An Ode to Corned Beef

Corned beef and cabbage: an authentically Irish meal, fit for a ginger king. That's what I thought until I stumbled upon "The History of Corned Beef". While a tasty morsel of this briny beef is definitely fit for this ginger, it's decidedly not Irish. In fact, corned beef's origins lie with the Jews right here in America. I know, I couldn't believe it either. Hungry Irish-Americans in the 19th century, looking to recreate a delicacy from their homeland, substituted Jewish brisket for the traditional but ne'er-to-be-found "bacon joint" in their holiday cooking. In this way, contemporary corned beef was born. We have, in large part, the Jews to thank.

Let's get one thing straight: I love corned beef. I love its high fat content, I love its stringy, delicate nature, and I especially love dipping it in hot, whole grain mustard. Unfortunately, I only eat it once or twice a year. This year's St. Patrick's Day celebration at Mom's house involved no green decorations, no leprechauns, and no drunk Irishmen. Just a perfectly-boiled and spiced corned beast. If someone were to taste this and tell me they "just don't like it" or "it's too fatty," I would be incredulous, to say the least, and probably feel personally offended. Simply put, if I find out you don't like corned beef, I will regard your decision-making abilities as irrational and disregard your opinion on almost all matters. That is how good corned beef really is.

Mom's method is simple. Heat a big pot of water until it's boiling. Place pre-salted corned beef into pot along with packet of "corned beef spices" (peppercorns, cloves, mustard seeds, bay leaves, and probably some other stuff). Add several large peeled onions and chopped up celery and simmer for approximately three hours. Remove meat from pot and strain out vegetables and as much of the spice mix as you can. Finally, simmer cabbage and carrots in the broth for 15 to 20 minutes. Potatoes are also a popular addition to this dish. I find that the boiled cabbage is overwhelmingly addicting and all you really need to perfectly complement the savory meatiness of the beef.

Mom began this process late in the day so the finished corned beef sat in the fridge all night long, solidifying its deliciousness. The celebration began in earnest the following day. I sprang out of bed early at 10:00 a.m. with a newly-discovered sense of youth and vigor, and a raging appetite. I had planned to reheat everything and devour it without any thought of preparing the meat, cabbage, onions, and carrots otherwise. My mom was already in the kitchen, however, in the process of putting together.....yeah, you guessed it....two, stuffed sandwiches with all the essential trimmings (sauerkraut, the meat, Swiss cheese, Russian dressing, and pumpernickel bread). She had even fired up the George Foreman Mean Lean Fat Reducing Grilling Machine! Some aloof individuals may scorn this grill with indignation, believing it to be some newfangled gimmick, a tool of convenience only suitable for the layman chef. To them I say, please, don't disparage the Foreman simply based on its cheap outer shell or your distaste for the man himself without giving it a spin first. It has its limitations, to be sure. But in the case of this sandwich, it did its job magnificently. Butter, I dare say, was neither used nor missed. After a few minutes under Foreman's heat, we removed the first sandwich. The melted Swiss was flowing like cheese lava from a Corned Beef Reuben volcano! What a sight to behold. With boiled veggies to sop up the sandwiches' entrails, it was a truly epic two minutes of consumption.