In traditional Irish cottages of days gone by, the kitchen was the central hub, witnessing the busy comings and goings of daily life. The turf-burning hearth was the focal point.
I have lovely, peaceful memories of my own granny’s kitchen. When I was a very young child a black kettle was constantly boiling, hanging from a pot hook over the open flames.
I remember the day the old hook was removed to make way for a brand new stove. I was only five or six years old at the time, but even then I knew this great change marked the end of an era.
In Granny’s kitchen the cuckoo clock chimed on the hour and half hour. Willow pattern plates stood proudly on the shelves of her dresser.
A red light burned beneath a picture of the Sacred Heart. An oil cloth covered a large oak table surrounded by old straight back chairs, some with wicker seats.
I wrote the following short poem to commemorate the loving memories I hold in my heart of Granny’s cottage kitchen.
Return In Thought
by Mairéad Geary
Return in thought
To granny’s cottage kitchen,
The dresser
Neatly stacked
With blue and white delph,
Ready and waiting
To supply
Endless cups of tea,
With currant cake
Slathered in creamy butter,
And sweet, red jam.
Return in thought,
To the scrubbed oak table,
Surrounded
By rickety, wicker chairs,
Ready and waiting,
To support,
Friendly players of forty-five,
Drinking tea and whiskey,
Pennies and shillings,
Neatly stacked ,
To wile away the hours.
Return in thought,
To flickering flames,
And turf sod fires,
Blackened pothooks,
Ready and waiting,
To support,
Boiling kettles.
Sweet soda breads,
Baking slowly
In the cast iron
Bastible.
Return in thought
To well worn wash boards,
The rhythmic routine
Of clothes lines,
Ready and waiting,
To support,
The daily toil,
Of laundry.
White shirts,
And colored frocks,
Fluttering outside the window.
Now let your thoughts stray
As summer breezes,
Swell those old
Lace curtains,
Ready and willing,
To transport,
The spirits,
Of our ancestors,
Back to the hearth and home,
That once,
They loved so well.
Slán agus beannacht leat!
(Goodbye and blessings)
Irish American Mom
If you enjoyed this post here are some other stories and tributes you might enjoy.
Eulogy For An Irish American Mother
America Bound
Between The Jigs And The Reels
Just lovely. I remember playing 45 as a kid – a great Irish card game.
Molly – I loved playing 45 too when I was a little one. It’s amazing how much we learned watching the grown-ups preserving their trump cards, and playing them cautiously. I must write a blog post about the game of 45 one of these days. I’ll have to rack my memory for all the rules and intricacies.
All the best,
Mairéad
One summer my family stayed in a thatched cottage. It was beautiful. Thanks for bringing back good memories.
Tara – I’m so glad my ramblings brought back good memories for you.
Best wishes,
Mairéad
I remember all those memories too, my mother cooking in the bastible, the beautiful apple and rubharb pies, the roast goose and roast potatoes, and myself as a small little girl putting the red cinders on top of the bastible, thanks for the memories, all the neighbours used to call to our house for the 45 game of cards as well, and i would be sitting on the hob taking it all in. hope all is well with you and your family. regards Maureen :):)
Hi Maureen – what lovely childhood memories you have of cooking with your mother, the old-fashioned way. I think we are the last generation with living memories of those times. My granny used to call the black pot hooks, the crane. My sister, who is six years younger than I am, has no recollection of the black kettle over the fire, or the bastible. The stove had replaced the open fire by the time she was old enough to create memories.
All the best, and thanks as always for stopping by.
Mairéad
The lace curtains are the one thing handed down to me from my Galway born great grandma, Mary Flaherty. Even though I didn’t sit in her house, I treasure them as such.
Kathleen – What a wonderful heirloom to have from your great grandma’s home in Galway – a family treasure for generations to come.
Best wishes,
Mairéad
Nostalgic, but the actual living this way is not for the weak, old or faint of heart. Thanks for sharing…
Marilyn – I think my granny wouldn’t know where to begin using all the modern gadgets and conveniences we have in our kitchens today. Living in olden days was definitely not for the faint of heart.
Best wishes!
Mairéad
I lived with my grandma and we had a wood burning stove for cooking and a sink nearby but the water came from the pump outside. There was a really small window with white flour sack curtains. There was always a mason jar full of bacon grease sitting nearby for cooking and putting a spoonful into the green beans! No, she didn’t die from high cholesterol. .she was 92 when she passed from old age
Kandi – Bacon grease added wonderful flavor to our grandmothers’ dishes. Sounds like you too have lovely memories of your Granny’s Irish Kitchen. Flour sack curtains were very popular in Irish country kitchens – “waste not want not” was the motto of the day.
All the best!
Mairéad
We are here today because our hearty ancestors in Ireland thrived in difficult times. They deserve our acknowledgment and thanks.
Beautifully said, George. I agree wholeheartedly.
Best wishes,
Mairéad
I would love to stay in a traditional cottage next trip.
Cindy – I hope you get to stay in a thatched cottage on your next trip to Ireland – an experience of a lifetime.
Best wishes,
Mairéad
The Old Days 🙂
Jean – As Marilyn said the Old Days were not for the faint of heart, but now we can look back with admiration for our ancestors.
All the best,
Mairéad
Such a lovely post! I remember sitting around my Nana’s big wood table at the Lake. Outhouse, pump, the water, but what fun and memories. Sunday dinners for a crowd even though it was summer, hot and washing all the dishes was a chore. Not in Ireland, but Long Island!
My Nana had a friend we called Linky. She would read the tea leaves, and we would laugh till our sides ached. No TV, no iphones, just people!
Kathleen – It sounds like you have lovely memories of life in your Nana’s Long Island kitchen. There’s nothing in the world like laughing until your sides ache. We sure had some fun back in the day, with no gadgets to entertain us, just the sheer pleasure of each others’ company.
Best wishes,
Mairéad
I well remember the open fire & 3 legged pot,later they were used to feed the hens.
Anne – Old black pots were dotted around many an Irish farmyard… and we think of them as treasures today.
All the best,
Mairéad