Growing up in Ireland in a Celtic family, traditions weren’t something we scheduled they were simply how life was lived. They shaped our weeks, our seasons, and our sense of belonging.
One of my favourite traditions was gathering around the table, especially on Sundays in my Granny’s house. Food was never rushed. A pot would be on the stove for hours with roast, it was filling the house with a smell that meant everyone would eventually find their way home. Meals were as much about stories as they were about food. Older relatives passed down memories, local gossip mixed with history, my Granddad was great for this and there was always laughter, even when times were hard.
Another tradition close to my heart was Samhain and the bonfire. As the nights grew darker and the air colder, the whole community would gather around a blazing fire. There was something powerful about standing together in the glow of the flames, feeling connected to the changing season and to one another. Stories were shared, sparks flew into the night sky, and there was a sense that this was a time when the old world and the new briefly touched. It was exciting as a child, but it also carried a deep respect for tradition and the turning of the year.
Gaelic football was another cornerstone of family life. Matches weren’t just sporting events they were social occasions. Weekends revolved around training sessions, local games, and county matches. The sport tied generations together, with stories of past matches and local heroes passed down like family legends.
Finally, there was the tradition of community. Neighbours looked after one another without being asked. If there was a funeral, the whole area mourned together. That quiet sense of shared responsibility is something deeply Celtic and something I still carry with me.
We as a family recently lost our Grandfather, as i am write this, i think of him.
Pan Celtic Cuisine 