Top o' the mornin' to ya...

Patrick and I had a very cool Celtic-themed day yesterday.

The clip above is Natalie MacMaster. We saw her last night playing with the Detroit Symphony. I had no idea it was going to be such a rip-roarin' concert. (The clip above is not at the symphony, of course, but it was one of the best I could find on YouTube.) The concert was incredible. The lady not only could tear it up with the fiddle, but she did some fantastic Irish dancing (and I saw her on YouTube doing the moon walk.) Oh yeah, and she's seven months pregnant.

I declared to Patrick that he should blatantly disregard anything I said about having our kids take the piano.

Harp? Hah! Drums? A drag! Bagpipe? Bore.

I want them fiddlin' up a storm. (I generally change my mind on this anytime I witness incredible talent.)

As I blogged earlier, we started the day at the DIA. That was terrific, and I can't wait to participate in more such lectures. After that, we popped by Eastern Market. (Cincinnatians, think Findlay Market, but bigger and spread over a few blocks. Eastern Market deserves its own post later.)

After perusing the pansies, ogling at oranges, meandering by meat counters and passing by the the fresh popcorn stand, we ate at the famed Russell Street Cafe. It doesn't look like much, but yum! I had some corned beef hash with green onions, two eggs over medium and the best raisin toast -- no, the best toast or bread, period! -- I have ever eaten. (It was a buttery inch of warm bread, lined with swirls of raspberry or plum or raisin jelly.)


After a break at home, the night began with the Natalie MacMaster concert. (As I said, loved it. Bought the CD. Best concert I've seen for $10. If you recall, we bought a bunch of symphony tickets for $10 each as part of a special deal for new symphony-goers.) And we punctuated the evening with a stop by an off-the-beaten-path Irish restaurant/pub called Baile Corcaigh in Detroit's historic Corktown neighborhood.

The setting made you feel like you were in a true Irish pub -- dark oak, stone fireplace, Gothic stained glass windows. (I felt very much like I could actually be in Ireland, which was nice since I never made it there during the vast European tour in college. Something about high tide and not being able to take the ferry from Le Havre, if I recall. Bummer.) We'll have to return to Baile Corcaigh because we were salivating over the menu: chicken pot pie, beef stew, and -- according to a review -- rosemary and garlic lamb chops.


I had a glass of Hill of Content pinot by an Irish vintner who lives in Australia, according to the bartender. Patrick had an O'hara's Irish red.

So Happy St. Patrick's Day, y'all. Luck o' the Irish to us and ours and you and yours.