I should have made this post last week. I couldn't, though, because I hadn't thought of it yet.
This post of for people who have just cooked a big hunk of corned beef by braising it in Guinness and water and maybe some beef stock all afternoon, and are wondering what to do with the cooking liquid.
You probably fell into that category last night, and will probably not fall into it again for a while. The thing is, you don't need to wait until next St. Patrick's Day to make corned beef braised in Guinness. You can, in fact, make it whenever you darn well please. I'm not going to suggest you make corned beef this weekend just to get the cooking liquid. I will suggest, humbly, that you make it more often and then keep this recipe in mind.
So, anyway, you've just had a nice dinner of corned beef and cabbage and there's all this rich, malty, beefy, salty cooking liquid sitting in the pot. Oh, it would be such a shame to pour all that flavor down the sink!
This is where being an obsessive stockpiler of canned beans comes in handy. Toss four or five cans of beans into the cooking liquid -- you want the liquid level to remain over the beans. If you are lucky enough that you have two stray leeks on hand, chop them up and toss them in. No leeks? A couple onions will be good.
This is where you're probably expecting me to recommend throwing in a pig's foot, eh? Well, you're right! It's not strictly necessary, as the liquid has been absorbing brisket juice all afternoon, but it will still add a little something. So, if I've convinced you to start keeping pig's feet in the freezer, toss one in!
Bring the whole kit and kaboodle to a boil, slide it into the oven at 225 and leave it there overnight.
(Mine started at 11 p.m. and came out of the oven shortly after 7 a.m., though the oven was turned off an hour or two prior to that by somebody who didn't realize there was a pot in it.)
End result: A big pot of rich, meaty, salty beans, good for stretching out the leftover corned beef or just being eaten on their own.
This dish was named before I saw the end results, based on what I expected it to look like when long-cooked white beans nestled in the reduced remnants of the beefy Guinness. The end result was actually just plain tan all around, but I stuck with the original name.
(For those of you preparing to write indignant emails about how I shouldn't have named it that at all, yes, I know my history. Have another drink, listen to the song and leave me alone!)