Call me crazy, but I served it to my girlfriends! And they loved it! The meat was super tender; the potatoes and carrots were as soft as mother’s. These girls were Catholics and Protestants and Episcopalians—they actually like corned beef! And they had no idea that what they were eating should’ve tasted entirely different. They devoured it and asked for more.
I called my mom the next day and she asked how the brisket came out. “Salty,” I replied. I sheepishly told her my mistake and she replied, “ Oh, Tzeitel did that her first time too.” Thanks for the warning, ma.
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