And now, a recipe
I may be repeating myself, but here is a bare-bones version of a New England country stand-by for the colder months, Yankee red flannel hash.
First, either take the afternoon off, or have a supply of leftovers in the marked [*] categories.
Ingredients (six- eight servings)
Two medium to large chopped onions. Haydn Pearson's recipe, on which this is loosely based, called for "authoritative" onions, which is about right. Native yellow onions are best.
Three large beets, or equivalent in smaller beets. Cheaters can use canned beets.
Four large boiled potatoes,* not bakers, just large bulk Maine spuds, or equivalent in smaller ones. With or without skin, your choice.
12 oz. of ground meat.* Leftover beef or pork roast put through a hand grinder is traditional, but it works with anything ground, including veggie burger. (Add a bit more meat for a meatier texture. Not too much, though: what makes this hash stand out is that it's chiefly vegetables, as a traditional hash should be.)
Black pepper
Butter or oil for skillet.
Wash the beets and boil until the skin rubs off easily, usually about 30 minutes. It's a nice touch between skins that slide off and beets the texture of shoe leather, so be careful. Good beets make or break this dish. Reserve a cup or two of the liquid.
If you don't have boiled potatoes on hand, prepare and boil (or steam) the potatoes whilst the beets are cooking.
When the beets and potatoes are ready, chop all the vegetables together in the instrument of your choice. Unless your instrument is large, it may take a couple of passes.
Heat the butter or oil in a large, heavy skillet. Be generous: this stuff sticks.
Put the chopped meat in the skillet, followed by the chopped vegetables. Mix thoroughly, until the predominant colour is beet red. A little white is acceptable, hence the name red flannel.
Cook over medium heat until the mixture is cooked through, adding pepper to taste. Watch out for scorching: a little adds to the flavour, but too much and the whole mixture will stick to the skillet. Use the reserved beet water, no more than 1/4 cup at a time, to maintain the texture.
Serve very hot. This is traditionally a one-dish meal, but use your imagination for accompaniments.
I'm not a huge beet fan, but there's something about the mixture of flavours in this hash that makes it (IMHO) the prince of comfort foods. It also lends itself, obviously, to communal preparation.
This seems to be a close relation to a Welsh hash called bryn teg.* Those who care to compare that recipe with the Welsh translation may wonder if there's some irony in the name. Give me the beets and onions: you can keep the parsnip and cabbage.
If you Google the name, you'll discover about ten thousand variants on the recipe. This one works best around here and lends itself very well to local fall produce.
-------------------------------------
*How the author of this link made this name Irish is beyond me, but the recipe is representative.
First, either take the afternoon off, or have a supply of leftovers in the marked [*] categories.
Ingredients (six- eight servings)
Two medium to large chopped onions. Haydn Pearson's recipe, on which this is loosely based, called for "authoritative" onions, which is about right. Native yellow onions are best.
Three large beets, or equivalent in smaller beets. Cheaters can use canned beets.
Four large boiled potatoes,* not bakers, just large bulk Maine spuds, or equivalent in smaller ones. With or without skin, your choice.
12 oz. of ground meat.* Leftover beef or pork roast put through a hand grinder is traditional, but it works with anything ground, including veggie burger. (Add a bit more meat for a meatier texture. Not too much, though: what makes this hash stand out is that it's chiefly vegetables, as a traditional hash should be.)
Black pepper
Butter or oil for skillet.
Wash the beets and boil until the skin rubs off easily, usually about 30 minutes. It's a nice touch between skins that slide off and beets the texture of shoe leather, so be careful. Good beets make or break this dish. Reserve a cup or two of the liquid.
If you don't have boiled potatoes on hand, prepare and boil (or steam) the potatoes whilst the beets are cooking.
When the beets and potatoes are ready, chop all the vegetables together in the instrument of your choice. Unless your instrument is large, it may take a couple of passes.
Heat the butter or oil in a large, heavy skillet. Be generous: this stuff sticks.
Put the chopped meat in the skillet, followed by the chopped vegetables. Mix thoroughly, until the predominant colour is beet red. A little white is acceptable, hence the name red flannel.
Cook over medium heat until the mixture is cooked through, adding pepper to taste. Watch out for scorching: a little adds to the flavour, but too much and the whole mixture will stick to the skillet. Use the reserved beet water, no more than 1/4 cup at a time, to maintain the texture.
Serve very hot. This is traditionally a one-dish meal, but use your imagination for accompaniments.
I'm not a huge beet fan, but there's something about the mixture of flavours in this hash that makes it (IMHO) the prince of comfort foods. It also lends itself, obviously, to communal preparation.
This seems to be a close relation to a Welsh hash called bryn teg.* Those who care to compare that recipe with the Welsh translation may wonder if there's some irony in the name. Give me the beets and onions: you can keep the parsnip and cabbage.
If you Google the name, you'll discover about ten thousand variants on the recipe. This one works best around here and lends itself very well to local fall produce.
-------------------------------------
*How the author of this link made this name Irish is beyond me, but the recipe is representative.
Labels: recipes
posted by Uncle | 23:56
2 Comments:
I had to come back and reread this. This is more work than making brioche. As I'm the only one here who like beets, maybe I'll order this out and have keener appreciation of what it involves.
Ah yes...those hard-working Yankees. When we had this as a kid, my mother recruited both of us to grind and chop. I still think it's worth the trouble.
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