Happy Weekend Before St. Patrick’s Day

Yeah, so it’s still snowing. Still. But I needed groceries. So. Whole Foods!

Whole Foods is like the consolation prize for having to go grocery shopping. If you gotta shove a wheelie basket down innumerable crowded aisles, it might as well be where the selection is interesting and healthy and the experience includes random sampler goodies around odd corners.

Today was apparently St. Patrick’s Day come early at Whole Foods. The PA system was treating the shoppers and staff to a lively mix of traditional jigs and reels and ballads and such. I totally got my recommended daily allowance of “whack-fol-diddle-daddle-di-do-day”s. And lined up along the middle of the back aisle (making it a little tricky to acquire the chicken liver component of my cats’ home-mixed kibble) was a sort of “Taste of the Season” buffet line. The theme, of course, was Irish Cuisine. Here’s the menu:

  • Corned beef slices with horseradish spread
  • Boiled cabbage and carrots
  • An unseasonal colchannon (of the cabbage variety)
  • some sort of oniony salmon spread
  • Irish cheddar on crackers
  • Irish butter on raisin-studded tea bread
  • And mint patties, possibly because “patty” reminded someone of St. Patrick’s nickname.

It was all very yummy. And yes, I know that corned beef and cabbage is not The Great Traditional Irish Dish we all seem to think it is, but my mouth was very happy that my fork found it on my plate.

Also, it was all going to a good cause. The price of the yummies was a $3 minimum donation. It shames me to admit that I can’t remember the name of the organization benefiting, but it had a lot to do with childhood cancers. That I remember, because just everyone in the service line had just had their heads shaved, or were about to, to show solidarity with kids undergoing chemotherapy. (I think maybe the hair might then have been donated to make wigs, but that might have been a separate anecdote.) As I told the lady collecting the money, I’ve already done my time bald (acute myelogenous leukemia, age 11) and am rather fond of keeping my hair these days, but it’s awesome to see so many people willing to make what really is a personal sacrifice on top of the monetary donation. Solidarity is a good thing. Let me tell you, that first time a chemo-bald pre-teen girl walks into a women’s restroom and causes all the rest of the girls to start screaming “Boy in the girl’s room! Get him out, get him out!”, she needs all the solidarity she can get.

So. Lovely lunch, great cause, awesome music. Even if St. Paddy’s Day ain’t ’til Friday. (“Well, if you want a weekend celebration, it’s this weekend or it’s late, right?” as the guy behind the seafood counter said.)

As I extricated myself, my car, and my groceries from this most notoriously labyrinthine Boulder parking lot, I saw a little girl in a pink jacket and pink snow boots stop and tilt her head up to catch a snowflake on her tongue. Hey, just ’cause snow makes me grumpy doesn’t mean other folks can’t enjoy it.

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