Le Petit Pois:  in  an old stone building at the end of lane off Victoria Place in Galway city

There’s nothing about the sign for Le Petit Pois that says cool or hip. It’s a cartoonish string of multicoloured peas jumping out of a pod. Glance(...)

Ballymaloe Relish

When you step out of the car there’s nothing about the 1960s brown brick and galvanised building that says “country house cooking”. But the ai(...)

We should really call it the Pottolenghi Luck Club. It’s the occasional pot-luck gathering where a bunch of women each arrives to someone’s house with(...)

Product of the crash: Tesco, SuperValu and Dunnes Stores  have lost out to Aldi and Lidl. Photograph: Simon Dawson/Bloomberg

We see the United States as the cradle of our supermarket culture, but there’s an Irish angle. It was the son of Irish emigrants who opened the doo(...)

Bastible is not another neighbourhood restaurant. It’s the best restaurant I’ve been to in Dublin this year.

My husband hates me. Well, not me exactly. But here in a room painted bottle green, he hates what I (and others) am about to do to his dream restau(...)

No cheesemonger ever forgets splitting their first wheel of Parmesan. We had ordered a set of short, wooden-handled knives and they had duly arrived by post. Our first full wheel lay in wait.

Receiving a full wheel of Parmigiano into a shop is a great occasion. The scale and beauty is breathtaking. Of course our job is not to display beauti(...)

Massimo Bottura. Photograph: Getty Images

Food Month: iMag interactive - Read this article in its original version Massimo Bottura is kneading his forehead with slim brown fingers like (...)

We wouldn’t be here if they hadn’t run out of beef stew in the Peacock’s new cafe. We’d be sitting on minimalist chairs in a stark basement with a po(...)

There’s a mosaic floor and two fireplaces with baskets of logs facing each other on opposite walls. You sit on creaky rattan chairs or handsome banquette seats

A handwritten letter snags your attention while dozens of digital messages stream ceaselessly past. The author writes like she cooks, elegantly and(...)

It’s strangely fitting to feel the corners of my passport in the depths of my bag as I’m rummaging for my keys tonight. I’m back from the past,(...)