When returning home to Cork I always like to go for a leisurely stroll through the English Market. Whether I am buying produce or not I am perpetually drawn to those victual-laden passages; I do not feel as if I am home until I have fulfilled this ritual. This could be due to the fact that it has been around since 1788 – a constant part of Corkonian life, surviving famine, revolution, fire and all the other events we have had to endure in our enthralling history – or just because I like good food. I am often asked where the name comes from; a question I cannot answer. It has had various names over the centuries, from Princes Street Market to Root Market; however the origin of the current name is lost in history.
I often come to the English Market on a Saturday in pursuit of ingredients for our family’s traditional Sunday fry up. I always begin at Landon’s, who specialise in bacon and have more varieties than one would think possible. It is a hard choice to decide the type of bacon you will want the following day, but one I enjoy making. It would make sense to get the eggs next, seeing as they are in the next stall, but I never do. There is no purpose in the direction I take, I walk aimlessly stopping when I please – perhaps this is why I find the market so relaxing.
