As I prepared to embark on the corned beef and cabbage pilgrimage, I was pondering how very difficult it can be to make corned beef actually look appetizing. Is it any wonder that the above version hides out inside a can until the cash has been exchanged?
Settle down; I am not serving canned corned beef—just because I like Jell-O doesn’t make me that scary and misguided. However, I am considering departing from the unfortunately named “Boiled Dinner,” and opting to make some nice crispy roasted potatoes, rather than sending them to bathe with cabbage. If St. Patrick is that offended by a little olive oil, I don’t know how he could have affiliated himself with the Vatican.
Just in case you haven’t bothered (lazy reader syndrome) or can’t (NEEDS readers syndrome) read the copy on the ad, I have to quote some of my favorite portions:
“Everybody’s happy when the mastermind that plans the menus remembers Libby’s Corned Beef!
The family rejoices! Families have a way of being pleasingly outspoken in their approval of this mild corned beef—mild, yet rich-flavored.
She rejoices—the mastermind, that is. Nothing to do but chill the can in the ice-box, then slice the firm, tender meat.”
Moo0-hooo-ha-haa! The menu mastermind strikes again! Cabbage, schmabbage! We’re having peach halves with maraschino cherries as our side dish! Excuse me while I go and slice that firm, tender meat.