Latest news with #FrankCostanza
Yahoo
03-08-2025
- General
- Yahoo
The Vintage Breakfast Dish That Became A US Army Staple
When you think about Army food, there are a few things that probably come to mind. Maybe you imagine Frank Costanza accidentally poisoning his troop in the Korean War and never cooking again. Maybe you think of the popularization of instant coffee, or of David Schwimmer's Herbert Sobel in "Band of Brothers" forcing his platoon to run on bellies stuffed to the brim with spaghetti. Or maybe you think of ... chipped beef? A staple of military eating since at least 1910, chipped beef on toast has been designated as S.O.S., or "same old slop" (among other, more colorful appellations), partly out of affection and partly out of abhorrence. But what exactly is it? Chipped beef is, essentially, a "by any means necessary" version of biscuits and gravy. The meat in question is highly salted, dried beef, traditionally requiring no refrigeration before opening. How salty is it? A single serving often contributes over 40% of the recommended daily value for sodium. Different makers of dried beef use different types of beef, with one company using beef knuckles, while others use beef rounds. To make the iconic dish, you just need to make a white gravy out of butter, flour, and milk, then add the dried beef and serve the whole sloppy meal on toast. Onions, peas, and herbs or spices like parsley or cayenne can be added depending on personal preference. While the gravy originally included beef stock, that practice seems to have been phased out for a creamier result. Read more: 6 Canned Meats You Should Buy And 4 You Should Avoid How To Use Chipped Beef At Home The first recipes for chipped beef on toast might have come from the Army, but the meat itself actually originated with the Pennsylvania Amish, along with other iconic dishes like Pennsylvania-style chicken pot pie. It began being sold in local supermarkets in the area, and from there, became the Army staple we know it as today. While chipped beef on toast is the most common application of the dried beef, it's far from the only one. Scrambled eggs and chipped beef is a salt-packed, quick-preparation breakfast that anyone can whip up in a flash, and dried beef can make itself at home in an Italian sandwich or charcuterie board. There's also the Midwestern classic dried beef cheeseball, an all-purpose appetizer made by taking a ball of cream cheese, rolling it in the dried beef slices, and eating it with Ritz crackers, with the beef adding a powerful punch to the more mild cheese. If you are planning on adding dried beef to your larder and experimenting with the wartime ration, one common piece of advice is to taste it first so you can get a proper gauge on its saltiness. Don't be afraid to rinse it off in the sink to remove some of the sodium and keep it from overpowering your other ingredients. Want more food knowledge? Sign up to our free newsletter where we're helping thousands of foodies, like you, become culinary masters, one email at a time. Read the original article on Food Republic. Solve the daily Crossword
Yahoo
27-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Kim Shanahan, a charismatic curmudgeon in the best way
Everyone calls or emails. Everyone wants at least 30 minutes. Everyone knows your first impression matters more than theirs. For Seinfeld rerun fans, the first month for a new editor feels like Festivus. That's why I do a bit of sleuthing instead of giving a quick yes to a spontaneous professional meetup. Rerun reality often meets déjà vu all over again, where a seemingly pleasant person goes full Frank Costanza, turning social niceties into a shouting lecture on how I need to improve the newspaper. I've learned through the years to go poker face when those Franks essentially say, 'Welcome, newcomer editor! The tradition of New Editor Festivus begins with the airing of grievances. I have a lot of problems with you people! And now you're gonna hear about it!' And that's the backstory of how I grew quickly to like Kim Shanahan. When I started at The Santa Fe New Mexican in mid-September, Kim was quick to reach out. I was not as quick getting back to him. Was I sleuthing? Maybe. Kim's email sank quickly to the bottom of my in-box as new messages popped up in bold type, jockeying for the top spot. Kim sent another email, and the same sinking feeling happened. After an extended game of email tag, we tried to find a time to meet. But Kim was busy in Costa Rica, my calendar was full, and our back-and-forth game of tag stretched into October. He was gracious, though, and laughed off my weak apology when we finally found 30 minutes for a phone call. He launched into his younger years at Michigan State, where he thought about becoming a journalist. Kim knew I had spent time in Michigan, so we bonded over hockey, Lansing and what could have been if he had chosen a career in journalism. I recall talking about the peculiarities of trying to buy a home in Santa Fe. He asked where our house was. When I told him where, Kim guessed what we paid. He was right. He added, 'You made a good choice.' To this date, he's been right. What I grasped about Kim was his knowledge and candor. There's a level of diplomacy that plays out in most first social encounters, but Kim knew how to rush through the niceties and articulate grievances — such as city public policies in our first conversation — without going full Frank Costanza. Longtime readers of his Sunday Real Estate commentary in The New Mexican knew where Kim stood on issues. But he wrote with passion and reasoning that forced smart critics to think before reacting. Kim called out elected officials, but he didn't pen his commentaries with a personal ax. Read the first two paragraphs of Kim's April 20 column, and notice how he gave credit where due while pointing out a public policy problem that needs an answer: If it were not for City Councilor Carol Romero-Wirth, who has announced she's not running for reelection, Santa Fe's residential green-building codes would remain stuck at 2018 levels, where they are today. Fortunately, she is determined to get the long-overdue revisions and updates over the finish line before her term expires at the end of the year. Unfortunately, given its slow walk within the corridors of City Hall, it may take that long to get approval on a product that has been finished for months. Kim turned in the column without a chance to read it on He died Friday of a heart attack. His column was published Sunday. Subscriber Brian Weiss' email encapsulated Kim's impact: Condolences on the sudden and shocking passing of Kim Shanahan. Though I never met him in person, Kim and I exchanged a few emails when I either agreed or disagreed with what he'd had to say. His presence in The New Mexican's pages will be missed — agree or disagree, he put forth significant issues that always merited consideration and debate. We will miss Kim. As an advocate for Santa Fe and New Mexico. As a talented real estate and public policy expert. As a charismatic curmudgeon who everyone respected as a friend.
