Jill Norton is a former forest fire fighter, high school teacher, and library director.

My family attends Iowa Irish Fest downtown in Waterloo, Iowa, on Sunday. We arrive early and gain entrance in exchange for cans of food for the Northeast Iowa Food Bank. We listen to mass from the mainstage and scoot off to Jameson’s for what I imagine is the most authentic Full Irish breakfast around. That is, until last year when the establishment changed owners and mass-produced mush was served on Styrofoam plates, and this year when the meal was deemed unprofitable and discontinued altogether.

The Full Irish is an Irish mainstay: soda bread, baked beans, grilled tomato, mushrooms, rashers (linked sausages), thick bacon, eggs, and white and black pudding—which is lard, grain, spices, and blood for the black version, in a sausage-like patty. Inasmuch as food speaks to the heart, this plate of real Ireland will be missed.

No, we’re not Irish, as far as we know. We just enjoy Irish Fest. And we’ve traveled to Ireland. Before and after my travels I endeavored to learn all I could about Ireland and was fascinated, starting with the mythology. Why do we learn about Hercules but not Cúchulainn?