Seamus Heaney HomePlace Café,
45 Main Street,
Bellaghy,
Magherafelt.
028 7938 7444.
[ seamusheaneyhome.comOpens in new window ]
I WAS sitting having a drink in a café in Derry – this must have been 2013, maybe 2014 – when a man on his way out stopped to say hello. Not an unusual thing to happen anywhere, and certainly not in Derry.
We chatted for a minute or so, about the weather, about nothing, and then he told me he was a poet. He mentioned the title of his recently-published collection, and then we said our goodbyes.
A perfectly ordinary man talking to another perfectly ordinary man, but I thought then and still think now that this was a conversation that probably couldn't have taken place in any other country than Ireland.
In all likelihood I've talked to or sat near many poets before, but never has anyone just come out and told me that's what they were. No embarrassment, no sense of apology or diffidence in this land of words and music and poet-presidents.
Seamus Heaney died in August 2013, just over a year after I moved to Derry. I'm not Irish, and I wasn't well-enough acquainted with his work to appreciate his greatness.
But I appreciated and was warmed by the outpouring of grief on news of his death, was struck by the number of people who were affected by it. Not many countries would mourn the passing of a poet, but Ireland had lost treasure, and I was glad to live in a land where poetry was treasured.
The Seamus Heaney HomePlace is in Bellaghy. It is a building that both belongs in its location and stands out. It is both cool and full of heart, distant and warm, passionate and to one side. It is packed with Heaney's treasure, and holds onto the man and the poet tightly.
We have long meant to visit, and finally decided that Mother's Day would be the perfect occasion. Unfortunately, a sick daughter meant my wife – who loves Heaney – couldn't go, but my brother and I could. Pretty selfish, now I think about it, but there we go. Or there we went.
Confession time. The reason I was so keen to dismiss a loved one's sickness wasn't the poetry, but the café, which had been enthusiastically recommended to me.
My excuse is I'm just an ignorant Scouser, and the closest I ever get to poetry is football chants (if you're ever short of a rhyme for Kopite, just give us a shout).
Turned out I wasn't the only one drawn to the HomePlace by the café. When we arrived, we were met by a few lonely traybakes sitting lost in the cabinet, and a blank stare from the server when I asked for the menu. Johnny, the chef, came out to explain.
A hastily re-arranged SDLP conference had cleaned them out a day or two before, leaving a couple of sandwiches and a rocket leaf. I think the L might stand for Locust.
Now, I've never given the impression of being under-nourished. But, nevertheless, Johnny took pity on us and went back into the kitchen to see what he could do.
And he did good. Out from the kitchen, he reappeared with a beef stew and a cheese wrap. The beef stew, while not the ideal thing for a hot Spring day, was, nevertheless, lovely – rich, tasty, packed with tender beef, sweetened by soft carrots and potatoes, accompanied by deep wheaten bread.
The cheese wrap was, in fairness, much more than a simple cheese wrap, and it was absolutely delicious, full of creamy, delicately sour goats' cheese, and dancing with sharp and sweet beetroot chutney, courtesy of Annie's Delight, which was just beautifully balanced. If fans of Michael Jackson are wondering, Annie is much more than okay.
Lunch finished, we skipped the exhibitions and headed back to Derry, a full stomach suddenly eliciting concern for my sick daughter.
Nestled among the exhibition rooms, at the heart of the building, with a terrace overlooking the village, this is a delightful café. I'll come back for the poetry. And for the new menu, bringing exciting additions.
Between my finger and thumb, the squat fork rests. I'll dig in with it.
THE BILL
HomePlace beef stew, with farmhouse wheaten - £6.00
Goats' cheese wrap, with red onion, Annie's Delight beetroot chutney, fresh rocket - £5.00
Dirty fries, with chilli jam and cheese - £3.00
Diet Coke - £1.80
Blood orange San Pellegrino - £1.80
Total: £17.60
