ʻWhere have all theflowers gone?ʼ as
the song says. Atthe end of summer
they all wither away but come the
spring they willblossom and bloom
again for another year.

Unfortunately, I canʼt say the
same thing about pork butchers,.
Where once it seemed that every
little village or town had one, now
the local pork butcher is a thing of
the past.

In years gone by, the local pork
butcher was at the centre of any
Irish community, a place to go to get
the news and chat with your neighbours.
In Ringsend, you had Gormley
ʼs on Thorncastle Street and Annie
Payneʼs on Bridge Street.

Other local pork butchers included
Streckerʼs on Sandymount
Road and Cullenʼs in Ballsbridge.
All those shops are now gone from
the area but all across the city the
same thing has happened.
Just in the last couple of years
another renowned pork butcher,
Clarkeʼs on Meath Street in the
heart of the Liberties, closed its
doors, and I am sure the list could
go on and on.

Wondering why this has happened,
I suppose the spread of fast
food outlets such as McDonaldʼs
and Chinese takeaways has something
to do with it. Pork butchers
were once a Dublinerʼs fast food–
traditional treats such as pigʼs feet,
ribs, back bones or tails were our
special meals, especially on a Saturday
night, served with a nice,
fresh crusty black loaf or turnover.
And a few nice pints later to wash
it down.

Your pork butcher was the place
to go for all kinds of specialty
cooked meats such as hazlett, collar
head and, of course, pigʼs cheek.
Pigʼs cheek was boiled for hours,
then the meat was picked off the
bones and placed between two
plates with a weight on top, then
put aside to cool and set.

This was usually sliced up for
sandwiches during the week or
served hot with cabbage and potatoes
for a nice, inexpensive dinner.
In my own family, I remember
Thursday was always the day for
ribs and cabbage. As far as I can
remember, this was a tradition my
father brought with him when he
moved here from the Liberties.

In the past, Meath Street and the
Liberties in general was a great
place to get bargains. I remember
one of my sisters would be sent
over to Francis Street for the ribs or
ʻback bonesʼ as we called them. I
can tell you, they were delicious, so
much so, I still go over to the Liberties
for ribs.

In many Dublin communities in
the not too distant past, it was common
for the locals, especially the
lads out for a few pints of a weekend,
to visit the pork butcher. Here
they would get a couple of rings of
black and white pudding and eat it
with plenty of seasoning.

Here in Ringsend, tripe was a
Saturday night favourite which I
doubt many people eat these days.
Tripe is the lining of the cowʼs
stomach, already bleached and
cooked before it leaves the abattoir.
As a youngster, like many others, I
turned my nose up at it, mostly because
of the smell. But when I did
try it later in life as a merchant seaman,
I loved it.

One of the lads on board told me
he used to eat it like a bag of chips,
walking down the street. When I
came back I did it myself, going to
Cullenʼs in Ballsbridge for a bag of
tripe and eating it wandering along
by the Dodder.

The days seem to be numbered
for the old-style pork butchers who
still make their own sausages, puddings,
brawn, or hazlett. Even today,
a pigʼs cheek is almost impossible
to get.

Honourable exceptions include
Stephenʼs on Meath Street, who
do sell some lovely stuff. I recommend
their old-style jumbo sausages.
They also sell great home-made
puddings and ribs.

Frankʼs Pork Shop on Camden
Street is probably one of the oldest
true Dublin pork butchers left.
Paddy Kelly is the butcher and his
father Jim had the business here
before him. Paddy sells the best
of everything; I usually get a nice
piece of belly pork, which is delicious.

Pictured above is Martin Kelly of
Frankʼs Pork Shop