The fundamental problem with Irish hospitality is the shameful lack of moderation and restraint. As a wee lad visiting friends and relatives in rural Ireland I still have torturous memories of being subjected to unwieldy amounts of hospitality. I remember the pre-visit strategy where my parents would warn us kids not to say 'yes' to any form of refreshment. This rarely worked as my Mum would eventually be forced into submission of 'just a cup of tea' and before long the mountain of sandwiches were in front of us. The amount of butter on these sandwiches was criminal verging on manslaughter. Thick dollops and wedges of artery clogging butter that made me want to vomit on the spot. My Dad would lean over and whisper to us - "Yiz better feckin' finish those sandwiches now, 'cos we don't waste food around here."
To this day, I still gag at even the thought of butter and I eat only dry toast. Scarred for life at an early age by the brute force of Irish hospitality.
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