A fulsome Chicken of the Woods fungus hacked off an oak tree by Tessa and John Falvey in early June of 2011 lasted us for three or four days. We ate it as a sauté with eggs for breakfast, as strips to make a lasagne of sorts, and even grated it dry into a robust soup.There is a book to be written which might be entitled How Not to be A Vegetarian, about eating such things, for all their satisfaction and completeness, with no reference to ersatz cookery, or the ubiquitous quiche.
The amazing folly or ferme ornée known as the Swiss Cottage by John Nash is just down the River Suir from here. Here the eminent Butler family would play at being peasants in the manner of Marie Antoinette, almost in sight of their big house in Cahir, County Tipperary. The Office of Public Works completely revamped the building with great care and precision over the last twenty years, after the local farmer who owned it had used it for cattle and tying up a horse in the nineteen eighties
Who could not be nostalgic for the innocence of Gilbert and George, the postcard sculptures, the mail-art pieces, the disheveled photo-works about drink like a cracked mirror? But did they begin to believe in their own gothic mythology too much, until they became merely late Victorian stand-ups? A couple of quotes from a recent interview may show how remote they may have become:
Sex is just sex.When you ask for a steak in a restaurant you don’t ask whether it’s a boy or a girl.
If you have a landscape painting in a museum, people glide past it, but if there was a little policeman on the horizon and a tramp in the foreground masturbating, then it becomes an amazingly interesting picture. !