THE NEW IRISH: Irish cuisine may fall short of expectations, but for one chef the financial rewards help to compensate, reports Carl O'Brien

Gediminas Gruzauskas, a Lithuanian chef who works in Mallow, in Co Cork, is not a bit impressed by Irish food. "There is so much fast food here, and it is horrible: chips, gravy, burgers," the 27-year-old says in disapproving tones. "In Irish kitchens there is more fatty food. You have carveries in pubs, which is not so healthy, with lots of cholesterol. . . . There should be more healthy options."

He enjoys his job and has great fun with his colleagues, but he doesn't hold back from criticising the lack of choice when it comes to eating out. "In Lithuania you could go out at around 10 p.m. to pubs or restaurants, and there is a massive choice of them serving good food up to midnight. They are not crowded; there are lots of seats. Could you get something in Mallow at that time? No."

And he doesn't stop there. The chef also works as a doorman in his spare time, and he isn't overly enthusiastic about Irish social life. "It is much better in Lithuania. Mallow is a small town without much entertainment. Cork has nothing that you cannot get in Lithuania."

So there it is. An unvarnished account of Irish cuisine and social life. But Gruzauskas's comments also reflect a deeper truth among much of Lithuania's migrant-worker community. The 2,000-plus Lithuanian workers who pick mushrooms, work in hotels or toil away in busy kitchens may not be keen on some aspects of Irish culture. But it matters little. For most of them their main concern is to make as much money or amass as much experience as possible before they return home.

"Most of them are hungry to work whatever hours they can get," says Sergey Turrutin, editor of Nasha Gazeta, a Russian-language newspaper published in Dublin. "They might be offered work of 40 hours a week, but they'll try and get anything from 60 to 80 hours if it is possible. . . . Most of them are single or couples, here to earn money and send it back to their families or parents."

Eastern Europeans and Russians dominate this area of the labour market. Last year alone almost 8,500 work permits were issued to Latvians, Lithuanians, Poles, Ukrainians and Russians, including more than 3,000 renewals. They are concentrated in agriculture, meat plants, catering and hotels and restaurants. Many, such as doctors or engineers, are overqualified for the work; they leave their high-status jobs to take lower-ranking positions here, which often pay more.

Turrutin says, however, that many are misled about the nature of the jobs by recruitment firms eager to paint a positive picture of working and living in Ireland. "In places like Moldova, for example, you might earn €20 a month, but here you can earn 50 times that. But I would say the majority do not know what they are getting in to, especially with the cost of living here."

Reflecting the numbers arriving here in recent years, Russian and Eastern European food shops have sprouted up around the country.

Surrounded by tins of canned vegetables, tinned meat and loaves of rye bread in his shop in Rush, in north Co Dublin, Vladimir Yemets, manager of Gastronom, says demand for traditional food is growing. "We knew there were a lot of people concentrated here from Eastern Europe, working on farms in the area. That was why we set up here," he says.

His shop is an unofficial gathering place for Lithuanians, Latvians and Estonians who work in the area; their countries' accession to the EU is hugely significant for them, he says. "I think it makes their lives here much easier. Some may have been here illegally, or they didn't have the proper documents. I think now that everyone is here legitimately there will be much less exploitation and more recognition of things like the minimum wage and rights."

Surveys of migrant workers, especially those from Eastern Europe, have shown that exploitation, whether in the form of late payment, compulsory overtime or payment below the minimum wage, is disturbingly common.

Research commissioned by a range of groups, including IBEC and ICTU, concluded: "The study suggests that migrant workers do not experience a strong support infrastructure. . . . None of those interviewed had received materials in their own language. Knowledge of their rights and obligations in the Irish workforce was weak, uneven or erroneous."

Yemets is hopeful, however, that enlargement will help to reverse the trends. "It was like people were living on different levels. If you were a foreign worker before, because of the system you didn't feel like an equal human being to the locals. At least now we are citizens."

He also doubts whether there will be a big increase in numbers coming to work and live in Ireland, because of its high costs. "Initially, maybe people will come, but I don't think it's that easy to have a good job and have a normal life, because of the dramatic difference in the cost of living."

Churches are also seeing changes as the number of Lithuanians living and working here increases. At the church of St Peter and St Paul in Harold's Cross, in Dublin, last month, hundreds of people flocked to the first celebration in Ireland of a Russian Orthodox Easter liturgy.

Father Michael Gogoleff, who is based in the former Church of Ireland building, estimates there are now about 10,000 Orthodox Christians in the Republic, with parishes in Cork, Galway and Monaghan.

He estimates that the Dublin parish alone welcomes 13 nationalities, the great majority from EU accession states. They also have a primary school with 35 pupils. That figure is expected to increase to 60 next year.

Unlike many of those living and working here, Slava Beskhmelnitskii, who moved to Ireland about 11 years ago and is a tour guide for Russian speakers visiting Ireland, has no plans to leave. A former military pilot, he was offered a job by Aeroflot as an adviser in Ireland. He decided to jump at the opportunity, despite knowing "absolutely nothing" about the country.

"When I came here I remember that the weather seemed all the same, winter and summer," he recalls. "I just remember friendly people."

Beskhmelnitskii says there were thought to be only 60 or so Russian speakers when he arrived. Now there are close to 20,000. But the entrepreneur, who founded the Russian-Irish Business Club, which promotes business and cultural contacts between the two countries, says there have been big changes in Ireland during that time.

"People here work 50 per cent harder now than back then. Women are being pushed out to work. I think in 30 years we will look back and regret this."

Such changes in Irish society are a repeating pattern among foreigners who have been living here for the past decade, especially when it comes to the distance between migrant workers and the community.

Although migrant workers tend not to mix with Irish people - because of work commitments and language barriers, according to some - Beskhmelnitskii says the groups have much in common. "I am Russian, but I am now more Irish. I find it easier to connect with Irish than Russians. . . . My wife is a lot more Irish than me, and I would say my 14-year-old daughter is 70 per cent Irish." He adds: "I'd listen to Irish folk music rather than Russian."

And the ultimate compliment he could pay to Ireland? "I would drink whiskey rather than vodka," he smiles.