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Tag Archives: Google
Over the weekend, some friends and I went to Kilkenny on a pseudo-hen. The weekend was a refined affair involving afternoon tea, dinner, private screening of a movie, colossal breakfast and access to a spa. It was most pleasant. Unfortunately, there was one incident that left a black mark on the whole experience. This smear came in the form of what was is known as “Foulada”.
Foulada was first encountered on the menu of an Asian infusion type restaurant. It was described as “rose jelly, chilled milk and ice-cream”. This had to be experienced to be believed. I anticipated an authentic Asian treat. It arrived at the table and was exactly as described; jelly, milk and ice-cream. The jelly was chopped up through the – what was by now – pink milk. Shredded fruit (or carrot) provided much needed texture.
A minute or two into the exploratory investigation that was my dessert, I realised there was peanuts in it too – Foulada with peanut surprise. You probably ask why I ordered this concoction. I opted for Foulada because it just sounded too ghastly to be true. I doubted any self-respecting restaurant would put it on the menu unless they deemed it a surprise to the unsuspecting open-minded individual.
Today, I reminded myself to Google “Foulada”. I was convinced that the hotel had obviously created some botched version of an Asian delicacy. Look at my Google results. Never have I seen such sparse results for any Google search. This dessert is rare or something the hotel restaurant made up. The fourth match in the search is the hotel’s menu. How funny is that?
I was home over the weekend to visit the Mammy. The purpose of my visit was to get her up and running on the laptop I bought for her 60th.
Boyfriend did all the necessary things one must do to a new laptop. He hooked it up to the broadband and installed the software. Mum did not like the abundance of colourful wires that splayed from the laptop’s rear.
“I thought broadband was wireless. Why are there so many cables?”
We explained what a wireless router was and that she would have to buy one.
“I will buy one after my holiday in France,” she comforted us.
The laptop sat on the counter top all weekend. Occasionally, Boyfriend and I put it to use. Mum admired it from a safe distance next to the kettle.
“It really is a nice laptop, isn’t it? I like the size.”
I’m concerned the laptop has become no more than a techie addition to the various ornaments she has around the house.
Before we departed for Dublin, on Sunday, she asked Boyfriend to show her “how to get on Google”.
“I like Google,” she said in an affectionate tone.