Good Eater

Mary has a tint of red in her hair; it actually looks strawberry blond in certain lighting. When I mention it to my Mom, she tells me that my Grandpa 'Red' would have loved her. Of course he would have. And it makes me think of her other qualities that would have made him smile: her chubby thighs, her translation of hugs and kisses, and the fact that she is already a good eater.

Growing up, he classified me as such. With the exception of meatloaf, I didn't discriminate against meals - especially the heirloom recipes served at family gatherings. Sure, I had preferences, but with the promise of dessert on the other end, I always carried the badge of a clean plate.

Aunt Dee's annual St. Patrick's Day dinner was no exception. Injected with a quarter dose of Irish blood, I was a champion chewer when it came to corned beef, cabbage and Irish Soda Bread. Following dinner, I'd find a seat next to my Double G and gloat about the head of cabbage I polished off as he laughed with loving approval. 'That's my girl. Always a good eater.'

As soon as Mary got her chompers, I had sensed that she was going to be a good eater too. But after this weekend, one of the most delicious ones we've had in a while, I feel like she cemented her claim to the title.

Our household theory is that Mary eats what we eat; and she sits down to dinner when we do. So far, she hasn't refused a thing. She ate all of her mushroom risotto on Friday night. She was likely showing off for Tess, but on Saturday she nearly ate a whole breast of chicken. On Sunday morning, she showed our friend Jess how she brunched. And on Sunday night, she would have made her Irish Grandpa very proud as she noshed on her first slice of corned beef. Definitely a good eater.

I'm pretty sure my Grandpa's Irish eyes were smiling down on Mary, his little leprechaun yesterday.

 Lo.

Corned Beef

1 3-pound Corned Beef Brisket, brined.
1 can beer
1 onion, cut in eighths
2 carrots, cut in thirds
2 celery stalks, cut in half
1 shallot roughly chopped
Enough water to submerge corned beef
1/4 cup brown sugar
1 small head of cabbage, cut into eighths
8 small red potatoes

In a large Dutch Oven, combine water, beer, vegetables and corned beef. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to low and let simmer for 4-5 hours.

Remove the Corned Beef from the Dutch Oven, scraping away any larger chunks of fat that might remain. (I had to do this on the underside.) Set the Corned Beef aside, covered in aluminum foil. Strain out the vegetables and fat from the liquid.  Add cabbage and potatoes to the leftover liquid, bring to a boil again and then reduce heat to low, simmering at a gently rolling boil for 45 minutes or so.

Meanwhile, about 10 minutes before ready to serve, heat oven to Broil. Cover the top of the Corned Beef with brown sugar then broil on high for 5-7 minutes. Careful to watch it because the sugar will caramelize and then burn quickly. Cut on the diagonal grade and serve with potatoes, cabbage and Irish Soda Bread.

The Corned Beef Void

While Thanksgiving at our house brought turkey and gravy, Easter at Grandma's brought ham with raisin sauce, and Barry birthdays throughout the South Hills brought Aunt Joyce's layer cakes and ice cream, the double holiday of St. Patrick's Day and Cousin Ryan's birthday at Aunt Dee-Dee's house had the all-time winningest combination: Corned beef, cabbage, boiled potatoes, and a basket full of Irish Soda Bread. (Oh, the Irish Soda Bread.)

It might have been the Irish in me, or Aunt Dee-Dee's exquisite skill at crafting the ultimate feast, or perhaps it was Double G's proud smile and assuring, 'that's my girl,' as I filled up my plate with a second round of cabbage; but regardless, the annual Barry corned beef bash was highly anticipated and slowly savored by me. My favorite meal.

Sadly, while I was able to come home at turkey time in college, I wasn't able to make it for St. Patrick's Day, which initiated a streak of being corned beef-less for too long. I was never without Soda Bread though. Thankfully, around this time of the year, I could always expect a sugar-topped loaf in the mail from my Mom. 

This year, the void was finally filled. Thanks to a new tradition - the double holiday of St. Patrick's Day and Ellie's birthday - the epic gaseous combination reached my belly and satisfied.

Yesterday, after Naperville's parade, the most dire 16-mile run ever, and 40 minutes in the oven, Peter and I biked over to Claire and Trent's house, gift and Irish Soda Bread in tow, for a wonderful celebration of one year gone by and the Irish in all of us.

Maybe it was because of the reason, but Claire and Trent produced a feast that Aunt Dee-Dee would have lauded.

And while it wasn't the same as the lovingly prepared loafs of Aunt Dee-Dee or my Mom, the Irish Soda Bread I brought was a hit. And took me right back to Piedmont street where I know the Barry family was celebrating yesterday.

Because there are no leftovers, I'm thinking I should bake myself another loaf right now.

Lo.

Irish Soda Bread 

Adapted from Bon Appetit

2 cups all-purpose flour

5 tablespoons sugar

1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder

1 teaspoon salt

3/4 teaspoon baking soda

3 tablespoons butter, chilled, cut into cubes

1 cup buttermilk

2/3 cup raisins

Directions

Preheat oven to 375°F. Prepare baking pan by greasing with butter.

Whisk together flour, 4 tablespoons sugar, baking powder, salt, and baking soda in large bowl. Add butter. Using a pastry blended or your fingertips, mix together till coarse meal forms. Add buttermilk and gradually stir into dry ingredients until blended. Mix in raisins.

Transfer to prepared pan. Drop the pan on the ground a couple times to level the dough out. Sprinkle dough with remaining 1 tablespoon sugar.(This is what makes the best part of the bread.)

Bake bread about 40 minutes or until loaf is brown on top. Cool bread in pan 20-30 minutes. Remove, cut into slices, and serve. It's best warm on the first day, but makes excellent leftovers or a gift to a hungry lacrosse player with a craving for the best quick bread ever.