Significant birthdays and wooden spoons

A lady should never reveal her age, I know, but for the sake of this post, I’ll let you all in on a little secret. I turned thirty last Saturday and to mark the occasion, Himself organised a swell party. The venue was never in question – anyone who knows us knows how much time we spend at L. Mulligan. Grocer – and it turns out that he and the lovely ‘Neen of said establishment had been scheming for some months to put together a delicious meal and a few surprises (including some post-dinner Twitter hashtag fun).

One of the starter platters - house-made pickles, chicken liver and Tyrconnell port finish whiskey pate, Jack McCarthy's spiced beef, rare-breed ham hock, pistachio, apricot and chicken terrine, smoked salmon daubed with Connemara whiskey. Plus the obligatory glass of Dark Arts

I love the idea of shared “picky bits” starters, and they were in abundant supply on Saturday night. Not pictured above are the slabs of Jack McCarthy’s incredible chocolate, pistachio and mint black pudding; the quail scotch eggs; TJ Crowe’s spiced Italian sausage; the selection of home-made breads, and the whiskey butter and lemon-infused rapeseed oil (from Louth!). Needless to say, there were scant crumbs left behind by the group.

The rest of the meal was just as delicious, although eating and chatting got in the way of photographing. My slow-cooked pork belly was divine (as ever), and I just about had room left for a Runcible Spoon coffee (yes really! a glorious concoction of sea salt caramel liqueur, dark chocolate liqueur, Havana rum and lots of cream) and a slice of Dark Arts chocolate cake.

It is a rare and wonderful thing to have so much good food and so many good people in the one place at the one time, and I am so thankful to Seáneen, Colin, Michael and the Mulligers/ettes for hosting a party I will remember with a beaming smile on my face well into my dotage. And as for Himself? Well, aside from being able to lay claim to a new career as a party planner, he may well have outdone himself in the romance stakes too.

A real live runcible spoon