The Emerald Isle - Preview

So some 6 years ago, I gave my mom an Ireland travel book with a note inside which read "Mom, I'm taking you to Ireland." (For the record, I just now realized, after spending a week in Ireland with the woman, that she did not bring said travel book on the trip.) Fast forward 6 years which included an engagement, a wedding, two cousins' graduations, another cousins' wedding, job changes, moves, and a strong desire to avoid the summer crowds, and my mom and I and my Auntie Kate were sitting at Vino Volo in Newark Airport waiting to board our flight to Dublin.

If you are ever looking for a restaurant with my mom, you'll hear the phrase "Don't worry about me! I can find something to eat anywhere." Ignore her. She cannot. My mom has an admittedly very bland palette. She thinks black pepper is too spicy. She doesn't eat fish. She thinks parmesan cheese "tastes like a cellar" (this might be the reason I love parmesan). She ordered mac and cheese at Vino Volo. It was laced with truffle oil. She is the only human being on God's green earth that thinks this is a bad surprise. Needless to say, she ended up with a styrofoam carton of chinese food instead ;) The foregoing also explains why I had few worries of her starving to death in Ireland, home of the potato and boiled meat and cabbage.

We boarded the plane, our tummies full to remove the necessity of trying to choke down airplane food. Thanks to my Uncle John, the gals had upwards of 30 free drink coupons. Needless to say, he has far fewer now. Seven hours later, the plane landed in Dublin, and we were on our way!