A few years ago,
I moved to Ireland
But let’s back up a bit. Five year ago, I met my prince charming at the ball. The Oval Ball in Oman is an annual event held at the end of rugby season. I was not the least bit interested in finding Prince Charming; my focus was on eating a fancy meal, dancing with friends, and taking advantage of the open bar.
But somewhere in the wee hours of the morning the DJ just gave up and left some music playing while we all bounced around on the dance floor. And then my prince appeared. In a depressing sea of young humorless rugby players, there was this impish man who was making me laugh and dancing nearly as badly as I was. The next day a friend called and asked if it was okay to give him my phone number. I said yes.
A few weeks later, he helped me pack. I stayed at his place and did some of the cooking. Then I left to live in China. You see, prior to the ball, I’d decided it was time for a change of venue.
What followed was a long distance relationship the lasted through Milano’s Pizza in Guangzhou, Christmas dinner in Langkawi, and left over duck gizzards somewhere along the back roads of Guilin. He even ate a moon cake! Friends were impressed.
At some point between the Malaysian Christmas buffet and the barbequed ribs in Shanghai’s Xin Tian Di district, my prince moved to Ireland. Dashed were my hopes of moving back to Oman or the two of us relocating to Dubai. That’s when I said I’d follow him to Ireland and get a job there. Surely, Cinderella would have done the same.
So, here I am; former Californian, semi- vegetarian, expat school teacher, and lover of sunshine starting a blog that combines my obsession with food, love of travel and compulsive need to create web sites. Since my impish Kiwi, air traffic controller prince enjoys travel and food (but mostly meat) even more than I do, these musings, recipes and photos will chronicle our exploits.