A couple of weeks ago, I thought I’d take a shot at some quintessentially Irish (or Irish-American anyway) cuisine. Why not? It was St. Patrick’s Day – tis the season and all that.
So…corned beef. Food of the gods.
We briefly entertained the thought of actually corning our own beef, but upon further reflection we decided that that might be a little advanced for a neophyte such as me. After some scouring of cookbooks and the internet, we found some recipes that we liked and sort of mashed them together, leading to a recipe that was ours and ours alone.
And not to brag, but it was freaking delicious.
As anyone who has read my work with any sort of consistency can tell you, I live my life in a state of semi-arrested development. While in many ways, I appear to be a fully functioning adult, there are a few grown-up things that I just never mastered.
Cooking, for instance.
That’s right – I am a man who has somehow managed to wander into his 30s without ever having learned how to cook. I’m not talking bag/box/can cooking – I’m a man-child, but even I can swing boiling water and operating a can opener. No, this is about such mystical dark wizardly terms as “ingredients” and “recipes.” This is about learning, slowly but surely, how to prepare a meal that doesn’t involve Chef Boyardee or Papa Gino.
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