Irish Need Not Apply

   Top  O' the Morning to ye. And for the rest of the day. I was not born Irish, nor raised by leprechauns.  But, by jiminy, on March 17, I am ready to speak funny for association and eat for the cause.  No, not that nasty looking American bar creation, green beer, but Corned Beef & Cabbage. Add a carrot and potato,if you like, and call it a New England Boil.  I get fainty just thinking about it.
   Keep fainting because I have discovered that Corned Beef & Cabbage is (like German Chocolate Cake) an 'American thing.'  Yesterday I went to the green grocer and butcher shop (you know, where they sell nothing but meat) and he didn't even have corned beef --called "silverside" here-- in stock.  Minimal stocks of cabbage at the green grocer.  Quick, run into the big grocery store....and even more disappointment. No packages of corned beef marinating in spices, no wheeled bins of accompanying produce, not even a plastic shamrock on the wall or green frosted cupcake in sight.

   Paddy, where are you?

   The Irish in this area  are forced to congregate in just a few bars with Irish names.  They advertise an "Irish breakfast"  of Black Pudding (a pork sausage made with pig's blood), bacon, tomatoes, toast and beans (ummm, that last bit sounds rather English.)  A few Irish bands and a Celtic dancer or two.  
   And not a slice of corned beef to be had. No parades. No greening a river. No shamrock-shaped baked goods. No special Masses. Few people outside JB O'Briens wearing green. Not a rainbow in sight. A sorry way to spend St Patrick's  Day, to be sure, to be sure.