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For anyone who’s ever met me, it’s obvious that I am about as Irish Catholic as they come. Fair skin, blue eyes, the natural inclination to correctly pronounce “Smithwick’s Ale” (order it “Smit-icks”, or don’t order it at all). I even have red hair (ignore the box of Miss Clairol behind the curtain). Despite the fact that a chunk of my ancestry is actually Italian, it’s Irish I am correctly assumed to be by anyone who cares to ask, or anyone who knows not to bother even asking if I’d prefer a beer or a cosmo. I’ve got the Irish part down. The Catholic part? Eh…I could stand to log a few good hours in a confessional, if you catch my drift.
My first time taking a cooking class, and I get to go to two in one month! Last Thursday night I made my way to the West Village to the Miette Culinary Studio. I laughed as I ascended the stairs of the very same townhouse that houses the bar Down the Hatch, the kind of place that you feel too old to be in at 22. What a surprise to see the quaint countryside setting waiting for me on the 3rd floor.
because I lifted it from the wonderful Simply Recipes (who I think may have lifted it from someone else…but who’s counting?)
