Better than a pot o'gold, and twice as lucky.

I'm Irish. Of course, nobody ever believes me when I say that, because I'm normally boasting about my Italian heritage, and I usually claim Irish heritage on St. Patrick's Day (along with the rest of the entire population of the universe for some reason).
Truth is I'm a Hybrid. The running joke is that the main advantage I have being half Italian/Irish is that I can go to the pub and get $hit-faced drunk and still be sober enough to drive home and beat my wife! A rather unfair stereotype really, since I am neither married, nor do I drink and drive (you can spill your beer that way!).

But one thing I do love, and I really do L-O-V-E it, is my family's traditional dinner on St. Patrick's Day. You already know what I'm referencing don't you? Yeahhhh you do. I speak of course of the only dish that personifies Irish fare, that miraculous combination of .... ..... Oysters and Yogurt Sauce! Don't start throwing things yet, I just wanted to see if you were paying attention. No, my belowed corned beef and cabbage is the only fare I desire when the only holiday "greener" than Earth Day rolls around.

This year I invited some friends over to share in this wonderful bounty. And also marking another first for me, I made corned beef. I don't mean I went to the store and bought a corned beef and cooked it, nooooo. I mean I MADE corned beef, from scratch. Turns out it was one of the best culinary decisions I've ever made. I went to the butcher and ordered up a USDA Choice flat-cut brisket. I thought I would have to make-out with a leprechaun or lick the blarney stone to figure out how the secrets of transforming a humble and stringy brisket into a real corned beef. Turns out all it took was some salt, water, brown sugar, cloves, allspice, black peppercorns, bay leaf, and mustard seeds, and about a week in brining time. Just in case my efforts yielded a moldy, musty chunk of gross meat, I also did buy a corned beef from the store. This was an ideal time to test storebought vs. homemade.

The hardest part of making corned beef is making the brine and then waiting, and waiting, and more waiting. The internet research I did said to let my meat brine for 10 days, but I only had a week. So everyday I checked on my meaty prize in the fridge, adding icepacks to keep it nice and chilly, and giving the ziplock bags I was using for the brining a little poke or flip. Brining corned beef is like having a really lazy pet guinea pig, you have to bother it every now and then just to see if it's stil alive.

When cooking time finally came, my friends arrived and I kept them entertained with beer and netflix. I simmered the meat for about 3 hours, and then braised some new potatoes and fresh cabbage wedges in the cooking liquid.

For saucing, I put together two concoctions. I stayed away from a gravy because I figured any kind of reduction sauce would have more in common with a salt lick than a sauce. So for some creaminess and bit, I made a horseradish sauce. Literally it was equal parts of whisked mayo, sour cream, and prepared horseradish. It doesn't get much eaiser than that. The same went for my hone mustard and citrus sauce. Equal parts tangerine juice (strained), honey, and dijon mustard. That's IT.

To go with the Lord's "Bountious Goodness" (as pops would say when he says grace), I wanted some bread, but not store-bought! So I whipped up what must be one of the most simple breads on the face of this earth. Irish Soda Bread. It's basically a giant leavened "Wheat Thin-esque" cracker. Nothing but Wheat and All Purpose flour, salt, baking soda, and buttermilk. What I appreciate about it is that not only is it a dish that could preach humility to a fussy croissant, but I don't think there is any bread invented by mankind that goes better with corned beef, cabbage, and potatoes.

After the initial "Ooooh's and Ahhh's" and soaking up the adoration of my friends, the room fell silent as we all devoured both the storebought and homemade corned beef. Not being a leftover stingy-man, I sent away all but two small cuts of corned beef with my friends, all of whom were more than happy to take some home. In my estimation, that is the sign of a truly excellent dining experience. There is no bigger compliment a chef can receive than to hear only the sounds of the dish being devoured, except for the possible exception of people wanting seconds (even if it's a to-go order).

The meat was so incredibly tender, it literally nearly dissolved in your mouth. With each chewing motion, succulent juices were released from the fibers and sent every tastebud into overdrive. The spice of the meat, the tenderness of the cabbage (without being mushy) along with the fork-tender potatoes simply makes for an orchestra of flavor that could make a classical composer jealous. And both of the sauces tied all the flavors together so nicely. This dish is one that I think easily rivals that of Christmas Ham and Prime Rib. Dare I even say it? Yes I think I shall. Corned beef even stands on par with the ultimate holiday food, the Thanksgiving feast. ESPECIALLY this home-brined one.

Truthfully, I was left in awe at the quality of the homemade corned beef. So much so that I do not think I'll buy a florescent bag'o'beef from the store again. What was so different? Well, I could go into some steep analysis of all the differences, but this is just a blog, not a culinary science university. Suffice it to say that one of the corned beef roasts contained sodium chloride, sodium erythorbate, and sodium nitrite; along with a dubiously positioned "flavorings" label at the very end of the ingredients list. The other corned beef contained salt, brown sugar, cinnamon, peppercorns, mustard seeds, cloves, bay leaf, and allspice, and a touch of patience.

I will surmise that it is simply the quality and freshness of the ingredients that speak for themselves when you home brine your own corned beef. And while a REAL homemade corned beef dinner may not drive an Irishman to drink, or an Italian to domestic violence, one could say that it's "So good, make you wanna slap yo' mama!"

Oh and one more thing....the bigger the roast you brine, the more LEFTOVERS you'll have. So break out the brine and and the brisket, I've got more seriously yummy foods to concoct in the next few days.

454 recipes to go (count'em: homemade corned beef, corned beef dinner, braised cabbage, braised potatoes, sour-cream horseradish sauce,honey-mustard-tangerine sauce, and Irish soda bread)