Foodventure Fail: The Corned Beef Fiasco

As loyal readers of this blog know, Katie and I each gave up all meat for Lent. Needless to say, this is takes a lot of willpower, and there are definitely a lot of temptations along the road (I suppose that’s the point of Lent, but I’m not a theologian, merely a cook). With that said, we both agreed that over the course of Lent we could allow ourselves one indulgence, especially if it made for a good Foodventure. St. Patrick’s Day seemed like a logical time to break down, and the plan for the Great Corned Beef Experiment was hatched.

There are plenty of critics of St. Patrick’s Day. Some say that its not really Irish, others bemoan the fact that corned beef and cabbage is about as Irish as lasagna. To those people I say this: get over yourselves. Corned beef is delicious, and St. Patrick’s Day is an opportunity to celebrate the Irish in America, Katie and myself included (25% each).

Like I said, to justify breaking our Lenten commitment, the St. Patrick’s Day meat Foodventure had to be pretty over the top. Corned beef was obviously going to be on the menu, but that somehow seemed too easy. For those who have never cooked it, corned beef is the easiest thing on earth: put it in a pot, cover it with water, and boil slowly for a few hours until it falls apart. In our minds, this was selling out, plain and simple.

But what if we took it a step farther? What if we did our homework, steeled our resolve, and BRINED OUR OWN CORNED BEEF? It required lots of effort, it had uncertain probability of success, and it would have impressed the heck out of our friends. In short, it was a perfect Foodventure!

The March 2008 issue of Bon Appetit magazine featured a recipe for home-brined corned beef that had a lot of potential, in part because it called for a pint of lager beer. However, it also required an insidiously named ingredient, Instacure No. 1, which while promising that rosy hue that is synonymous with corned beef, was only available by online order. Since this was a Foodventure in the truest, most spontaneous sense, there was no time to order Instacure in time for the eight day brining period the recipe called for.

Undeterred, we turned where we always do when the going gets complicated: Alton Brown. Alton has devoted an entire episode of Good Eats to the brining of corned beef, with the promise of perfectly pickled pink beef without Instacure. Alton says that the same effect can be achieved with saltpetre (potasium nitrate), and he promises that it is available in pharmacies nationwide. Elated with this discovery, I prepared to conquer corned beef, ensuring a St. Patrick’s Day celebration worth cheating on Lent for.

Last Saturday morning I strolled into my neighborhood CVS (the ubiquitous pharmacy chain in the Washington area) and asked the friendly pharmacist for some saltpeter. She first adopted a quizzical stare, then became alarmingly inquisitive. What was I using it for, she asked. Taken aback, I stammered that it was for a food preservation project, which I recognize is lame, and frankly, very suspicious. But I had good reason to be guarded about my ambition.

You see, saltpeter is not only a first-class preservative (and carcinogen, apparently), it is also one of the main ingredients in gunpowder. I knew this going in, but I had placed my trust in Alton, and I naively believed that any suspicion about high explosives could be overcome with the promise of corned beef.

I was wrong.

The pharmacist dismissed me with suspicion, but I was undeterred. I went home, gathered up a list of phone numbers, and began dialing. I called every CVS in a ten mile radius. I called a medical supply company that specialized in obscure prescriptions. I called a laboratory supply store. Every one of my calls proved fruitless, save for the information that I could get potassium nitrate, but I would have to wait three days. But because my corned beef needed at least eight days in the brine, three days was not good enough. I gave up, dejected.

I share all of this with you for two reasons. First, the more ambitious the Foodventure, the higher the probability of failure. We hardly ever fail, but when we do, we fail hard. Second, I am concerned that the authorities will not look kindly on a) many Google searches about saltpetre, and b) many phone calls about where I can purchase some of it. Remember, we’re talking about homecooked gunpowder, and one can never be too careful. Please, dear reader, if the black helicopters come for me, tell the world my story.

The long and the short of it is that there will be no home-brined corned beef this year, and Katie and I haven’t decided if we’re going to break our meat-fast under these circumstances. I want to leave that question open to our readers, so leave a comment below. Also, if you have any good stories about your own Foodventures that have failed spectacularly, let us know. A little group therapy never hurt anybody.

Related posts:

  1. Foodventure Fail: Shrimp Fried Rice and Veggie Egg Rolls

  • By mwm, March 13, 2009 @ 10:35 am

    Does leaving the sugar out of sugar cookies qualify as a spectacular failure?

  • By Ed, March 14, 2009 @ 11:45 am

    It’s easy to corn a beef at home. What you need is a product called “meat tender” made by the Morton salt folks and a jar of pickling spices. Both can be found at any large grocery store. Put the piece of beef (I used a venison roast) in a crock pot, cover with water,then add the meat tender and spices. Plug it in, turn it on then presto in about 12 to 24 hrs corned beef or whatever. EASY

  • By Dana, March 18, 2009 @ 11:48 am

    this story makes my irish eyes weep

  • By Jane, March 20, 2009 @ 6:38 am

    I’m surprised you are using your pass on corned beef and not bacon. Just think, Frank, in a few short weeks we can all go to Cups for breakfast and you can order a delish sandwich with BACON! BACON, BACON, BACON!!

Other Links to this Post

  1. Hot News » Crock Pot Corned Beef And Cabbage — March 23, 2009 @ 12:15 am

WordPress Themes