It would be far too easy to make his nationality central to his shtick, but that’s not how London works tend to lean heavily on their national identity. This trait comes in many forms: loud declarations about the city’s inadequate Guinness ; performative despair about the dearth of Tayto crisps and Barry’s Tea; congregating in areas of the city deemed sufficiently Gaelic (this was once Kilburn and Camden but the migration to Hackney and Clapham is all but complete).
The instinct is largely harmless. Though if unchecked it can slip into a kind of self-parodied auto-paddy-whackery. Nonetheless, I understand the impulse. Nationhood matters to people. Just ask the French: their language watchdog, the Académie Français, is so patriotic that it has at least once suggested that the growing use of English vocabulary in France could disrupt the social fabric of the entire country. Or perhaps think of the Italians and their fiercely dogmatic position on the constituent ingredients of a carbonara (And there are, of course, the English football fan
London National Identity Guinness Tayto Crisps Barry's Tea Self-Parodied Auto-Paddy-Whackery