Corned Beef Hawaiian
contributed by Mrs. Ann P Jeter, Crestview, Fla.
Favorite Recipes of America: Casseroles p. 6
I certainly didn't come here to malign the probably-dead; but I must question Mrs. Ann P. Jeter's love for her family. This recipe is simultaneously the least-time intensive, and most disgusting, thing I have made in my life. Ever.
My own fondness for Hawaii knows no bounds. I mean, I've never been, but I DO like Magnum, PI, Na Leo Pilmehana, and that three-episode Brady Bunch epic. I also grew up listening to my grandmother, Mrs. White, endlessly repeat that she had been to Hawaii seven times, "four times as an escort", in her role of (Pastsupremepresident of the Beauceant), and sorting through shoeboxes full of photos like this:
But anyway, here's the recipe. Husband was home all day working, so I wanted to bring him something really special for lunch:
1 can sweet potatoes
1/4 c. orange juice
1/4 c. brown sugar
1 tsp. vanilla flavoring
1 tbsp. cornstarch
1 can corned beef
Drain sweet potatoes; reserve liquid. Mix liquid, orange juice, brown sugar, flavoring and cornstarch. Place corned beef in center of greased casserole. Arrange sweet potatoes around corned beef. Pour liquid over potatoes and corned beef. Bake at 350 degrees until done. Yield: 4 servings.
First of all, I must disagree with the "4 servings" notation. Mrs. Jeter may have had her family on starvation rations - more likely, they grew tired of her cooking and she adjusted her portions accordingly. Even just tasting this decidedly disgusting concoction, husband consumed nearly 3/4 of the entire yield.
Also, if you're not familiar with canned corned beef, it has the smell and consistency of dog food. I would imagine the taste as well. When exposed to heat, it loses what tenuous similarity to actual meat that it ever possessed, and becomes something akin to what you get when you soak a greasy baking dish overnight. Some kind of hideous combination of Palmolive and rendered beef tallow.
Undoubtedly this recipe was meant to capture the carefree frivolity of the Polynesian food craze of the late 50's-early 60's, and indeed it might not be such a bad idea...with any other meat than canned corned beef. Even the much-maligned Spam would be a better option, I would think.
(Note to self: start researching horrible Spam recipes right away.)
So, here's the thanks I get for slaving over a hot stove for, oh, about three minutes:
contributed by Mrs. Ann P Jeter, Crestview, Fla.
Favorite Recipes of America: Casseroles p. 6
My own fondness for Hawaii knows no bounds. I mean, I've never been, but I DO like Magnum, PI, Na Leo Pilmehana, and that three-episode Brady Bunch epic. I also grew up listening to my grandmother, Mrs. White, endlessly repeat that she had been to Hawaii seven times, "four times as an escort", in her role of (Pastsupremepresident of the Beauceant), and sorting through shoeboxes full of photos like this:
1 can sweet potatoes
1/4 c. orange juice
1/4 c. brown sugar
1 tsp. vanilla flavoring
1 tbsp. cornstarch
1 can corned beef
Drain sweet potatoes; reserve liquid. Mix liquid, orange juice, brown sugar, flavoring and cornstarch. Place corned beef in center of greased casserole. Arrange sweet potatoes around corned beef. Pour liquid over potatoes and corned beef. Bake at 350 degrees until done. Yield: 4 servings.
First of all, I must disagree with the "4 servings" notation. Mrs. Jeter may have had her family on starvation rations - more likely, they grew tired of her cooking and she adjusted her portions accordingly. Even just tasting this decidedly disgusting concoction, husband consumed nearly 3/4 of the entire yield.
Also, if you're not familiar with canned corned beef, it has the smell and consistency of dog food. I would imagine the taste as well. When exposed to heat, it loses what tenuous similarity to actual meat that it ever possessed, and becomes something akin to what you get when you soak a greasy baking dish overnight. Some kind of hideous combination of Palmolive and rendered beef tallow.
Undoubtedly this recipe was meant to capture the carefree frivolity of the Polynesian food craze of the late 50's-early 60's, and indeed it might not be such a bad idea...with any other meat than canned corned beef. Even the much-maligned Spam would be a better option, I would think.
(Note to self: start researching horrible Spam recipes right away.)
So, here's the thanks I get for slaving over a hot stove for, oh, about three minutes:
Our Rating: Four Screaming Husbands!
(all dishes are rated from one to five Screaming Husbands. One Screaming Husband equals a happy home where all problems are solved during cocktail hour. Five Screaming Husbands signals the beginning of divorce proceedings.)
I am very surprised that it wasn't SPAM considering how prevalent it is in Hawaii.
ReplyDeleteIn theory this sounds so good.
I love the photos. Muumuus for everyone!