Sunday, October 9, 2011

Operation Baked Goods Update

The week in Ireland was marked by a distinct failure to observe the guiding principles of OPERATION HEALTHY FOOD CHOICES (sorry, Maggie!). Frankly, it was more or less a non-stop orgy of lunches, dinners, cups of coffee, pints of cider, and other occasions of dietary sin. In my defence, there was no real way out, and the conversation and general craic were excellent throughout the week. But I am under no illusion that the four visits I made to the excellent fitness center at the hotel made up for what bordered, at times, on gluttonous excess.

In the end it wasn't the Bakewell tart alone that did me in. Nor was it the ganaches, or the delicious "dessert tasting menu" available at Les Gourmandises. No, gentle reader, it was the crumbles that were to be the major contributors to my gastronomic downfall. Apple crumbles. Rhubarb crumbles. Home-made. Store-bought. It made no never-mind to me. I scarfed them down with carefree abandon, never stinting on the whipped cream.

They say confession is good for the soul. I hope so.

And yes, I will be walking everywhere this week. No metro for this sinner, until that belt-notch issue is rectified again.

But, damn, there is nothing like a delicious rhubarb crumble!



  1. I added a new word--craic--to my vocabulary. Liked the comment Urban Dictionary added after the definition: "Note: Very tricky to get away with saying this in the US without getting strange looks for police officers."

  2. Hope crumbles eternal.