I’ve had all things Irish on my mind lately. For discretion’s sake, let’s say it’s because I went to see The Swell Season when they finished off their tour in Minneapolis a few weeks ago.
Some of you are already going bleary-eyed. You think you don’t know who The Swell Season is. You do. Glen Hansard and Markéta Irglová are the duo from the Oscar-winning film “Once” (if you still don’t know who I’m talking about, go do your Google research and come back later!).
Part of the intrigue of The Swell Season is that Glen and Markéta became a real-life couple after making the subtly romantic movie together. Then they formed The Swell Season, birthed their first album “Strict Joy”…and broke up shortly thereafter. Bummer for them, but kick-ass music for the rest of us!
To quote Steve Seel of my fave radio station (89.3 The Current) The Swell Season’s music is “stunningly cathartic stuff…the predominant atmosphere is one of…whiskey as its warmth begins to swell in the belly…and the arrangements here unfold at the rate of a single-malt intoxication each time.”
As a woman who eschews alcohol by choice, I can’t attest to the alcohol analogies, but I’m sure any imbibed Irishman would agree. What I love about The Swell Season is the push-pull passion, the pregnant-with-yearning vocals, the I-want-you-but-I-don’t-love-you lyrics, the unfulfilled desire. What’s going on between Glen and Markéta, at least musically, is my kind of relationship.
Speaking of which, being single is rarely an advantage in any area of my life—except when it comes to concerts. I have gotten into a slew of so-called “sold out” shows by requesting a single ticket. Such was the case when The Swell Season came to the State Theater earlier this month.
At the start of the show, Glen raised his cup to the crowd.
“Irish tea,” he said.
Whatever lubes up the muse, my friend! That tea must’ve taken immediate effect (or he was drunk already) because while in the middle of “Low Rising”, perhaps the most well known song on the CD, he interrupted the chorus with an impromptu cover of “Sexual Healing”, followed by a Madonna tune.
Glen is my kind of guy: cocky, fiery, and an uninhibited flirt. He’s good at what he does and he knows it. Add to this his ability to play harmonica, guitar, and sing all at once…wow. Talk about a multi-tasker. Imagine what he could do (to me) with those ambidextrous talents!
As for his former lover Markéta…let’s just say it’s no wonder she and Glen split up. He oozes charisma, while she’s a wilting wallflower. She hardly even faced the crowd more than a couple times. Granted, it’s understandable that Markéta looked a bit uncomfortable. Can you imagine having to share the stage with your ex, night after night, singing love songs you composed together? Yikes!
I’m guessing her allure is concentrated in her brain (unless you like that mousy, shrug-shouldered look in a lady). Before one of the songs that begins with “You use the truth/as a weapon/to beat up all your friends”, Glen said he adores women who can beat him in an intellectual debate. (Ahem! I know just the girl for you…)
“Inspiration is like a bird,” Glen told the audience between numbers. “If you’re looking for it, moving around and making noise, you’ll scare it away. It’s when you’re sitting still, and silent, that the bird will flutter up and sit on your shoulder. That’s how Markéta found me.”
(Note: That was paraphrased. It’s not like I spent the concert jotting down quotes in the dark!)
Though I think The Swell Season’s writing is completely and transparently autobiographical, one person who didn’t make the connection was…his subject! In an interview with Melissa Block of NPR, Markéta said of Glen, “I seem to discover a lot of stuff through his lyrics, more than through his conversations with me. I think Irish men are a bit like that.”
(Irish men…and Canadian men…and Norwegian men…and men everywhere!)
Glen gave that last show his all. He strummed that guitar so hard his fingers might’ve bled. The energy behind the songs was so intense, he was vibrating. Hell, I was way up in the balcony and I was vibrating!
I’ve decided my next (and hopefully last) husband has gotta be a guitar player or I’m going to end up having an affair. I love all things acoustic. Watching a man strum a guitar is kinda like watching him masturbate, with the spit and the sweat and the veins bulging. There’s just one difference: I get aroused watching a man make music. Watching a man jerk off? Not so much.
Transitioning from one appetite to another…I’ve been told that the only thing Irish men like more than sex and booze is eating. So, in honor of Glen’s down-to-Earth, granola nature, I made Eat Me, I’m Irish Bread. I’ve had this recipe on my honey-do list since St. Patty’s Day; I don’t know what I’ve been waiting for, but on a recent chilly night I came home jonesing for something hearty and warm and (in the absence of an Irish man to call my own) this totally hit the spot. (BTW, if you haven’t baked with buttermilk before…what’s WRONG with you? I’d wager it’s as addicting as Irish tea.)
This bread is hot and easy, hard on the outside, soft on the inside, slightly sweet because of the honey, and every bite is insanely mouthwatering. You don’t even need butter for this bread to taste delicious (Did I mention buttermilk? Hmm…) though many foodies, me included, think everything tastes better with butter. Slather on with gusto. This bread would probably pair perfectly with beer, too. It'd soak up all that toxicity in your gut. (I'm just saying...)
I forgot to mention the best part about this bread: No yeast required. No rising time. No waiting. From dough to loaf in 30 minutes flat. Just enough time to…get lucky! (Whilst listening to The Swell Season, naturally. Great sex CD.) From bed to bread to booze to tunes. Damn those Irishmen; they’ve thought of everything.
EAT ME I’M IRISH BREAD
INGREDIENTS
1 ½ cups white flour
1 ¼ cups whole wheat flour
¾ cup quick oats
½ cup wheat germ
2 teaspoons baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
1 pint buttermilk
½ cup milk
2 tablespoons honey
METHOD
• Preheat oven to 425 degrees. Grease baking sheet with cooking spray.
• In large bowl, combine all dry ingredients.
• In separate bowl, whisk together buttermilk, milk, and honey.
• Add liquid ingredients to dry ingredients; stir until dough forms (use wet hands if necessary to incorporate all of the flour).
• Turn dough out on floured surface; form into two small round loaves.
• Transfer loaves to baking sheet.
• Bake 10 minutes; reduce oven temperature to 400 degrees and bake 10 additional minutes.
• Remove from oven; cool a few minutes before slicing and serving.
