I hadn’t made corned beef in years.
Too many memories tied to the smell of it. Too many St. Patrick’s Days that ended in mismatched plates and someone crying in the kitchen.
But the brisket was on sale, and the cabbage was already in the crisper.
And when I saw Martha’s recipe—clean, slow, no frills—I figured maybe it was time.
So I pulled out the slow cooker.
Dropped in the carrots.
And let it happen.
What the Original Looked Like
Martha’s take is gentle.
A bed of celery, carrots, onion, potatoes. A brisket nestled on top like it knows something you don’t. One tablespoon of pickling spice, or that little packet they tape to the meat. A few sprigs of thyme. Water just until it whispers over the top.
She doesn’t rush the cabbage. It goes in at the end—so it stays soft but not sad.
The result is classic.
Not showy. Not reinvented. Just solid.
The kind of meal that makes you set the table, even if no one’s coming over.
What I Did Differently
Used more carrots—because I always want more carrots.
Didn’t have Savoy, used regular green cabbage.
And I added a splash of apple cider vinegar to the water. Maybe for the tang. Maybe just for me.
The Way It Happened in My Kitchen
The slow cooker clicked on at 8:00 a.m.
I stood there, still in socks, with coffee in one hand and thyme in the other.
The house smelled like someone was coming over by noon.
Mae came home early, lifted the lid, and whispered “Oh.” That was it. Just “Oh.”
The cabbage went in late, like Martha said. It softened fast but stayed bright at the edges.
I sliced the brisket on a wooden board that still smells like last fall’s roast chicken.
We ate in quiet. No phones. Just mustard.
It didn’t fix anything, but it reminded me what warm felt like.
A Few Things I Learned While It Cooked
Low and slow works better than most advice.
Cabbage deserves better than we give it.
And when the broth’s good, you drink it straight from the spoon.
What I Did With the Extras
Mae made sandwiches the next day—corned beef, mustard, a little leftover cabbage, toasted rye.
I froze two thick slices for the kind of night that just needs salt and silence.
The rest I ate standing, with a fork, over the sink. No shame.
Would I Make It Again?
Yes.
Next cold Sunday. Or next time I want the house to feel full, even if no one’s around.
That’s As Much As I Remember
The pot stayed warm all afternoon. The leftovers held up better than expected.
And the silence after dinner felt different. Not empty. Just full.
If you want something slower but sweeter, I made Martha’s sweet potato gratin last winter and almost cried. For good reasons.
FAQs
you can do it on the stovetop, but slow cooker makes it easy. and the smell stays steady all day.
no, but use something. whole cloves, peppercorns, mustard seeds—it’s what gives it depth.
yes. more carrots, more potatoes, even parsnips if you’ve got them.
near the end. about 45 minutes before serving if on high. it keeps it from going mushy.
in a pan, with a little broth or water, covered. go low and slow. like the first time.
Martha Stewart’s Corned Beef and Cabbage – Nell’s Version
Description
Salty, warm, and soft around the edges. Like coming home to a full house when you didn’t know you needed it.
Ingredients
Instructions
- Layer the vegetables. in a 5- to 6-quart slow cooker, place celery, carrots, onion, potatoes, and thyme. this is the base. the bed. the beginning.
- Add the corned beef. place it on top, fat side up. sprinkle with the spice packet or your own blend.
- Add the water. pour enough to almost cover the beef—about 4 to 6 cups. don’t drown it. just hug it.
- Cook on HIGH for 4¼ hours or LOW for 8½. let it go. don’t lift the lid. let the house do what it does.
- Add the cabbage. about 45 minutes before the end (HIGH) or 1½ hours (LOW), place cabbage wedges on top. cover again. don’t stir.
- Slice and serve. remove the beef carefully. slice against the grain. serve with veggies, a ladle of broth, and grainy mustard on the side.