Celtic Classic Weekend…Slainte!

This past weekend I went to one of my favorite places…the Bethlehem Celtic Classic! The Celtic Classic is the largest free Celtic fest in North America and it is honestly just so much fun.  I love fests of any sort (unfortunately I missed the Italian American Fest that is a normal stop for me this time o’ year, but grad school interrupts. Damn papers.), but Celtic fests have to be my favorite.  In my opinion, there is nothing better than good beer, good music, men in kilts, and all things Celtic, really.  I should just take a hop, skip, and a jump over the pond already and set up shop in Ireland (or Wales. Or Scotland.)

If I can’t make it to Ireland, Bethlehem could get the job done in the meantime.  Bethlehem, PA is a historic town that’s main income used to be steel.  It was settled by the Moravian’s and now hosts Moravian College and Lehigh University.  The town itself is adorable.  I really don’t know much about it other than I love it.  The Hotel Bethlehem is where my dream wedding would take place.  Everything is Celtic, slightly pagan, and has this old world charm that is missing in so many modern towns.  I love any place with brick sidewalks, old ruins, and that earthy feel that is so hard to find in my congested hometown.  I feel like when you are in Celtic regions, you can feel a connection to the earth.  Maybe I am imagining it or maybe I’m descended from faeries.  I guess we’ll never know, but I’m going with faeries.

So, let’s just go through all the great things that were at the fest this weekend.  First, the food.  I know Ireland and Scotland aren’t exactly known for their food (haggis anyone?), but Shepard’s pie is honestly one of my favorite foods.  I know there is a “big” hooplah over whether or not beef or lamb goes in Shepard’s pie, but I like beef.  Tar and feather me if you must.  Lamb’s are just so cute and I have a hard time eating adorable things.  Also, I just haven’t really had the opportunity to try it. Maybe if someone wants to make it for me, I’ll try, but I don’t want to spend money in case I don’t like it.

Second, and this one is verra obvious, the alcohol.  I’m not a whisky drinker (maybe I’ll get there one day), but I do love me some beer.  I especially love me some Smithwicks.  I love it even more when there is just a trailer filled with it.  I will never understand the people who get Miller Lite (my go to cheap beer, not knocking it), when Smithwicks is available for the same price.  Guinness was obviously on tap, as well, but one more dollar.  As I like to say, Guinness is like eating bread and Smithwicks is like the best milk you’ve ever had.  Maybe not exactly, but it works for me.  Slainte!

Third thing, the music.  I love Celtic rock.  Again, it goes back to the feeling of being connected to the earth and I really don’t think you can beat that.  I love bagpipes and there were plenty of pipe and drum bands marching around playing.  The highlight of the music though was Jamison.  Jamison played traditional Celtic rock songs and put a Celtic spin on some rock and pop classics.  The energy of those guys though was what I’m really writing home about.  They can perform, they can get the crowd going, and they do not stop.  I watched them twice yesterday and I’m probably going to start following them around the coast.  If you want good music and an entertaining show, you definitely want Jamison. Alabama said it best, you gotta have a fiddle in the band, and they do.

So let’s talk shopping.  I love to shop and this place has some of the best vendors of any fest I’ve been to.  I hate all the cheap IRELAND t-shirts that most people have and try to claim that they are actually Irish.  It looks like a Claire’s during March.  I don’t want fake St. Paddy’s Day stuff.  I want to buy actual things from Ireland.  So after walking through the entire fest and debating whether my purchase would be jewelry, pottery, or clothing, I settled on a gorgeous emerald green wool shawl from Ireland.  I have a rule that if a stranger tells me I should buy something/look good in something during my deliberation stage, then I need to buy it.  Well, I put the shawl on to learn how to wear it and a lady told me it looked beautiful on me. So I bought it.  It’s the cross that I bear.

So the final favorite part of the fest, which I know you’ve all been waiting for, is the Highland Games.  Every time I see these 6’5 wonders of men, I just fall in love with this sport even more.  I got a spot right in front for the caber toss, which is my favorite event, and cheered on the athletes.  Now, I learned from talking to one of the athletes, that the Bethlehem games is the hardest throwing competition to get into, so these guys are the best of the best from this side of the pond.  There were multiple perfect throws, which is impressive every time it happens.  These guys can also put on a show.  Maybe Scotsmen are just born showman, but I’ve never been to a Games where the athletes weren’t also hysterical to watch.  My favorite part of the Bethlehem games is the meet and greet following.  I just like to stand among Highland athletes because I feel so short.  At 5’9, I am not a short woman and I rarely get to look up at men, but standing among those giants was a wonderful feeling that I do not often get.  I bent one of the younger and very attractive athlete’s ear for a while (he was very nice and told me all about the Games), but eventually I needed to move over and let the kids get pictures with him.  It was lovely while it lasted.

All in all, it was a lovely day.  I went home after and rode the Celtic wave a little more and watched the mid-season finale of Outlander.  Days do not get better than that.  Unfortunately, the Celtic fest season is over for now, but until next summer, I will just live knowing that I will actually be studying in Scotland next summer, which is pretty much better than anything I’ve done before.  So, here’s to my health and yours.  Slainte!

Apparently I like small towns in Eastern Pennsylvania…

This week has brought me to two small towns along the the far side of the Delaware.  Now, I will admit that being from New Jersey, I’m not a huge fan of Pennsylvania, mostly due to their drivers. New Jersey is known for our “bad” driving, but the truth is that we are not bad drivers, we just go faster than you and you can’t keep up.  What Pennsylvania drivers do that irks us beyond belief is go too slow in the fast lane.  If you can’t keep up we understand, not everyone can hang with us, but get out of the left lane.  Where we get the bad reputation from, is when you are going too slow and we come up behind you pissed because you won’t move over.  If you can’t go at least 75, just move over, simple as that and everyone can be friends.  

So, it takes a lot for me to admit that I like anywhere in Pennsylvania.  I know it is a huge state and probably has some decent drivers, but it makes my proud New Jersey skin crawl to ever imagine having to slap a PA plate on Heidi (Heidi is my red Jetta).  Heidi looks better with yellow.  There are three places in Pennsylvania I could live though, and though I would still get a sinking feeling in my stomach every time I didn’t see a plate on the front of Heidi, I could probably happily enough live there because they are all close enough to the Jersey border that I could still go back to the good side with little trouble and get my gas pumped for me.  Those three places are as follows: Bethlehem, New Hope, and Yardley.  

Today I will be discussing Yardley. Bethlehem will get its own post come September when I trek up there for the annual Celtic fest that I go to every year in hopes of meeting my kilt-clad future husband.  New Hope I will do another day because I am too long-winded to write about two places and have you still interested twenty minutes later.  Tomorrow is another day. 

Thursday, my friend suggested that we take a trip (it is a whopping 15 minutes away from me, Delaware river crossing included), to grab a beer at her new favorite brewery, The Vault. She needed to get her growler filled and figured it was as good a time as any to stay for some taste testing (how was she going to know what to fill her growler with?).  I haven’t been to Yardley in a few years, and even then I was just at my friend’s apartment, so I didn’t really see the area.  Driving through Yardley just makes me drool and question, “What do these people do for a living?”.  Yardley is basically old mcmansions. Beautiful, historic, pillar-clad, mcmansions (some just regular old mansions).  Again, what do the residents of Yardley do for a living?! A lawyer friend of mine lives there, so I guess that answers that question.  I suppose the only way I’m living in Yardley is if I meet a lawyer or doctor.  Fingers crossed. Oh, a kilt-clad lawyer/doctor maybe? 

This post isn’t about me meeting a doctor though, it is about how adorable Yardley is. I like any town that boasts a Main Street.  You know it is going to be cute.  Well, Yardley doesn’t let you down and it is especially nice because the surrounding area is nicer than you will ever be able to afford. After trying to find parking (there was plenty, I was just in a lot that I couldn’t park in, but ten feet away I could park in an adjoined lot – freaking Pennsylvania), we made our way across Main Street to The Vault.  I really enjoyed it.  I’m always wary of pizza from any state that isn’t New Jersey (even New York State is iffy, you can only be confident in New York City), but we ended up getting a Brown Sugar, Buffalo sauce, and prosciutto pizza.  Being a writer, I hate defaulting into uneducated and grammatically unsatisfying descriptions, but sometimes, OMG is the only thing that can be said.  Well, OMG that pizza was amazing.  Now, it wasn’t pizzeria pizza, it was more flatbread fancy-schmancy stuff, but it was fantastic.  I washed it down with the Blonde that was on tap and the Centennial Pale Ale.  I’m a beer person.  I don’t normally like overly hoppy beer, so I tend to shy away from Pale Ale’s, but I like bitter beer, so occasionally I find ones that I like.  I had a Cornish Pale Ale in London that was to die for.  This Centennial Pale Ale was equally as delicious. I rarely drink an IPA.  Sorry Hanson, Mmmhops might not be on my favorites list (don’t worry, your music is!!), I’ll still try it though.  I did like the Blonde a little bit better though.  The growler got the Blonde.  

Let’s also touch on the live music! I love a place that has live music and no cover.  Maybe there is a cover on the weekend, I really don’t know, but Thursday night there was no cover.  I would consider Triumph a pretty solid competitor to the Vault, and they always have a cover and I despise that, $5 or not.  Now, I don’t mind throwing the band a few bucks, but I’d rather just give it directly to them.  Hopefully that entire $5 is going to them and the establishment isn’t skimming some off the top.  Well, back to the matter at hand.  There wasn’t a cover, but there was live music.  Apparently they have a lot of jazz there too, which is a nice change of pace to the normal bar.

I’m planning on making The Vault a normal spot; hopefully it will live up to my expectations on the weekend.  Maybe that’s where I’ll meet my rich husband.  I’ll keep you updated.