Why I Hate St. Patrick's Day

First let me establish that I am three quarters Irish, that my sisters and I all have "een" in our names, and that I do wear green on March 17th , mostly so I won't get pinched. I have no idea how that little tradition began, but children in school yards all over the U.S. who don't wear green tomorrow will run in fear from their classmates due to this "cute" custom. I also love a good parade, and some of the best non Mardi Gras parades are held on St. Patrick's Day. Green Beer? I could take it or leave it. What made me hate the holiday as a child was-cue evil music-Corned Beef and Cabbage.

Just the idea of it, the memory of the boiling cabbage, its odor punching me as I walked in the door after school, breaks me out in a cold sweat. The way I was raised I had to clean my plate before I could leave the dinner table. Believe me, I would have been happy to send starving children the soggy cold cabbage on my plate, cold because I saved the worst for last. A method I also employed with lima beans and green peas. I'd start with the boiled potatoes (seasoned with a pinch of salt and maybe, if I was lucky, pepper), move on to the corned beef, then gag and dry heave my way through the cabbage. Leftovers on the 18th weren't much better, corned beef hash with a poached egg on top. At least Mom didn't put the cabbage in the hash where it could touch and contaminate the potatoes and beef.

There is a reason we don't see Irish cuisine-based restaurants popping up on every corner. O'Charley's might have an Irish sounding name, but it does not serve traditional Corned Beef and Cabbage. Boiled food, dry soda bread, undercooked bacon and eggs are not all that appetizing. Okay, now I'm shuddering. There's a reason the Irish are better known for their beer, stout, and whiskey-it helps the food go down.