[Sca-cooks] Winter comfort food...

[Jeff Gedney]

>--Maire, Artemisian descended from a long, long line of Yankies so old it's
>almost period....who is now craving Red Flannel Hash.  And maple syrup,
>although not on top of the hash. ;o)
>

I am also descended from a line of Yankees almost period...
The Gedneys came to Salem in 1640...
(We hung witches and everything! We were so fashionable! :-p )

>Ok, I think I have to ask now - recipe for Red Flannel Hash, please?
here's our recipe (amounts are approximate I dont generally measure this)
1 c. cooked corned beef, cubed (large), and then lightly shredded with a fork - You can get unsliced "ends" from the deli. One of these should be enough, two is plenty)
1 c. (or so) chopped boiled yukon gold potatoes  
1 c. boiled & chopped beets 
1 med. yellow onion, minced fine. 
Generous Dash of cream
Small splash Worcestershire sauce (optional)
Salt & pepper to taste (Fresh cracked pepper is preferable)

Mix it all together in a bowl and make balls slightly larger than a golf ball, fry in real butter, pressing the balls flat with the spatula to about 3/8 to 1/2 inch thick. Cook until crisp and browned on both sides. 

Serve with an egg or two over easy, fresh hot toast, and fresh coffee, and you have THIS Yankee's dream breakfast. 

Capt Elias
Dragonship Haven, East
(Stratford, CT, USA)
Apprentice in the House of Silverwing

-Renaissance Geek of the Cyber Seas
- Help! I am being pecked to death by the Ducks of Dilletanteism! 
There are SO damn many more things I want to try in 
the SCA than I can possibly have time for. 
It's killing me!!!

-----------------------------------------------------
Upon the hempen tackle ship-boys climbing;
Hear the shrill whistle which doth order give
To sounds confused; behold the threaden sails,
Borne with the invisible and creeping wind,
Draw the huge bottoms through the furrow'd sea,
Breasting the lofty surge: O, do but think
You stand upon the ravage and behold
A city on the inconstant billows dancing;
For so appears this fleet majestical,
Holding due course to Harfleur. 
  - Shakespeare - Henry V, Act III, Prologue