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The salty brisket isn't just for St. Pat's. Enjoy fine plates of it year-round at these restaurants.

Monday Mar 09, 2009.     By K. Tighe

Food Feed

Growing up, I spent every St. Patrick's Day in my Great Aunt Judy's Baltimore kitchen. We'd get busy right away, mixing that first batch of soda bread, shredding cabbages and preparing the meat. I'd watch her mix the spices for the brisket from my post over the sink, washing the dozens of red potatoes it would take for the feast.

The sheer volume of food always frightened me; it seemed like we were getting ready for a disaster, and I wasn't too far off: Our extended family of Irish-Americans were, every one of 'em, rabid eaters. But what was it about this simple meat-and-potatoes meal that made animals out of my uncles? There's just something about the familial allure of corned beef that prompts us to eat ourselves into catatonia.

While most cities host the corned beef revival every March, Chicago embraces the salty meat year-round. So why settle for the lackluster brisket that every bar, pub and corner tavern will churn out this week when you can embrace some of Chicago's best menu items? Come on, make Aunt Judy proud.

Old-fashioned: Corned beef entree at Fado Irish Pub
Corned beef rose to popularity in the late 19th-century, when Irish immigrants would preserve cheap cuts of meat with a salt cure as a way to stock up for winter. At the time, the word "corn" represented any pellet-like granule, and referred to the coarse chunks of salt used to brine the beef. Cabbage, being abundant, inexpensive and a throwback to the old country, was the obvious sidekick for the new dish.

While every pub in town can throw a brisket into a crockpot and call it dinner, only a few lay out a spread worth breaking Lent for. The components of Fado's traditional meal couldn't be more humble: boiled red potatoes, buttered cabbage, brown bread and a tender hunk of beef. But as generations of Irish-Americans have learned, the comfort is all in the simplicity.

For Breakfast: Corned beef hash at Sweet Maple Cafe
When dealing with those post-St. Patrick's hangovers, few things take the edge off like a plateful of corned beef hash. This coarsely chopped hodgepodge of potatoes, onions and leftover corned beef has been a diner staple for years, but most versions have little more to offer than an urgent need for an antacid tablet.

Sweet Maple's house-made version proves that the requirements for a perfect, old-fashioned hash are simple: Big chunks of salty beef must abound; a hefty coating of grease is essential; and the blend cannot, under any circumstances, come from a can. The UIC staple even scores extra Americana-cred for serving its mountainous portions alongside twin eggs and a fluffy, homemade biscuit.

On bread: Corned beef at Manny's Coffee Shop & Deli
It really isn't fair; there just aren't many sandwiches that can contend with Manny's bloated corned beef on rye. For a 10-spot at this short-order cafeteria, you get your daily calorie intake, over 60 years of history, and the smug satisfaction that comes with knowing all those New York deli snobs can't make a case against this Chicago classic.

We should give those whiny New Yorkers one nod, though: Ever wonder how corned beef is able to so eloquently straddle both Jewish and Irish cultures? It all started on Manhattan's Lower East Side, when Irish immigrants asked their Jewish neighbors to recommend a cheaper substitute for their homeland's bacon.

For starters: Irish spring rolls at Moher's
The argument can be made that corned beef is about as Irish as General Tso's chicken is Chinese. Indeed, you'd have less difficulty tracking down the meat in a Chicago bar than in a Dublin pub. But don't judge the dish too harshly. This briny brisket fed the folks that made America—just as our cities were built on carry-out Chinese, anchored by the inauthentic fried eggroll.

In a clever homage to the American culinary mishmash, Moher's serves up Irish spring rolls, the pub's most popular item. Corned beef, cabbage and Irish cheddar are stuffed into a fried eggroll and served with yet another Americanized novelty: Grey Poupon. Each serving yields two rolls, cut in half for easy sharing.

New-fangled: Molasses-glazed corned beef at Wilde Bar and Restaurant
Believe it or not, even lowly Irish grub can be dressed to impress, with its simplicity still firmly intact. And it's no surprise that a bar named after Oscar Wilde figured out how to turn a working-class favorite into a decadent—yet unpretentious—masterpiece.

One of the most popular items served at Wilde, the brisket is slow-cooked for three hours before a molasses, brown sugar and Irish whiskey (Jameson, of course) glaze is applied. The tender meat then bakes for another hour. Cabbage dresses up in an apple braise, while red potatoes get tossed with butter and parsley.

From the source: 3XL corned beef at Vienna Beef Cafe
Could anything taste better than corned beef straight from the source? Okay, so technically the source is the lower chest of a cow, but the 3XL Corned Beef at the Vienna Beef Factory is much easier to catch.

Located inside of the actual factory, this hidden treasure is usually filled with Vienna employees taking lunch breaks, but the cafe is open to the public. Nine (yes, nine!) ounces of hot corned beef are piled high onto your choice of bread. Have them throw a few slices of pastrami on top; the classic deli meat is actually just smoked corned beef.