meals that has ever been created for me (cheers ben and alex... and you too babs)

Now that I have officially made myself and others look like your typical filthy american mcdonalds addicts, I will depart and go to sleep. Maybe tomorrow I will be thinking of something else besides food...