SC - OOP Hash Browns

[WOLFMOMSCA at aol.com]

In a message dated 7/11/99 1:12:39 PM Eastern Daylight Time, Melisande wrote:

<< I never saw this recipe.  Wolfmother, did you respond privately or did
 it happen after I was excommunicated from the list?  Either way, I, too,
 would like the recipe unless it is "An Olde Family Recipe" classified
 Top Secret. >>

Neither.  I've been on the road building a new bookstore for a month, and I 
jus' plum' forgot about it.  My apologies for those who wanted this one.  
Unfortunately, there really isn't a recipe, per se.  My Pennsic hash browns 
started off with the drippings from whichever breakfast meat was being 
grilled that morning, sometimes bacon, sometimes sausage, sometimes both.  
Into this was dumped about 10-15 pounds of chopped onion, 5 pounds of chopped 
green peppers, and about 2 cups of minced garlic.  The green pepper was the 
timing guide.  When it was fairly soft, I added 50 pounds of cubed potatoes, 
pre-boiled by the night crew to "al dente".  A few tablespoons of salt, fresh 
ground black pepper, some sage, some dill weed, some basil, and some cumin 
got tossed in.  When the potatoes got brown, they were done.  The whole mess 
went into the oven to stay warm.  I never had leftovers, and people knew to 
show up early for breakfast to get them, cuz once they were gone, they were 
gone until the next day.  The late morning and early afternoon breakfasters 
sometimes had to make do with garlic toast if we were particularly busy.  

When I make them at home, the quantities are significantly reduced, but the 
recipe remains pretty much the same.  Sometimes I change the spices, 
depending on my mood and level of awakeness when I reach into the spice 
cabinet.  ;-)  As to actual measurement of what I throw in them, I couldn't 
tell you if my life depended on it.  I just know how much is "enough", 
y'know?  I often cook this way, especially when I'm whipping something up on 
the fly.  It's usually a surprise, and always tasty, and I get no complaints 
from the folks who eat it, so there we are.  I come from a long line of 
instinctive cooks, so I guess this flaw is genetic.  Sorry, y'all.

Walk in peace,
Wolfmother
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