Irish food culture — put on the back burner

What’s authentic, what’s lost, and what’s next?

We have no shortage of food culture in this country, with magnificent chefs and a post-Celtic Tiger craving for taking pleasure in what we eat. But what is Irish food? When a foreign friend comes to town, do you find yourself recommending they try a spice bag? Are you ashamed of that? After 800 years of occupation, are we still slightly dismissive of the history and presence of “peasant food”?  

As a nation we desire good food. We have people who care about enjoying what they eat daily and sharing it with others. No longer is there this puritanical idea of only eating to survive. This is good. This is what we offer to tourists and each other, but with a growing fight for the revival of our language and heritage, are we giving the same attention to our food culture? 

“With a growing fight for the revival of our language and heritage, are we giving the same attention to our food culture?”

Much of what we consider Irish food stems from the influence of occupiers. The Spanish conquistadors, for example, brought the potato from South America to Europe in the 1500s, where it became a staple. This is how food culture works, and it can be a beautiful part of it too, when done peacefully and respectfully. It evolves, blending native ingredients with foreign ones. The worry, though, is that in replicating what’s popular elsewhere — pizza slices, kebab shops, sushi bars — we may be leaving our own food heritage behind. Is there a place as well known for coddle or stew in Dublin as Bambino or Bunsen? Not that I can think of. I don’t think this is necessarily something to be ashamed of, but definitely something to recognise and discuss.

Is there a place as well known for coddle or stew in Dublin as Bambino or Bunsen?”

We have some way to go before Irish food reaches the renown of Napoli’s pizza and Parisian pastries, given that people travel from all over for a taste of the action, but most of those places have had time to come into themselves. In any case, this has not affected our ability to embrace each other through food in a similar way. If you go to someone’s house they will insist on giving you something of substance, a cup of tea, some biscuits, the chocolate in the cupboard — “please, help yourself” they say. We jump on any  excuse to go out and speak with the people we love over a table with something on it, whether it’s Guinness, coffee or lunch in between work. Embracing this is harder to do now with the price of it all but we manage where we can. 

Ireland is an island nation, a never-ending coastline, yet historically our focus has been more on farm-animal food than fish. Under British rule, Ireland was seen as a source of agricultural produce rather than a maritime power, which meant little investment in fishing technology. Even where it was funded, the fish we caught was often shipped off to Britain, leaving us with little incentive to fish for ourselves.Even before British rule, Ireland’s rugged coastlines made fishing challenging, and without refrigeration, preserving fish was difficult and expensive. 

The Catholic Church, however, also influenced our relationship with fish: eating meat was discouraged, particularly on Fridays and during Lent. Fish, being cold-blooded and not “traditionally bleeding”, was allowed as an exception. In rural communities, bishops often granted dispensations allowing people to eat meat when fish was scarce or difficult to get. Many priests would turn a blind eye to this, recognizing that harsh working conditions made it challenging for people to access substantial food substitutes like fish. This is also how foods like black pudding came to be. The use of pig blood in black pudding was a clever workaround — while it wasn’t the flesh of the animal, it still provided a protein-rich food during times when other options were limited.

Likewise, coddle and stew were born out of a necessity for sustenance when cash crops  were taken from starving people during the famine. I just wonder why we don’t see more re-imaginings of heritage dishes in modern Irish cuisine.

Post-colonial Ireland has made great strides in reclaiming its culinary identity: we’ve embraced the best of our natural resources, creating a thriving seafood industry with world-class oysters, smoked salmon, and chowders. We’ve developed a vibrant cheese-making tradition, artisanal bread production, and craft beers that stand out internationally. That being said, with chefs who use local ingredients to create something uniquely Irish and at the same time globally appealing at its helm, modern Irish cuisine could be a much greater phenomenon than it is now. We have the talent. We have the passion for our culture. What is stopping us?

Ireland’s food story is still being written”

It is worth noting that our hospitality industry is struggling. Rising costs, staffing shortages, and the lingering effects of the pandemic have left many businesses on the edge. Pubs, restaurants, and small food producers — the beating heart of our food culture — need our support. Every meal we enjoy locally, every coffee in an independent cafe, and every night out at a family-owned restaurant helps keep the industry alive.  

When you travel outside the centre of Dublin there’s no denying that our culinary heritage is present in spades but, there is room in our capital for day-visitors to be immersed in what we have to offer. Ireland’s food story is still being written. We embrace our language, our music and our sport. Our food is next.