I just asked Terrell a question via e-mail. Does he think corned beef hash is a Northern thing? By the way, here’s a picture of Terrell. Pretty cute, huh? Here’s why I wonder if it’s a Northern thing. We have these cooking teams at church that make breakfast every Sunday morning. And I remember a few years back, one of the teams made corned beef hash. Well, you would have thought they’d put dog poop out on the counter. Nobody would touch it. My team is doing breakfast tomorrow morning and we’re having the usual – eggs, sausage, cream gravy, grits, biscuits – and a few specials, hash brown casserole and chorizo quesadillas (decidedly not Southern, but truly delicious).
But I digress. I just love corned beef hash. But not the kind you make from scratch. I like the kind in a can that looks like cat food before you cook it. I know, I know. I can’t remember the first time I made it, but I remember when I perfected it – right after Mark and I got married. You know that newlywed bliss that causes you to not give a flip how you look anymore and gain 30 pounds? Well, I’d make a can of corned beef hash with English muffins slathered in butter and blackberry jam and Mark and I just sat in bed and ate it. That made us so happy.
I want you to try this. You will resist in the beginning, I’m sure. But just trust me. First of all, you take a diced onion and cook it in a nonstick skillet with some vegetable oil until it turns translucent. Then you take a can of corned beef hash and put it in the skillet. No need for any more oil or butter. You will see in just a few minutes that there is more fat in a can of corned beef hash than Oprah’s lost in 17 diets. Pretty soon, the fat will start overtaking the corned beef stuff. Don’t despair. Just mash it down and let it go. It will start to get brown on the bottom. When it does, start to flip it in sections around the skillet. But don’t stop and just eat it. You need to flip it over and over until the whole pan is full of brown crispy bits. Then you are done.
I know that some people eat corned beef hash with poached eggs and I’d truly like to do that because I also loved poached eggs. But Mark is not a fan of runny egg yolks unless they’re topped with hollandaise sauce, in which case the two sticks of butter in the sauce overtake his resistance to runny egg yolks.
I am not brave enough to make corned beef hash for my fellow parishioners at St. Paul’s. But I will confess to you that I have a can sitting in my cupboard right now. And tomorrow night, it may be breakfast for supper. I don’t care if it’s Northern or not.