The Eating Of The Green

I'm as Irish as Paddy's pig. I love the idea of leprechauns and spirits. I enjoy potatoes and lamb and, of course, corned beef. Soda bread is in my blood. I like sentimental songs like "Danny Boy" and "When Irish Eyes Are Smiling." I enjoy spinning stories and naughty Limericks and I hope someday to visit Ireland, from whence came half of my heritage but, when it comes to drinking green beer, I draw the line.

First, I don't really like beer very much (except the beers I tried in Belgium, which are the best of the brewer's art). My Dad frequently had a beer after playing strenuous tennis and he'd let me have the first sip. I don't know how this ritual began but it is as old as my memories of my father - even as a small child I got the first sip of his beer - and I was always glad to surrender the rest of it to him after the first taste. Now, all these years later, the first sip of a beer still brings his memory back and makes me feel privileged.

But, not being a big beer lover, I tend to look for other ways to incorporate green into my St. Patrick's Day celebrations. One year, I bought Dad a green plastic derby that delighted him - he wore it while lustily singing "Irish Eyes" that year. This year, I have purchased a pair of green-tinted sunglasses with lenses shaped like shamrocks. And, although it's not strictly Irish, I'm serving this brilliant green Swiss chard with dinner this evening, probably lamb and potatoes, or perhaps corned beef.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!