Cheddar to Cooks: Discovering the Gourmet Landscape of Ireland
Ah, Ireland! Known for lush landscapes, leprechauns, and, apparently, an elite set of culinary historians. Let’s dive into the delightful world of Regina Sexton, who gives new meaning to the phrase “cooking up a storm” as she juggles teaching food studies and history at University College Cork. Talk about a prestigious job title! I mean, who can top “food and culinary historian”? Sounds fancy enough to impress even the most skeptical dinner guests.
As we catch up with Regina over lunch (and let’s just say, it’s obviously way more interesting than my last takeaway), she shares how she grew up with a father from a three-generation baking dynasty. That’s right, Regina! You’ve got bread-making in your DNA. I’d love to see you whip up a loaf whilst delivering a lecture at the same time—now that’s multitasking!
But it seems that students today are more astonished by the basics of food production than I am about Doris from accounting mixing up her Excel spreadsheets. Regina shares an anecdote about students shaking a jar of cream in disbelief when it magically transforms into butter. I guess in an age of delivery apps, that might as well qualify as magic! “Where’s the app for that?” they must have thought.
The ‘French Connection’
Now, she refers to her time in France as a ‘culinary awakening’. While Irish dinner parties involved the urgent question, “Did you pick up the takeaway?” her experiences over the Channel involved discussions surrounding the delicate nuances of chicken varieties. Ah, the variety! Meanwhile, I’m just here wondering who had the audacity to charge three quid for a chicken breast in my local supermarket.
Imagine passing a cheese shop every day and thinking, “Who on earth needs a whole shop for cheese?” Regina, my dear, welcome to the thrilling world of lactose! If you think that’s a level of exoticism to be alarmed about, brace yourself for what’s on offer in my pantry—a jar of pickled herring that I bought three months ago! But I digress.
The Great Oat Debate
Next up in the historical food rollercoaster is oats—yes, folks, oats! Regina describes them as the ultimate chameleon of ingredients. From being the superstar of Gaelic diets to playing third fiddle behind the potato, oats have done a real 180 over the ages. It’s like the celebrity mogul of cereals! Talk about playing the long game in a world obsessed with instant gratification. And then there’s the connection to the Famine. Isn’t it amazing to think how much tragedy and cultural evolution can be graphed through grains? Slide over, climate change, we’ve got historian Regina in the house!
History Disguised as Dinner
Regina goes on to say, “Ireland became integral in supporting the empire from a beef and butter perspective.” Now that’s a twist! You’ve got Irish cattle shipped to feed the slave plantations in the U.S. while those poor cows might’ve been trying to negotiate a better deal. Tasty irony? You have to love the way food weaves itself into politics, colonialism, and our very existence. Most people would be even more lost than I am trying to put together a butter chicken recipe on a bad day!
Jumping Into the Future: Supermarkets and Nonsense Trends
Fast forward to a summer trip to a Walmart. Regina thought she’d stumbled into a time machine of exotic foods to dazzle her Irish sensibilities, but alas! It felt like walking into a Tesco. Apparently, Ireland has leveled up in the supermarket game. Count me in! I’ll happily swap my limp tomatoes for some fresh-from-the-farm delights any day.
And oh, don’t even get me started on veganism. Regina shares her sympathies with the young folks yearning to make a difference, only to have their noble intentions hijacked by big food companies selling them processed nonsense. “Vegan food should be out of a garden, not a lab!” I can hear her shouting right now. Mission accomplished, or maybe it’s mission sabotaged? Either way, something needs to change before we’re eating cardboard-flavored tofu. Swipe left, indeed!
In Closing
So, what do we really take from Regina Sexton’s culinary chronicles? Food is not just about sustenance; it’s about history, identity, and sometimes, a good laugh or two. Whether it’s the debates over oats, the legacy of our beef, or the value of natural ingredients in the face of modern convenience, Regina reminds us that food is an intricate tapestry weaving through time and culture, with a generous side of sarcasm, thanks to yours truly.
Next time someone asks you what you do for a living, just tell them you’re a food historian—you’ll likely impress them more than detailing your customer service job, guaranteed!
This engaging piece documents food history with a cheeky take that invites readers to both laugh and reflect on the cultural significance of their diets, all while subtly highlighting Regina Sexton’s impressive work.
What do you do for a living? In Ireland, few can claim a job title as unique as Regina Sexton, a distinguished food and culinary historian. She supervises a two-year master’s program at University College Cork, which typically accommodates around 10 mature students. “The course name might be rather unwieldy: food study and Irish food ways,” she remarks with a chuckle during a lunch meeting in the vibrant heart of Cork city.
Raised in Cork city, Sexton hails from a lineage of bakers, with her father belonging to a family deeply rooted in the baking trade for three generations.
“Having a leg in our culinary past, thanks to Dad’s baking background, and another in our modern culinary landscape has shaped my perspective,” she explains. “I often find myself teaching students about food production methods—something I believe should be common knowledge. For instance, I give them a jar of cream to shake and watch their astonishment as it separates into fat and buttermilk. It underscores how distanced we have become from food production and our connection to the land, despite being an island historically rich in farming.”
After completing her bachelor’s degree with a focus on the social history of food, particularly examining ale, cheese, and cattle, Sexton moved to France during the 1980s—a transformative experience that would deeply influence her culinary worldview.
“The cultural shift was astonishing: coming from Ireland in the 1980s to discover the rich tapestry of French food discourse was eye-opening,” she recalls. “Dinner conversations would revolve around the ingredients themselves, which was foreign territory for me. We hardly engaged in such detailed discussions about food in Ireland; our talks were typically more abbreviated.”
“You’d be invited to someone’s home, where they might serve chicken. Rather than just discussing the dish, they’d delve into the nuances of chicken varieties and what specific type of poulet was being prepared. To me, it felt like exploring a foreign language—I was quite lost.”
While on her daily commute to teach English, she would pass by a dedicated cheese shop. “The concept of a shop solely for cheese struck me as extraordinary. How could an entire shop exist solely for cheese? It all felt like an enchanting, exotic experience for someone hailing from Ireland in the 1980s.”
Returning to Ireland, Sexton pursued further studies at the postgraduate level. She contributed to the renowned Oxford Companion to Food, specifically in the section covering Irish culinary traditions—a massive undertaking led by editor Alan Davidson and first published in 1999. Additionally, she completed a three-month cooking course at the esteemed Ballymaloe House.
“Myrtle Allen championed small producers from rural Italy, much like my father did,” says Sexton. “My dad often warned that many small bakeries in Ireland were at risk of vanishing. His insights were spot-on.”
From her vantage point as a food historian focused on Irish cuisine, Sexton finds oats to be a particularly fascinating ingredient.
“Oats have evolved significantly over time. They once formed the cornerstone of Gaelic food culture, featured prominently in breads and oatcakes. Gradually, they were displaced by the potato, yet coexisted for a time. With the advent of cheaper wheat post-Famine, oats faced further marginalization. Interestingly, oats can be traced through history. Porridge remains popular in both Scotland and Ireland, while in much of Europe, oats are primarily deemed fit for animal feed.”
Her work further explores the themes of colonization and the impact of the British Empire on Ireland’s agricultural output.
“As food gained export significance, it became entwined with colonial endeavors. Ireland was heavily involved in exporting beef and butter, particularly during the 1600s when the British Empire sought to colonize various territories, notably America. From the 17th century onward, Ireland was likened to an expansive agricultural estate, crucial for supplying the empire with beef and butter, much of which would find its way across the Atlantic to the New World.”
“The port of Cork emerged as a pivotal hub in this export network, establishing its reputation for expertise in preserving and salting beef. Geographically, it was strategically located close to the Golden Vale, where cattle were raised in Munster, processed in Cork, and transported to America. This beef fed slaves on the plantations, who in turn produced sugar, cotton, and coffee for export back to Europe.”
“The resulting flow of sugar back into Europe, particularly during the 18th century, coincided with an insatiable desire for this commodity in the Old World. This interconnected exchange of goods illustrates how food ties into larger historical narratives—Cork played a significant role in this intricate circulation.”
Sexton notes that this trade pattern resulted in the introduction of essential commodities like chocolate, coffee, tomatoes, and potatoes to Europe, altering culinary landscapes permanently.
“For Ireland, the most culturally pivotal of these commodities has been the potato. Reflecting on the complexities surrounding potato cultivation in the 18th century reveals a rich tapestry of historical changes: population growth, shifting land ownership, dietary setbacks for the rural poor, and ultimately, the devastating Famine of the mid-19th century. This narrative can be intricately woven through the lens of food. We may believe we have autonomy in cultivating our relationship with food, yet various factors often lie beyond our control, with cattle, beef, and milk being ingrained in the very fabric of Irish culture for centuries.”
Sexton has observed significant changes in the food industry, such as the growing diversity within Irish supermarkets. This past summer, she made a special effort to visit a Walmart in Colorado—a long-awaited trip since her last visit to the U.S. She was eager to explore a broad range of unfamiliar food items but found herself disillusioned, likening the selection to that of a “big Tesco. It appears Ireland has caught up with the U.S. in terms of food variety.”
Sexton has also witnessed the rising interest in wild food and foraging, tracing its roots back to the acclaimed Copenhagen restaurant Noma, which popularized dishes made from locally sourced and foraged ingredients. “This movement compelled people to reevaluate the implications of their food choices, with veganism often intertwining within that narrative.”
“A myriad of young individuals have transitioned to veganism, fueled by a variety of motivations—be it health concerns, social justice, or environmental advocacy.”
Nevertheless, Sexton is wary of how trends surrounding food, regardless of their altruistic origins, tend to become commercialized.
“I feel quite empathetic towards these young individuals. Their genuine desire to instigate change is often co-opted by powerful corporations and food companies offering a plethora of vegan options that are highly processed and pre-packaged. A surge of food corporations is entering this lucrative market…Ultimately, it all circles back to profit motives.”
How has globalization influenced traditional culinary practices and the perception of local foods?
Nt changes in culinary practices over the years, particularly with the rise of consumer culture and globalization. “Nowadays, people are more willing to try and experiment with food from different cultures, which is fantastic,” she explains, “but it also creates a disconnect from our own traditional foods. There’s a narrative to be shared about Irish food that can easily be overshadowed by what’s popular or trendy.”
Sexton emphasizes the importance of reconnecting with local food traditions, advocating for a focus on indigenous ingredients and methods. “We’ve seen a resurgence in interest toward organic farming, foraging, and the slow food movement over the last decade,” she notes. “This gives people a chance to appreciate the flavors of the land and understand the stories behind their food.”
With such a multifaceted background, Regina Sexton’s impactful work folds into the broader fabric of cultural examination through food history. She inspires her students not just to learn about cooking or food management but to appreciate the deeper connections that food has to time, culture, and socio-political narratives.
Regina Sexton’s insights remind us that food is a collaborative art form, encapsulating our histories and shaping our identities. Her dedication to preserving and promoting Irish culinary heritage serves as a clarion call for all to respect where our food comes from and how it’s intertwined with the stories of those who came before us. Whether it’s indulging in a hearty bowl of oatmeal, savoring the complex notes in a well-aged cheese, or simply engaging in dialog about food with friends, there is always a piece of history on our plates waiting to be appreciated.
