Among folk with Ulster roots I've met in America and Canada, the elaborate breakfast called Ulster Fry has become a Sunday morning specialty, something to be indulged in as a form of nostalgia. Perhaps even in my city neighbourhood, the fry-up was already a form of nostalgia. Most people I knew were a few generations removed from the farmhouse, but they continued to eat like farmers who could expect to do the work it takes to burn off a 6000-calorie meal by teatime.
Old habits die hard in Northern Ireland.
He could make the fry-up himself if he had to, eating it directly from the skillet if mam wasn't looking. The tradition is alive and well in Ulster, I was happy to discover on a recent visit. Nothing said 'welcome home' so much as rashers, eggs, sausage and pudding slices nestled among wedges of fadge and farls. Mam made her own fadge and farls, and you can, too. All Rights Reserved.