Corned Beef Breakfast Hash

Christmas is in six days and I am ready in the way that exhausted mothers are ready, which is to say: the presents are wrapped, the freezer is stocked, the tree is up, the stockings are hung, and I have cried in the shower twice this week, which is down from three times last week, so we're calling that progress.

I bought Grace a Christmas ornament. A small glass angel from the craft store in Orem — $4.99, nothing fancy, the kind of thing you'd walk past without noticing if you weren't a mother shopping for a dead baby's Christmas present. I put it on the tree Thursday night after the kids were in bed. Brandon watched me hang it. He didn't say anything. He didn't need to. The angel is on the branch next to Noah's popsicle-stick frame from last year and Mason's glitter-covered star from kindergarten, and it belongs there, between her brothers' ornaments, because she belongs there, and I will buy her a new ornament every year until I am too old to reach the tree, and then I will ask someone to hang it for me.

The cinnamon roll dough worked. I tested a batch Wednesday morning — pulled it from the freezer Tuesday night, let it thaw in the pan, and baked it at 350 for twenty-two minutes. Golden. Soft. The cream cheese frosting took four minutes. Mason ate three before school and said "these are fire," which I believe is a compliment, though with Mason you never fully know. Christmas morning breakfast is solved. One less thing to think about. One less thing between me and being present for what matters, which is five children in pajamas tearing open presents and believing — still believing, all of them, even twelve-year-old Ethan who I suspect has doubts about Santa but is keeping them to himself because the magic is worth more than the truth, and I love him for that calculation.

I made a batch of funeral potatoes Saturday. Not for Christmas — for January. For the fourteenth. I know it's three weeks away. I know it's early. But I woke up Saturday morning and my hands needed to make them, needed the familiar motion of shredding potatoes and stirring cream of chicken soup and layering cheese like I'm sealing something shut, and so I did, and I put them in the freezer, labeled and dated, and they will wait there until I need them, and I will need them, and they will be ready. The freezer holds more than food. I am learning this. It holds the things I can't say out loud but can make with my hands. It holds January. It holds Grace. It holds me.

That same Saturday, after the funeral potatoes were labeled and in the freezer, I needed to keep my hands busy a little longer—something louder, something that sizzled and smelled like a regular morning, like a morning that didn’t have a fourteenth circled in it somewhere. Corned beef hash is that recipe for me: it’s humble and a little rough around the edges and it fills the kitchen with enough noise that you don’t have to think too hard. Here’s how I made it.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 30 min | Total Time: 45 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

2 lbs russet potatoes, peeled and shredded (or one 30 oz bag frozen shredded hash browns, thawed)
12 oz canned corned beef, broken into rough chunks (or 1 1/2 cups diced leftover corned beef)
1 medium yellow onion, finely diced
1 green bell pepper, finely diced
2 cloves garlic, minced
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, divided
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
3/4 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
6 large eggs (optional, for serving)
Fresh parsley or sliced green onion, for garnish (optional)

Instructions

Dry the potatoes. If using fresh shredded potatoes, place them in a clean kitchen towel and wring out as much moisture as possible. The drier the potato, the crispier the hash. If using frozen hash browns, press them dry the same way after thawing.
Sauté the aromatics. In a large cast iron or heavy-bottomed skillet, melt 1 tablespoon of the butter with the olive oil over medium-high heat. Add the onion and bell pepper and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened and lightly golden, about 6–8 minutes. Add the garlic and cook 1 minute more. Transfer the mixture to a bowl and set aside.
Build the hash base. Add the remaining 2 tablespoons butter to the same skillet over medium-high heat. Spread the shredded potatoes in an even layer across the pan. Season with the smoked paprika, garlic powder, salt, and pepper. Press down firmly with a spatula. Let cook undisturbed for 7–9 minutes, until the bottom is deeply golden and crisp.
Fold and crisp. Flip the hash in sections—it doesn’t need to be perfect. Scatter the corned beef and the reserved onion mixture over the top. Press everything down gently with the spatula and cook another 6–8 minutes, until the second side is crisped to your liking.
Add eggs, if using. Create shallow wells in the hash with the back of a spoon. Crack one egg into each well. Cover the skillet with a lid or foil and cook 3–5 minutes, until the whites are set and the yolks are done to your preference.
Serve. Scatter with fresh parsley or green onion if desired. Serve straight from the skillet.
To freeze. Cool completely, then portion into freezer-safe containers or zip bags. Label and date. Freeze up to 3 months. Reheat in a skillet over medium heat with a small pat of butter, pressing down to re-crisp, 8–10 minutes. Do not microwave if you want the crisp back.

Nutrition (per serving)

Corned Beef Breakfast Hash — The Potatoes My Hands Needed to Make