corned beef hash 

Hash.  Corn beef hash.  Yuck.  Just the sound of it puts you off eating red meat altogether.  

 

Once a relative of Gary Hennigan, a high school friend of mine, offered us some.  This relative of Gary's was over 95 years old at the time.  He would eventually live to 99 last time I saw him, and for all I know is still alive, which would put him at about 135 years old, if he is. Anyway, this old man offered us some corn beef hash straight from a can on a hot Louisiana afternoon in an un-airconditioned frame farm house of the sort you find waaaaaaaaaay out in the who-know-where in Louisiana. A place outside a town called Sadalia.  (Does every state have a town called Sadalia) Gary and I looked at each other incredulously.  The old man pushed the can across the table toward Gary.

 

"Here, have some."

 

Gary pushed it back toward the center of the table,

 

"No thank you."

 

The man pushed the can toward me.

 

"Here, you have some."

 

I pushed it back to the center of the table.

 

"No, thank you."

 

As teenage boys we were naturally hungry. Weighing in at close to 400 LBS, Gary was always hungry, but there was no way either of us was going to eat that shit.  He had to be kidding!" Push,

 

"try it,"

 

Push,

 

"No thank you."

 

Push,

 

"Try some."

 

Push,

 

"No thank you."

 

Push -->

 

Push <--

 

Push -->

 

Push <--  

 

We played table hockey with this can of corned beef that looked and smelled exactly like dog food.  Then we burst out laughing because the guy wouldn't stop offering it.  Now, the mere mention of corn beef hash in the presence of Gary Hennigan is enough to start off a whole new round of senseless girlish giggling.

 

My dad liked it too.  Out of a can.  Looks like Alpo.  Exactly like Alpo. Makes me barf.

 

But why, oh why, do they call it corned?  I mean, I get the beef part, and the hash part, but why corn?  There's no corn in there.  The reason, dear reader, and this might clear up other corn-related etymological confusion, is because "corn" is an old word meaning "little nugget thingie to eat." Same as corm.  Thus you may be reading an academic book on Egyptian art with a picture titled "Worker in Corn Field" and think to yourself, "How ridiculous.  Corn is a New World grain, Egyptians didn't have corn, you loon.  That picture clearly depicts a wheat field!"  Here, the word 'corn' refers to any small grain, even wheat or oats or millet.  Corned beef, is beef ground into little bits, like corn, which is really maize. 

 

Recently I saw an episode on Food Network's Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives where a cook takes a real corned beef roast, ground it up right in his diner, and added diced potato.  That was it.  "So that's what corned beef is trying to be!"   Ferchristssake, I had no  idea.  Why ... why ... it's so simple.  That actually looked good, noow that I see what it's supposed to be.  Corned beef!  Of course. It all became so clear.  I had a corned beef hash epiphany.  I wanted to try this.

Looks like fun. 

 

Of course, I'll improve upon it.  I used the potatoes I pre-cooked and froze yesterday. I'll put chopped onions and garlic in mine.  And I'll use those seeds they give you in the tiny bag with the roast, grind them up and toss them all in.  They're just pickling spices, mostly some kind of seeds and a few tiny clove sprigs.   Yay! I get to play with the grinder!  

 

Stays pink when you cook it, unless you fry it too long, then it turns crunchy and pink.

 

Click for biggity big shiny illuminated-with-a-slave-flash splendiforousness. 

 

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That is all.