A few days before traveling to Ireland, in preparation for being in 14 days’ quarantine, I set up an account at the local supermarket in Dungarvan and made my first foray into online grocery shopping.
Throughout the months of pandemic, I never gave up going to the grocery store – I became more adept at making thorough lists and getting what I needed quickly so I only had to go every 10 days or so.
But this was going to be different. And, because I was not sure what to expect, I thought I had better make some sort of provisions. So I sat down, and went through the online store. It took me nearly 2 hours! Finally, at the end, I had to choose a delivery time. But wait. The first available time for delivery was Monday, June 29. I was arriving on Thursday, June 25. What was I going to do for food in the meanwhile???
I knew that no restaurants were open and 4 days was a while to go without food.
As I hit the “order” button, I switched into my best Scarlett O’Hara impersonation and said, “I’ll just deal with that tomorrow. I can’t think about that now.”
Since, due to the pandemic, I had to fly into Dublin rather than the more familiar Shannon, I knew that I was facing a two hour drive from the airport to my new home in Co. Waterford. I figured that somewhere along that route, I’d pop into a convenience store and pick up a few necessities to tide me over.
Managing Quarantine
When I arrived in Dublin, I asked the immigration officer about the quarantine. To my relief, he told me that it was much the same as it had been in the States. As long as I had no symptoms of the disease I could go out for necessities, food, medical supplies. I should limit my contact with people, and when I did have to go to a store, wear a mask.
That was a huge relief, actually.
There is a nice little Spar grocery shop in Ring just down the road where I was able to get all I needed for the days before my order arrived. So I picked up some bread, milk, butter, eggs and cheese, thinking I was all set for a few days.
I did remember to pack our teapot, a saucepan, a cup, and a set of utensils – although it took an extra suitcase in order to fit it all.
My plan was to boil water in the saucepan to make tea and I could always make a hardboiled egg or soup in the same saucepan. Unfortunately, few things go according to plan.
I filled my lovely Farberware saucepan with water, set it on the burner ring, and looked at the pretty black glass-topped stove.
Digital.
Damn.
Well, touch it. See what happens.
Nothing.
Deciphering Symbols
Now there is one thing about Europe that drives me absolutely crazy. Symbols. Just give me a word. On. Off. Top. Bottom. Don’t give me arrows and symbols of little people that look like they are sitting on toilets. I cannot figure them out.
Unfortunately, because European products are made for so many different markets in a variety of countries and languages, symbols are primarily what they use. So I don’t have an on/off button on this stove, just a series of plusses, minuses, squares, and circles. And I am supposed to decipher these hieroglyphics into the ability to cook. Good luck with that.
So I poked it harder. Held my finger on the spot longer. Held two fingers down at one time. I knew it worked, because I got some red blinking symbol. But no heat. No burner. No boiling water. No food.
It was time to take a nap. I’d been up all night. Drove two hours. Landed alone in a new, albeit empty house. I was tired. Things would look better after a nap.
Three hours later, after rummaging through the kitchen cabinets, I found the directions for how to use the stove. When all else fails…
The first thing I learned is that the cooktop in Ireland is called a “hob” – which actually I had known, but forgotten.
Secondly, there was only one word written on the hob, but it was an important one.
Induction.
I’ve been cooking for a long time. But this was not a word I knew.
Apparently, it is a new, modern way of cooking more efficiently and at lower temperatures.
According to the directions: “only the area covered by the vessel on the relevant cooking zone is energised. The vessel’s bottom is recognized by the system and only this area is heated automatically.”
The problem is, Farberware isn’t “recognized by the system.”
“Your saucepan is compatible if its bottom holds magnet.” (What does that even mean????)
Farberware clearly does NOT ‘hold magnet.” So, when I tried to use said hob, a funny little blinking symbol appeared (looks kinda like a “U”) attempting to tell me that my pot was not compatible.
Which I then took to mean that the entire box of pots – of all configurations and sizes – that I took so much time to sort and ship – is ALL incompatible with the hob.
Well, I guess that’s one box I needn’t unpack when it arrives.
So my first “necessity”, along with the kettle and toaster, was a little milk saucepan. The good news is, the cover I already had fit it nicely.
And lo and behold, when I placed the “induction cooking compatible” saucepan on said hob, it worked perfectly. No more funnily blinking symbols. For now.