blue artichoke

As a kid, I loved Vienna sausages, not so much for the tiny hot dogs, but for the thick goo they were packed in. Now the thought of that stuff totally grosses me out; Vienna sausages are toward the bottom of the list of things I consider edible, between squirrels and salmon. I don't know why I've turned my back on goo. It might just be the texture, or maybe because I heard that gelatin was made from hooves, and that is somehow more bothersome to me than eating the rest of the animal. Whatever the reason, I've never eaten aspic and I have a hard time with Jell-o.

I made brisket for dinner last night. Brisket is a cut of meat from the front limb and breast portion of a cow, beneath the first five ribs. It is a tough and flavorful cut that does well with long, slow cooking, as in a crock-pot. I looked for a regular brisket at the grocery store, but all they had was corned beef brisket, so I went for that, thinking, hey, it's just pre-seasoned. I threw away the seasoning packet. Corned beef brisket has about an inch of hard fat on one side and comes covered in bright red gelatinous goo. I rinsed it off, but it clogged up my sink. A layer of red slime covered the bottom of the sink and red strings of goo were caught sliding through the drain stopper. I had to pull them out; they stuck to my hands. Gross. I scrubbed out the sink and washed my hands, then got on with dinner prep. The recipe I was following came from Purple Fried Okra, and was really easy: layer sliced onion rings in the crock pot, top with trimmed brisket and pour in a mixture of beer, chili sauce, brown sugar and garlic. When I got home from work, the house smelled great. Dinnertime rolled around and I heaped hunks of meat and thickened sauce onto our plates. Hoo boy! Salty! But good, as long as I could distract myself from the memory of the bright red slimy goo clinging to my hands and clogging the sink. PFO loves this recipe; I want to try it again with a regular, unseasoned brisket, or even with a regular roast. Corned beef is dead for me; it now joins Vienna sausages as food ruined by goo. No redeeming value.

The upshot of a queasy dinner is that I had plenty of room for dessert, Purple Fried Okra's French Coconut Pie. It came out of the oven right before we started dinner. It was a bit wobbly in the middle, but the recipe assured me that it would firm up as it cooled. We didn't really give it a chance; we ate it warm and gooey (in a sweet, sugary, good way). Gentleman Caller could only nod his head in approval as he gobbled up his slice. This is a ridiculously easy pie to make, and the world is a better place because it exists. It's just as good the next day, straight from the fridge, but I think I might have to make it again soon, just to see how it is when it sets properly.

Dinner last night: peppered (corned) beef brisket in beer; creamed spinach; baby carrots; French coconut pie