Since it’s already a few days post-St. Patty’s, I thought about just skipping this recipe and posting some new biscotti or soup that I made.
But then we had Reubens for dinner with the leftovers, and I thought that just in case you might want to snatch up an on-ridiculous-sale pack of corned beef and go to town, I’d post it.
This was delicious. Even better that it provided Fritz and I with Reubens…twice.
Bring on the sauerkraut, baby!
Whiskey-Glazed Corned Beef (adapted from The Galley Gourmet)
- 1 package corned beef (I think mine was a three-pounder)
- 1/4 C ketchup (ugh–normally the smell of ketchup makes me want to vomit, but I made it work)
- 1/3 C whiskey
- 1/4 C apple cider vinegar
- 2 T brown sugar
- 2 T soy sauce
- 2 t mustard (I used sweet and spicy)
Stick the corned beef in a pot and cover with water. Bring to a boil and then reduce the heat to a simmer and cook for 3-4 hours, until tender.
I did not take a photo of this because I promise that it is incredibly difficult to make a giant hunk of meat swimming in a pool of slightly foamy simmering water look attractive. You can use your imagination on that one.
Once the beef is ready, preheat the oven broiler and mix all the remaining ingredients in a small bowl. Place the beef on a roasting rack (you can line the roasting pan beneath it for foil for an easier cleanup if you wish) and brush the glaze onto the top and sides of the roast.
Place under the broiler for a few minutes, until the glaze gets thick and darker and starts to caramelize. Brush on another layer, and repeat until the glaze is gone.
Um, hello, you beautiful thing, you.
Let it cool enough to slice, and slice against the grain to get the beef as tender as possible.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen Fritz as happy as he was when I showed him what he was having for dinner. Every once in a while he gets a weird pregnancy (what?) craving for corned beef, and I am happy to oblige.
Once a year.
Like I said before, the best part of this corned beef was the leftover Reubens. Rye bread, a giant pile of sauerkraut, provolone cheese, and a teensy bit of thousand island dressing to take your corned beef to heaven.
I used to always eat what my family called a “Neuben” (Not-Reuben) where I switched out the corned beef for tomato. It’s something a vegetarian roommate of mine in college used to do, and now that I have all the trimmings for Reubens in the fridge, they might have to make a reappearance.
Also…how the heck did Henry get up here?