Life is like a cup of tea, it’s all in how you make it

sligo-bridgeSligo Town, County Sligo was one of the larger towns we visited on our trip and was the farthest north we ventured, very close to the border of Northern Ireland. It was drizzling rain and the cold wind forced us into asligo-bridge-3 pub to drink an Irish coffee for warmth. Lo and behold, when we left the pub, the sun was shining and it was a beautiful morning. It’s amazing what a little Irish whisky will do for your mood. We walked along the Rockwood Parade, taking pictures of the Garvoge River, the pedestrian bridges, sligo-streetand baskets of blooming flowers, making our way deeper into the shopping streets. The town centers in Ireland are mazelike with streets coming in at all angles and at the spot where several converge there is almost always a monument.sligo-clock In the bigger towns, there are several center points so it’s an adventure walking around to discover what kind of shops are on that street.

That’s how I found M. Cosgrove & Son market-sligoDelicatessen on Market Street. Like most other food shops, the front door was open, inviting me in to wonderland.  I loved this tiny shop. It was jam-packed with beautifulsligo-jellies provisions and I wanted to buy it all. There was a path down the middle with shelves and cases, floor to ceiling on either side filled with everything imaginable for any meal, a romantic dinner or picnic…cheeses, olives, sligo-candiesjams, cured meats, lovely salads, nuts, and sweets. There was also a wonderful selection of dry goods to stock a pantry…grains, beans, lentils, peas, tea, coffee, flours. (I’m swooning as I write)sligo-cheese

There are so many things that make Cosgrove’s my pick as favoritesligo-shop shop. It’s inviting, colorful, clean, crowded, well stocked, and family owned. We were on a tight schedule in Sligo and didn’t have much time to linger, which is the biggest drawback for joining a group tour, so I didn’t have time to talk to Michael Cosgrove, the third generation who is now managing the store. He was there; in his white smock stocking shelves and seemed not to mind me taking picture after picture and squealing every time I saw another item I wanted to buy. If I had more time, I could have stayed all morning sligo-dry-goodsasking him about his family and the history of the shop. The store was founded in 1898 by Michael’s grandfather and I wonder if there’s a fourth generation ready to take over someday. I surely hope so. This kind of business is what gives a community stability, deep roots for generations of Sligo shoppers, and a direct connection between consumer and provider. Visiting this shop gives me hope that, while the market culture may be struggling in Ireland, it’s alive and has an excellent chance of survival.sligo-deli

 

Soft words butter no parsnips but they won’t harden the heart of a cabbage either

bannerI was so excited planning my time in Ireland. For a market junkie/foodie like me, the opportunity to study market culture in a foreign country was like winning the lottery. I had made some assumptions from my research last spring about what I would find. I thought there would be open air markets around every corner laden with beautiful produce and open seven days a week. That’s not quite what I found but I thought food shopping in Ireland was pretty amazing.

The fallacy in my assumptions was that I would find open-air farmers markets with local producers similar to the kind found in many US communities. They are there, just not every day. The advertisements I read told me that they were generally held one or two days per week in the morning. Unfortunately, I was usually in the wrong place at the wrong time to attend but did happen to find the Westport Country Market locatedmarket-dishes in the St. Anne’s Boxing Club in Westport, County Mayo. I walked in soon after the doors opened and was surprised to find so few shoppers. Small booths lined the walls of the gym selling homemade breads, pastries, jams, cheese, and prepared foods. There were also handmade knitted goods, wooden puzzles, photography, flowers, and beautiful produce. The vendors were welcoming and warm and willing to talk to me.jelly-jars I was a bit of a mystery to the vendors, though, this odd American with a Mickey Mouse backpack taking pictures and asking dozens of questions. I bought a chunk of cheese to eat for lunch, a colorful wooden puzzle for my grandson, and a beautiful photograph of Crough Patrick. I struck up a conversation market-lady-2with Michael Gannon, the photographer. I explained about my graduate research and my blog site and gave him one of my cards. I asked him about the state of small town Ireland and support of small, local vendors. His answers were very surprising.

When I walked around the cities I visited, I saw vibrant center city shopping districts. I was delighted to find no super stores or mega groceries. There was a wide variety of shops and they all were specialized; how lovely to walk into a shop that carries exactly what I need and not have to walk for miles searching through a thousand displays to find what I am looking for. market-ladyShopping may take a bit longer, moving from shop to shop but imagine having the shop keepers know you by name and supporting local business owners. Michael told me the shopping areas were growing smaller and many vendors were struggling to compete with big box stores like Lidl, a German owned discount grocery chain with more than 10,000 stores across Europe. I checked out their website, and it looks like an all too familiar Walmart situation.

We spoke a bit about the loss of American small town shopping districts to the one-stop mega stores sitting just outside of town, close to the interstate.imag0764 It was sad for me to think I had found the town squares in Ireland to be alive and well only to learn that they are waning. I told Michael about Findlay Market in Cincinnati and other similar city revitalization efforts across the US. Hopefully, people like Michael, and the other country market vendors across Ireland, can band together to slow Lidl’s progress. My concern is the people who live in these towns won’t realize what they have until it’s gone.

I’m thinking a call to the Project for Public Spaces is in order…bring in professionals to give advice and recommendations to bolster the markets and local vendors and let the movement spread before it’s lost. Hey, I’ll help. I can’t imagine a better way to use my master’s degree and, as a bonus, get to go back to Ireland. Michael Gannon, let’s talk!michael-gannon

My good luck as an immigrant in New York

Union Square Park 1st dayWEB

Union Square Park

My first day was a whirlwind of meeting New York City head on. I stored my luggage at the front desk of the hotel and took off down Madison Avenue heading for the Lower East Side and the Tenement Museum. The traffic, the noise, the people and general commotion of a large city made it easy for me to hide in the middle of it all. I wasn’t afraid but there was some apprehension about getting lost in the maze of unfamiliar streets. Even though I had addresses of what I was looking for on Google Maps, I still got lost several times every day. That wasn’t a completely bad thing, though, because every time I got lost I discovered wonderful bits of the city.

 

The nearly 3 mile walk to the Tenement Museum took almost two hours. I stopped every couple of blocks to look in storefronts or down open cellar doors to watch the activity going on. I picked up lunch along the way and decided to stop in Union Square Park to eat and people watch. This park is about three blocks long and one block wide, not huge but big enough for a couple thousand people to be there playing, walking, sitting, talking, eating, and just hanging out. It was crowded and busy and an interesting spot to people-watch. The first thing I had to do was decide where I wanted to sit and rest. Along the Park Avenue side there were lots of benches, many with open seating. I didn’t feel comfortable stopping there, though. I noticed it was men who had claimed those seats. No particular age group or ethnicity, just all men. It made me think about one of my readings last week that studied how interactions happen in public spaces and how groups tend to congregate in “their spot” every time they visit any space where they claim ownership. I didn’t want to seem like I was trying in invade anyone’s spot even though I had no way of knowing if this was indeed “their spot” or not. So, on I went until I saw a woman about my age sitting along a wall facing a wide walkway. I sat down a couple of feet away from her and started to eat my lunch. The wall wasn’t very comfortable but did give me a sense of safety in that there was someone else, very similar to me in that she was a middle-aged woman, resting in a patch of bright sunlight. It was very interesting to witness what I have been studying play out in this park with groups naturally segregating themselves into like-minded clusters and me walking until I found a spot next to someone I felt a possible bond with, even though we never spoke or acknowledged that the other was there.

So, on I walked to the corner of Delancey and Orchard Streets and into the Tenement 97 Orchard DoorWEBMuseum. This museum is a fascinating study of life in the Lower East Side from 1863-1935. 97 Orchard Street housed a storefront business in the lowest floor with 20 apartments above, four on each of five floors, two forward and two in the back. There were four privies and one water spigot in the courtyard behind the building. Each apartment had three rooms: a bedroom, kitchen, and parlor for a total of about 350 square feet. In the 70 years this particular building housed families, there had been over 7000 people who had called it home. The tours are an intriguing look into family and community life in the most densely populated neighborhood in the United States at the turn of the 20th century. The people who lived there were dependent upon their community for survival as many had left their extended families behind in their home countries. They were dependent on community to find familiar language and customs, to ease the feelings of loss of their homeland, and to have people 97 Orchard Fire Escape WEBwith which to create new familial bonds. The neighborhood changed and adapted over the years as waves of new immigrants came to New York. What started as a mostly German enclave next became home to Eastern European Jewish families and then home to Italian immigrants.

I took three tours, two in the 97 Orchard Street building and the last called “Tenement Tastings” which was an eight course tasting menu of traditional ethnic foods that could be found in the Lower East Side. After a long day of travel, walking, and touring I was exhausted by the end of the meal. It was then that I had the great luck of meeting my first official NYC friends. They were three sisters and the mom, all talking at once, laughing, eye-rolling, teasing, and sharing the meal. They reminded me so much of evenings out with my daughters, it was fun to watch them and wonder what people thought about us when we were out. I asked them for help finding the subway back to my hotel. I told them I knew there was a train somewhere near but was completely lost as to finding it and purchasing a ticket. The oldest daughter immediately said I could ride back with her as she was going to take the exact train I needed. The rest of the family agreed that I should come along and so I did. There I was, a newcomer in Manhattan, taken in by this lovely family who helped me find the station, purchase my ticket, and taught me how to navigate the subway system. We were together for only about thirty minutes but in that short time we compared the price of rent and groceries where we lived, shared stories about our travel and families, and found similarities among ourselves even though we live very different lifestyles. We parted ways at 42nd and Madison with smiles and handshakes and wishes to have a good night. They are a lovely family and I hope they will check in on this site. I have a terrible memory so wrote down their names then promptly lost track of the paper I wrote them on.  Here is their picture. They gave me the best welcome I’ve ever had and I hope I will meet them again someday. What a coincidence that the sisters lined up in age order just like mine do.

Family Pic 1 WEB

Maya, Molly, Alice, and Chloe! I heard from both Alice and Molly…thank you for your help, I am honored that you took such good care of me!

Things I learned my first day in New York

Building NYC 2

I thought this one was pretty. Across from Union Square Park.

I got here, safe and sound, and much to my own surprise I picked up my luggage, walked out through the sliding glass doors of the airport, boarded the Super Shuttle and did not die. This is the first time I’ve ever landed in a city and didn’t have someone drive up in a car to rescue me from whatever danger was waiting to smack me in the face. I’ve always had this anxiety about walking out of an airport by myself and my friends know this and accept that weird little bit of my personality. Therefore, I’ve always triple double checked everyone’s travel plans, making sure I was either on someone else’s flight or the last one to arrive, so someone else would have a rental car and come get me. I know it’s a ridiculous thing to be afraid of but that yawning maw of the great beyond on the other side of the glass door is scary. So this trip, completely on my own, was a very big deal. Someone even called it bold. Indeed.

Cornell Club web

This is the only signage for The Cornell Club of New York…just the number 6. It felt like they’re trying to keep it  a secret.

 

I am beyond tired right now, so I decided to just post a list of the things I learned my first day:

  1. It’s going to take 2 hours for a shared van to get from LaGuardia to Mid-town Manhattan and there’s nothing I can do to make the traffic move any faster.
  2. When the van driver drops me off on Madison Avenue, a block and a half from my hotel and tells me it’s just around the corner, I should grab the handle of my suitcase like a boss and fake it until I make it. Always smile at the doorman when I finally find it.
  3. In Manhattan, nobody drives in the marked lanes; they go where they please and even run a red light to get in front of a tour bus.
  4. I will never drive in Manhattan.
  5. It’s a long way to walk from 44th and Madison to Delancey and Orchard but worth every step and there’s a Cuban restaurant on 23rd with really good croquettes.
  6. I shouldn’t have worn the dress with the full skirt because it’s windy here and also, there’s the subway grates.
  7. The Lower East Side is full of the most interesting people.
  8. I love the Tenement Museum and all the tour guides are fabulous.
  9. New Yorkers are very friendly, helpful to lost visitors, and love to chat about their city.
  10. I walked 14,000 steps and am very glad I wore my Keen’s. They aren’t the most fashion forward of cute shoes but my feet don’t hurt at all and that makes me happy.

Tenement Museum Sign web

Nighty, night. It’s an early morning tomorrow.