All of one’s senses immediately go on overload. Colorful stalls with fresh produce make your eyes glaze over, still-alive fresh fish wriggle on beds of ice, displays of all types of meat you can ever imagine fill the aisles.
This is Cork’s world famous English Market,
which dates back to 1788. Everything you could ever want to cook with or taste is within the market’s walls. During our first day in Cork, Erica pointed it out as a must-see stop, so I went back the next morning, and then several more times throughout our two-week stay. I wish that I could have eaten there everyday and tasted all that the market had to offer, but being on a budget, I also ended up eating a lot of cheap bread and cheese throughout the week.
But everything that I did try from the market gave me that melt-in-your-mouth feeling where the only thing that matters in the world is how incredible that bite is. The cake, the sandwiches, the fruits, the cheese: they were all bliss.
On our last morning in Cork, I took one last trip to the market. Everyone else was either sleeping in before our afternoon journaling class or already in their film class, but I wanted to savor the last few hours in this college town. I spent at least an hour moseying through the aisles, stopping at every stall, taking photos that barely capture the essence. Though I walked through the front arches with problems from home on the forefront my mind, being in the market instantly soothed these concerns. The market’s vibe of being food-central in Cork wrapped and kept my attention so that the worries vanished: I was here and now, enjoying the food.
Eating, preparing food, and talking about food have always been important activities for all generations of my family. For example, several years ago in Michigan, my family along with an aunt and uncle even drove about two hours to taste the state’s best cherry pie. We’re always in pursuit of the best restaurants when traveling; hundreds of cookbooks probably line the bookshelves throughout our house; Food Network is constantly turned on our TV. We’re not obsessed (though it may sound like it), but food is just something that brings us all together. The kitchen really is the heart of our home.If I lived in Cork longer (and with more funds for good food and free time to spend in the market and in the kitchen), the English Market would become my main shopping point. I’d like to try everything there, from the different types of succulent olives filling wooden buckets, to the cheeses made both locally and from around the world, to each of the different types of breads filling baskets. The market is heaven for a foodie.
Before leaving, I bought one last lunch: a baguette filled with Ardsallagh Irish goat’s cheese (from a farm right outside Cork), sweet roasted tomatoes, red onion, greens, and onion jam. The goat cheese wasn’t too tart and it’s creaminess melted into the bread. The onion jam added the sweetness that I love about caramelized onions. One last walk in the market, one last luscious meal.
This is Cork’s world famous English Market, which dates back to 1788. Everything you could ever want to cook with or taste is within the market’s walls. During our first day in Cork, Erica pointed it out as a must-see stop, so I went back the next morning, and then several more times throughout our two-week stay. I wish that I could have eaten there everyday and tasted all that the market had to offer, but being on a budget, I also ended up eating a lot of cheap bread and cheese throughout the week.
But everything that I did try from the market gave me that melt-in-your-mouth feeling where the only thing that matters in the world is how incredible that bite is. The cake, the sandwiches, the fruits, the cheese: they were all bliss.
On our last morning in Cork, I took one last trip to the market. Everyone else was either sleeping in before our afternoon journaling class or already in their film class, but I wanted to savor the last few hours in this college town. I spent at least an hour moseying through the aisles, stopping at every stall, taking photos that barely capture the essence. Though I walked through the front arches with problems from home on the forefront my mind, being in the market instantly soothed these concerns. The market’s vibe of being food-central in Cork wrapped and kept my attention so that the worries vanished: I was here and now, enjoying the food.
Eating, preparing food, and talking about food have always been important activities for all generations of my family. For example, several years ago in Michigan, my family along with an aunt and uncle even drove about two hours to taste the state’s best cherry pie. We’re always in pursuit of the best restaurants when traveling; hundreds of cookbooks probably line the bookshelves throughout our house; Food Network is constantly turned on our TV. We’re not obsessed (though it may sound like it), but food is just something that brings us all together. The kitchen really is the heart of our home.If I lived in Cork longer (and with more funds for good food and free time to spend in the market and in the kitchen), the English Market would become my main shopping point. I’d like to try everything there, from the different types of succulent olives filling wooden buckets, to the cheeses made both locally and from around the world, to each of the different types of breads filling baskets. The market is heaven for a foodie.
Before leaving, I bought one last lunch: a baguette filled with Ardsallagh Irish goat’s cheese (from a farm right outside Cork), sweet roasted tomatoes, red onion, greens, and onion jam. The goat cheese wasn’t too tart and it’s creaminess melted into the bread. The onion jam added the sweetness that I love about caramelized onions. One last walk in the market, one last luscious meal.
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