Mr. Tipsy has been suggesting this for dinner for years. It always sounded so weird to me and I couldn’t understand why he kept asking me to make it. I come to find out, after more than a decade together, that this is a dish his Mom used to make for him. His Mom is no longer with us, but her food was a legacy she left us. Before she passed she gave me her cookbook bible, the one you slip all the recipes you cut out of magazines and the ones you ask friends for that are written on…
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For many years Saint Patrick’s Day was my most dreaded holiday of the year. I used to tend bar part-time (yes, yet another job) and nothing said amateur night (or day) more than Saint Patrick’s Day. It was a day and night filled with slinging drinks, sloppy drunks, no tips, and suburbanites wearing tee shirts that proclaimed they were “CHI-RISH” UGH! OnĀ my own, I refused to ever celebrate the holiday except for the years I spent in my friends yard during the South Side Irish Parade. I don’t count that as celebrating because it was basically beer drinking, fire…
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