Café Paradiso

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A few weeks ago when I was in Books for Cooks, the amazing bookstore I found in London, I picked up a copy of a new book called Wild Garlic, Gooseberries ...and Me. It was full of short essays on specific foods, seasonality, sustainability, life, cooking and passing thoughts. The pages were mixed of beautiful pictures, and elegant recipes; I sat on the couch reading it for quite a while. Since it was £20, I sadly slipped it back on the shelf and made a note in my journal for a later Christmas List. Last Friday as I stood in The Winding Stair in Dublin I pulled a beautiful volume off the shelf called The Café Paradiso Cookbook. The color, the simplicity, the ingenuity, the absolute deliciousness of each recipe drew me in, and I thumbed to the front of the book to find an address for the café. 16 Lancaster Quay - Cork, Ireland. Perfect. But it wasn't until I was double checking the hours online this morning did I notice that the author of Wild Garlic, Gooseberries ...and Me, and the chef and writer of The Café Paradiso Cookbook, were one and the same. One Mr. Dennis Cotter to be exact.


Since The Café Paradiso is closed on Sunday and Monday I waited eagerly during my first two days in Cork to treat myself to lunch. Feeling a little silly, but unable to resist as the sun was warm and shinning, I wore the pink sun dress I bought on sale in Dublin. The café was small and cozy inside, and I felt at home. The food was appropriately slow from the kitchen, this was lunch made after I ordered... the vegetables were fresh and just so lightly cooked, warm and piled over two semolina cakes. And of course I had dessert, and it was breathtaking. I think, possibly the best dessert I've ever been served dining out. Long stems of rhubarb were poached and then laid, still warm, over a block of obviously homemade ice cream, so lightly flavored of orange blossom, poppy seed & saffron. I finished my late lunch with a generous pot of tea and lingered over my book, basking in the ambiance and secretly wishing this was my café peaking out over the River Lee.



Cork has been a wonderful stop on all fronts, not just gastronomically. It couldn't be more different than Dublin; it is small and quaint. Life has that slowness here you lose in the city, and I've spent three afternoons in a row sipping tea and lingering in the towns many bookshops. I even stopped in at the Cork Butter Museum. On Sunday when I arrived it was drizzling and since most of the shops were closed, I scurried from awning to awning exploring the little streets. In the morning the sun was making a valiant attempt to take back the weather and I hopped on a bus to Blarney Castle for the morning. I've been fascinated with the Blarney Castle since I was little kid, and it never fails to be a little awing to suddenly be seeing things I used to read and dream about when I was little and I certainly wasn't going to pass up my chance at the Gift of Gab. The castle itself and the grounds were incredible as well, Ireland definitely lives up to its reputation for beauty. It was basically a serene park on the outskirts of a little village just South of Cork. After kissing the Blarney Stone, I took the path through the woods and around the lake to enjoy the spring weather. I ate a delicious pic-nic of fresh Irish Soda Bread and Tuna Salad I'd picked up at Cork's famous English Market before catching the bus that morning.


This morning before blowing todays entire food allowance on Lunch I took the bus East along the River Lee to the harbor and the tiny town of Cobh (pronounced cove). I was perfectly content to wander up and down the streets poking my head into shops and enjoying the sun. Cobh sits on the second largest natural harbor in the world; it also happened to be the last stop of the ill-fated Titanic. Waiting for the bus I sipped tea in a homey little café looking out across the harbor, nibbling yet another scone. This is a life to which I could become accustomed.