Two Days Too Late for St. Paddy's

Saturday was very busy. The day started with me and Cass going up to work to try and get the young people better prepared for a major standardized assessment. Getting young people to voluntarily come in on Saturday, and to do difficult and novel work, and to do it while a toddler is walking around being adorable the whole time may have been too much to ask.

I corned my own brisket again this year for St. Patrick's Day, but finding one was its own adventure. I had to go to Smart & Final and get the whole thing, a ten pound piece of meat (I got the smallest one) and then carve the point-cut off of the flat-cut. The large pyramidal point-cut went into the freezer and the slab of the flat-cut was salted and put under weights in the fridge, needing to be flipped each evening for the week up until cook time.

After getting home around 11, the race was one. My list of chores to do to prep the house for our guests was daunting, especially since it was just me and the Boy unti Corrie and everyone else arrived.

Get the meat on the stove: check. Clear the rest of the shit off the table: check. Change the lightbulb in the dining room (that's been out for a week but hasn't much mattered because of how damn early we eat with Cass): check. Make a final push on getting Tux's shitty abattoir litter room cleaned up: gross, check. Go grocery shopping: check.

Wasn't Cass supposed to get a nap? Oh well...that twenty minutes in the car will just have to do.

Was "spill coffee all over my master's degree" on the list? Shoulda been:

I hadn't even started drinking yet

Everything came together, our tiny social group seemed to like the food, Cass had two other toddlers to frolic with as the grown ups indulged in drink, and a good time was had by all.

I boiled that slab of brisket for hours, and it was tougher than I expected. The flavor great, and because I don't use the pink sodium nitrate salt, my corned beef doesn't look pink, it looks all sad and grey after it's done cooking. The taste is spot on, but it looks, eh, sub-ideal.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Eventually I was done and asleep on the couch after finishing our traditional St. Paddy's viewing, the season 8 episode of the Simpsons "Homer Versus the 18th Amendment," the classic Beer Baron episode. The day had been long and the week longer, and by 9-ish I was pretty much done. It was a beautiful combination of getting old, doing it right, and a case of the wearies.

Gotta love spring!

ADDENDUM: As a special bonus this season allow me to post a picture of the very special "interview" that my good buddy Pat Yamamoto wrote up for St. Pat's back in high school. He called it "Pat on Pat on Pat". Enjoy (if you can read it):