Still Life With Brisket

You'll be happy to know I spared you Stage 4 of Passover Prep -- schlepping to Gelson's and spending a heap of gelt like you wouldn't believe, or maybe you would if you've prepared a seder, and I use the term very loosely, for 15 people. I also spared you Stage 5, the pre-prep of the briskets, you're welcome, because why should I burden you with this hurtful mother-in-law/daughter-in-law brisket-centric conversation that went something like this:

"Cook it longer this time."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying you can cook brisket forever."
"I don't want to cook it forever. Won't it get dry?"
"Not if you do it right."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying cook it longer."
"You said that already."
"I did?"
"Don't play coy with me, Missy. You're saying all these years, you think my brisket is what, tough?"
"It could be more tender."
"I'm hanging up now to weep."

Don't worry, I didn't shed a tear, not until I cut the onions. What I did do was rethink things in my standard obsessive way. Maybe my MIL was right. I mean, I don't even eat brisket. I haven't eaten meat since college. How should I know what constitutes tender vs. tough? Would it kill me to mix things up a bit, table my easy-peasy go-to Lipton's Soup/Ketchup recipe and step outside my brisket comfort zone? Well, why the eff not? And so, after I received an emergency research grant from the Institute For Better Brisket, I discovered this "melt in your mouth" recipe, courtesy of a nice Jewish gal who knows what she's talking about, God willing.

Stage 6: Exciting action shot of brisket cooking 

Rather than cook my briskets at 325 per usual, I'm cooking them at 275 degrees for 8 or 9 hours, maybe longer, "till they pull apart with two forks." Then back in the fridge they go, to be de-fatted and sliced Sunday morning, and later on in the day, warmed for 40 - 45 minutes in a 350 oven. Yes, you heard that right. The SJG mispocha is once again messing with Elijah and doing Passover on Easter Sunday. Stop by if you're in the neighborhood. But call first. I'm not a big fan of the pop-in.