A few years ago, I moved from Seattle to Ferndale, WA, a small town a couple miles south of the Canadian border along the I-5 corridor. For such a tiny place, there are a surprising number of great places to eat - amazingly good Indian and Thai food, for example (don't bother with the Mexican - alas). My favorite breakfast spot is Cedars, an old school diner on Main Street. Red leatherette booths, a long counter with swivelly stools, dark wood panelling, a constant klatch of elderly regulars, and a rotating pie case filled with pies from locally owned one-woman operation Barbie's Pastries. Rhubarb, strawberry, lemon meringue, you name it, it's good. But I'm not writing about Cedar's because of the pie. I'm writing about the Corned Beef Hash.
How long has it been since you ordered corned beef hash and got the real thing - not out of a can, heaven forbid - but real, tender diced chunks of corned beef, onions and potatoes, crispy and browned on the edges, soft and meltingly tender within? You can't remember, can you? Now imagine a large oval plater loaded up with a very generous portion of this heavenly melange, a little bit spicy, fatty and meaty and salty, topped with a couple of eggs as-you-like-'em (over easy, of course) and accompanied by some dark rye toast and fresh hot coffee. Oh my. It's eleven o'clock at night and I can't wait for morning so I can go get some.
I honestly haven't experienced Corned Beef Hash this good in many years. There was this one diner somewhere in northern California, in about 1996... but no, this is even better. Try it if you are within fifty miles.