While slapping green icing (frosting) onto the shamrock shaped cake I had created for a St. Patrick's Day Party on Queen Anne, my thoughts wandered to St. Patrick's Day celebrations hereabouts in the past.
The time, for instance, we had an international St. Patrick's Day pro-gressive dinner, starting on Queen Anne and ending up on Magnolia, hosted by the Cohens, the Kellys, Campbells, Martinellis, Wangs and Suzukis.
Yes, we did have corned beef and cabbage - but started with sushi and bean sprouts, followed by chopped liver and motzah ball soup, lasagna followed by trifle and Dundee cake, lye cheese, tiramisu and fortune cookies, washed down by mass quantities of good Irish Guinness, sake, chianti and Mogen David Concord wine. I'll leave it to you to figure out who provided which dish.
Or another occasion, when St. Patrick's Day fell on the same day as opening night of the Seattle Opera, and when Jake O'Shaughnessy's was located in the old Hansen Baking Co. complex at the bottom of the hill (now a Larry's Market). At that time, Jake's boasted their very own singing bar tender, Bob Julian. We brought several members of the cast after the opera to join in the celebrations at O'Shaughnessy's already underway. The rendition of "Danny Boy" in four-part harmony resounded through the whole Hansen's complex, and I'm sure could be heard all the way to the Space Needle. Ah me, what a time that was.
Amidst all this fun and games, let's spare a thought for the chap who started it all, St. Patrick himself. Patrick was one of the earliest Christian saints, together with St. David, patron saint of Wales. They were linked with the Arthurian legend. In fact, in Wales, St. Patrick is claimed as a Welshman.
He actually was born in Southwestern England in the fourth century, and, believe it or not, his name was Succat. The legend goes that he was captured by Irish invaders, taken to Ireland and sold into slavery. He ended up in County Connacht, where he learned the Irish dialect. He escaped to Gaul (France), where he converted to Christianity and was ordained a priest, it is said, by St. Germans.
St. Patrick was sent to Ireland sometime after 431 to succeed St. Palladius, the first bishop of Ireland. There he proceeded to convert the populace, particularly in the then-wild West and North counties of the Emerald Isle. He was popular with not only his flock but also his superi-ors, whom he may have visited in Rome; afterward, he is said to have brought back relics to strengthen the newfound faith of his parishioners.
The shamrock was a native plant that Patrick used as a symbol of the Trinity. This so im-pressed the Irish that they subsequently adopted the shamrock as their national symbol.
St. Patrick may or may not be connected to King Arthur. Less questionable is the pilgrimage that many saints and scholars of the time, including Pat-rick as a bishop of Ireland, made to the abbey at Glastonbury in England's West Country. And here is the curious connection: Glastonbury has one of the strongest claims to the site of Camelot, the home of the Knights of the Round Table and their king.
Glastonbury goes so far back in antiquity that there is no record of it having been established as a Christian community. The strange surroundings included a moated, offshore island called Avalon, the home of worshipers of an earlier sect. Glastonbury was just there, it seems, when the earliest Christians arrived. The stories suggest Joseph of Arimathea (or his followers) fled the Holy Land with the Holy Grail and left it at Glastonbury for safekeeping.
Patrick was the most prominent saint to visit Glastonbury. Most of the stories connected with the visit are wildly exaggerated, but it is claimed that, after his long ministry in Ireland, Patrick organized the hermit monks into a more formal Christian community. He may even have died there and was buried among the brothers.
Before the ninth century, his tomb is shown at the right of the altar of the Old Wattle Church at Glastonbury. So convinced were his grieving Irish parishioners that they, too, made pilgrimages to Glastonbury and prayed at the site. The fact that they accepted the tomb as genuine, despite their natural wish to have Patrick in their own country, suggests that its credentials are strong.
Many legends surround St. Patrick. The most common is that he drove the snakes out of Ireland. Well, I hate to tell you, but Ireland - being the green, pleasant land that it is - never did have any snakes. There may have been fairies and leprechauns and pookas and banshees, with which Irish legend abounds, but no snakes. Therein hangs many a tale which we will pursue at another time.
Originally, St. Patrick's Day in Ireland was a religious holiday when people went to church services in the morning and spent the rest of the day with their families. Over the years it got mixed with the celebration for the end of Lent and became one big party that spread internationally. The party seems like a jolly good idea to me.
Incidentally, the cake was a great success! Three 8-inch-round lemon sponge cakes covered with lemon frosting, with a few drops of green food coloring.
Happy St. Patrick's Day - may the road come up to meet you, and may the wind always be at your back.
Linda Greenwald, a.k.a. Linda of London, is a longtime Queen Anne resident and consultant on all things British. And some things Irish.
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