warm cabbage and apple slaw

And with that, cabbage week comes to a close.
I have learned a little bit about the cabbage this week.

That a few cabbages go a long way. With three cabbages, we have feasted like royalty. Three cabbages became a decadent and buttery stew, they twirled and whirled to become fancy stuffed cabbage, and they made the most lovely sagey potato gratin.

That the cabbage is a giving vegetable. Unlike some specimens of the vegetable kingdom that challenge you to brave their thorns and stems and skins, the cabbage offers a half here, a half tomorrow; it invites you to take a bit off of it's happy orb, to chop a bit finely or roughly if you prefer, and to do what you like.

That the cabbage is beautiful, and loves to be photographed, is pleasing to hold, to look at, and to prepare.

That the cabbage may need to be forced upon its eater. Its flavor is far superior to its reputation, and therefore we must ignore the forceful mumblings of those who profess not to be "cabbage people". When presented with such a guest, a gentle urging is necessary, such as one would give a child, "Just a bite. Just a quick try." And soon, the plate will be clear.

And with respect to the multitude of virtues that the cabbage holds, I think I will wait a week or two before my next cabbage. There is one more left in my refrigerator, and as (one more strength) the cabbage is quite a keeper, it will wait patiently until I am ready again.

Before the week ends, we will have on more little bowl of cabbage, a humble warm and wintery salad to eat along a bit of meat, or rice, or whatever pleases you.


Warm Cabbage and Apple Slaw
adapted from Alice Waters, Chez Panisse Vegetables
serves 4

1/2 red cabbage, cored and cut into thin ribbons
1 small onion, halved and cut into thin slices
1 crisp apple, peeled, cored, and cut into thin slices
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 teaspoon red wine vinegar
juice of 1/2 lemon
kosher salt and freshly ground pepper

In a large sautee pan, heat the oil over medium heat. Add the onion and cook, stirring, until the onions turn translucent and start to brown, about 1 minute. Add the apple and cook for another minute. Add the cabbage and a bit of water, and cook until the cabbage starts to soften but is still crunchy, 3-5 minutes. Add the vinegar and lemon juice, and toss well. Add salt and pepper to taste and serve warm.

sauerkraut and eggs

Have you ever had sauerkraut and eggs? It is a revelation, I think.

I made sauerkraut this summer. I really did it. I grew a whole cabbage patch, chopped it up, and put it in a bucket with a whole lot of salt. Sometimes I start big.

It was okay. Too salty, but okay. But then it got a little mushy, and I composted a whole lot of sauerkraut. It will feed next years patch.

I can't wait to try again. But until then, someone else is making really good kraut nearby. I like the red kind the best. It is heaven with eggs. Absolute heaven.

cabbage and potato gratin with sage

Today was a snow day, theoretically. There was the threat of snow, which kept Joey and the girls home. I made great messes in the kitchen with not much to show for it, Joey made tiny valentines, and the girls held on to us both. It seemed that there was a rope linking them to us, and it never got longer than about six feet.


There is an old story that you might have heard, a section of Plato's Symposium that describes why two lovers always want to join together. According to the story, we were once double the people we are now. A punishment from the gods split us in two, and we are forever trying to rejoin our other half. It makes sense, don't you think?

The story has started to strike me differently lately Yes, there is a powerful drive to forget the boundaries of your body when you find another person who feels like they could be the lost half. Anyone who has been sixteen is familiar with that. But this is all based on a story, a philosophical creation myth of love, if you will. How about in that circumstance when two bodies really are connected, like in pregnancy? Although there are, of course, many differences between these two situations, I cannot but help to notice that my sometimes my children seem to be trying to, well, how do I put it? They are trying to get back in. On days like today, when they are just attached, to watch them, one would think that I have a magnet inside of me.


To be quite honest, this drives me absolutely batty. If there is one thing I miss about that long ago and far away before I was a parent, it is my physical space. I am a woman with a fairly large bubble around me. Being a human jungle gym doesn't suit me, and when the kids are under my feet in the kitchen because "I just want to be with you, Mama," I do not do the right thing and sit down on the floor and take them in my arms. I nursed and co-slept for many years, carrying my children around in slings and soft carriers. But when they hopped down and ran away, I stretched my arms and cheered.

Today I started thinking about that myth of the double person, trying to understand their physical need to touch me at all times through that lens. And I understand what they're trying to do, just a little. After all, I have been known to hold on to them too long when they are running off to school, to breathe in their hair when I am reading a book. I know what that feeling is too.

By the time dinner rolled around, I was feeling a little less annoyed. It was finally snowing, and Rosie was vacuuming the living room, pulling the vacuum around behind her. I wanted to scoop her up, but I let her go about her business, because who can interrupt a child from vacuuming the living room, really?


There were no tears at dinner, and we talked about Rosie's birthday coming up. I ate slowly, an absolutely rarity these days, and I had three helpings of cabbage and potato gratin with sage. This was my favorite cabbage week dish yet. I loved it. I think it was too sage-y for Joey, and Sadie couldn't eat it because of her egg allergy. Rosie wouldn't touch it because it contained a vegetable, so in the end, it was mine. If I have to share my body and my space all day, at least I get my gratin to myself.

Cabbage and Potato Gratin with Sage
from Deborah Madison, Local Flavors

1 pound potatoes, peeled and sliced to 1/4 inch thick
1 1/2 pounds green cabbage, cut into 1-inch ribbons
sea salt and freshly ground pepper
4 tablespoons unsalted butter
3 tablespoons chopped fresh sage
1 garlic clove, chopped
1 1/2 cups milk
3 eggs
1/2 cup freshly grated parmesan
1/3 cup all-purpose flour

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Lightly butter an 8x12 gratin or baking dish. Bring a gallon of water to boil.
Add one tablespoon of salt to the water, and add the potatoes. Cook until nearly tender, about 6 minutes, and remove with a slotted spoon, keeping the water boiling on the stove. Put the potatoes into a colander and set aside. Put the cabbage into the water, and cook for 5 minutes. Don't worry if the water doesn't return to a boil. Transfer the potatoes to a large bowl, and drain the cabbage in the colander, rinsing under cool water. Wrap the cabbage in a kitchen towel to absorb excess water, giving it a few twists. Put the cabbage in the bowl with the potatoes.
Melt the butter in a small skillet with the garlic and sage. Cook for about 1 minute, not letting the garlic brown. Pour it over the cabbage and potatoes. Toss well, taste, and season with salt and pepper. Transfer to the prepared baking dish.
Whisk the milk, eggs, flour and parmesan together, reserving a bit of parmesan for the top. Pour the mixture over the potatoes and cabbage and top with the bit of parmesan. Bake until firm and lightly browned, about 50 minutes. Let cool for at least 10 minutes before serving.

stuffed cabbage a la chatelaine

Do you ever find yourself in the kitchen, confused and full of questions? What is this that I'm making? Why did I start so late? How will I possibly finish making it before I have to go pick up the kids? Do I even want to? Shouldn't there be some liquid in here? 2 hours in the oven? Maybe we should just eat hummus for dinner? Who wrote this recipe? Why didn't they give me a picture? Am I lame to want a picture? If I were fabulous and French would I understand it? Should this cabbage be cooked all the way through? Maybe I should have cut it before I blanched it? Will my children touch this? Will Joey grumble about cabbage week all through dinner? Will I have to skip a day of cabbage week and keep this one to myself?

And then, even though I have about ten minutes to pull this together, I have to stop and take a picture. It turns out this whole cabbage week might just be an excuse to take a lot of pictures of cabbage, perhaps, I'm beginning to think, the most photogenic vegetable there is. Tell me this, have you ever seen anything more lovely than a whole blanched cabbage? I swear, I would make a dress out of the leaves if people wouldn't complain about my perfume. Look at that color, would you?

Like life itself, that color. Just gorgeous.

I wanted to make something new for you today, something I've never tried. I wanted something fancy and interesting involving whole cabbage leaves and meat and cognac. Today is stuffed cabbage.

I'm finding that to say you are making stuffed cabbage is as specific as saying that you are making a pasta dish. Sometimes the actual whole cabbage is stuffed. Sometimes the leaves are rolled around the stuffing and you have cabbage rolls. Or every so often, as in this confusing dish, the leaves are layered with the stuffing. Sometimes the stuffing is meat. Sometimes there is rice. Sometimes there are vegetables. I had to narrow down the category.

For stuffed cabbage inspiration, I kept wanting to come back to my new and satisfyingly hip book, I Know How to Cook. I've talked about this book a few times since my friend Alice sent it to me for my birthday, and it continues to make me feel fancy just by holding it in my hands. It's a new version of an old book of generally simple and classic French cooking, and it's one of those books that is a mix of useful and timeless recipes along with weird old recipes that you would never want to try but love to look at.
I know there are these two categories, because I heard it on NPR, but because everything usually sounds like a good idea to me, I can't really seem to tell the difference. I'm just as likely to attempt the "gayettes" (if only I could find the requisite pig's liver, lungs, kidneys, and caul) as I am to make the timeless "coq au vin".

As I layered cognac soaked meat onto whole cabbage leaves, I started to think that I might have made a mistake. But in my thirty-one years I have yet to abandon a recipe, so I soldiered on.

In the end, I'm really not sure if I made this the way it was intended. People must have been more intelligent in 1932 when the book was first published. They must have just inherently known whether one would cut a cabbage before blanching or not. My confusion continued to lead me through the whole process, and in the end, it seemed outstandingly simple. Cabbage, meat, breadcrumbs. I was instructed to top it off with tomato sauce, and I whipped up a batch of this, which would be good on absolutely anything. I know it's cabbage week and all, but make this tomato sauce, even if it's only to pour over your cabbage.

All was well in the end. I thought it was quite tasty, and enjoyed my small square of stuffed cabbage from the corner of the baking dish. Joey however, ate the entire rest of the contents of the pan, save for the few bites that Sadie sampled. He was quiet, and sighed a lot, and he closed his eyes for the greater part of the dinner. This is amazing, he said. And with that, Joey embraced cabbage week.


Stuffed Cabbage a la Chatelaine
loosely adapted (or perhaps we should just say inspired) from Ginette Mathiot, I Know How to Cook

serves 4

1 green cabbage (about 3 lbs)
12 ounces ground pork sausage
1 tablespoon cognac
1/2 cup roughly chopped fresh parsley
3 tablespoons butter
1 cup fresh breadcrumbs (stale bread toasted and chopped finely by hand or in the food processor)
salt and pepper
1/4 cup water or stock

about 3-4 cups tomato sauce

Bring a large pot of salted water to boil. Preheat the oven to 325 degrees. Remove any of the damaged outer leaves from the cabbage and trim the bottom stem, removing as much as possible while keeping the cabbage together. (If you know a better way to prepare cabbage for blanching the whole leaves, by all means do it, and teach me how too). Submerge the cabbage in boiling water. It will float, so hold it down with a serving spoon. Cook it for about 5 minutes, and then submerge in ice water. Separate the leaves of the cabbage from the stem and set aside.
In a medium bowl, combine the ground sausage, cognac, parsley, salt and pepper. In an ovenproof casserole dish, lay out a layer of cabbage leaves. Then a layer of stuffing. Repeat until you have run out of stuffing. End with a layer of stuffing, and then all of the breadcrumbs. Pour the 1/4 cup water or stock over the whole thing. Cover with tin foil and put in the oven. Bake for one hour, then remove the tin foil and bake one hour more. Serve topped with tomato sauce.

italian bread and cabbage soup

We're finally here. Are you ready?

I bet you are.

Cabbage week is starting off with a bang over here. My house smells...fabulous.
I am not getting rickets anytime soon.

My mother came over for lunch today. She's not a cabbage fan, but she knows it is cabbage week, so I was pretty sure she would understand. I made this cabbage and bread soup, layered with butter and topped with cheese. It was salty and lovely with a little bit of crunch to the cabbage. The cold wind hit the windows while we ate, and I felt warmer and warmer with every bite.


My mom wanted you to know that she had seconds.

I had seconds too.



This recipe belongs to the long list of wonderful things to make when you are lucky enough to have stale bread in your possession. Some people don't know what they've got when they have a good hard loaf of bread on their counter. You're not going to believe this but some people actually (are you sitting down here?) throw it away! I know! Think how much perfectly stale bread goes in the compost, or even more horribly, the garbage! Oy. Just think of all that panzanella, all that bread pudding. So many heavenly garlic croutons? Today that bread is going straight into the pot. And while the cold wind whips outside, you will be warm, warm, warm.


Italian Bread and Cabbage Soup
adapted from Moosewood New Classics

serves 2-3, but will double perfectly

3 cups cubed bread (any kind will do but a sourdough or a hearty rye will be especially nice)
3 tablespoons butter
3 cups thinly sliced cabbage (red or green or a mixture)
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
1/2 teaspoon salt, or more to taste
3 cups chicken or vegetable stock
1 cup grated havarti dill cheese (or fontina or gruyere if that is what you have)

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Put a medium pot of salted water on to boil. While the oven is preheating, lay the cubed bread on a baking sheet and throw it in the oven for a few minutes so it can get a little harder. Take the bread out of the oven, and spread the cubes evenly in an ovenproof casserole dish. Melt two of the tablespoons of butter and drizzle it over the bread cubes.
When the water boils, blanch the cabbage until tender, about 3-5 minutes. Drain well, and spread the cabbage over the bread. Melt the remaining tablespoon of butter and stir in the nutmeg, pepper and salt. Pour the seasoned butter over the cabbage and bread. Pour the stock over everything and evenly spread the cheese on top.

Bake uncovered until the cheese starts to brown, 25 or 30 minutes, Serve immediately.

stir-fried green cabbage with fennel seeds

I am home sick today.
It has been coming for days, and I have given in. I am no fun to be with when I am sick- that pale-faced-green- bathrobed-pity-seeking me is a friend that you do not need, so I will be brief.
In an effort to escape from myself today, I want to give you a little preview of a time when I will be well again, optimistic and rosy cheeked. Let's talk about next week.
Next week, I am kicking off a little event I'd like to call cabbage week.
Exciting, right? I know!
In honor of February, the time before the tax return arrives, the month that begs for creativity, I will be exploring the eternal possibility of the cabbage. Yes, while my girls are making their valentines (no store bought cinderella cards make it past Joey- I really mean making here), I will be making cabbage rolls, and other things I hope.
Why cabbage? Well, it's cheap, for most of you it may even still be local, and I find it to be drastically underutilized. So, every day-ish, there will be new way to cook a cabbage. Stock up, just to be ready. And please, do share your cabbage favorites- I'll make them and post them up. It will be a full on cabbage party. Today, to whet your whistle, an early gift.

Stir-Fried Green Cabbage with Fennel Seeds
adapted from Madhur Jaffrey, Quick and Easy Indian Cookery
serves 4

1 1/2 pounds green cabbage (half a large head)
4 tablespoons vegetable oil
3/4 teaspoon cumin seeds
1/2 teaspoon fennel seeds
1 teaspoon sesame seeds
7 oz (about 2 small) onions, peeled and cut into fine half rings
1 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon chili powder
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1/2 teaspoon garam masala (optional)

Remove the course outer leaves of the cabbage. Remove the core, and cut the cabbage sections, lengthwise, into very thin strips.
Put the oil into a wide sautee pan and set over medium to high heat.
When hot, put in the cumin, fennel, and sesame seeds. When the sesame seeds begin to pop, put in the onions. Stir and fry for about three minutes, or until the onions are beginning to brown. Add the cabbage to the pan. Stir and fry for about 5 minutes, or until the cabbage also begins to brown. Add the salt and chili powder. Turn down the heat to med low, and cook, stirring occasionally for another 7 or 8 minutes. Add the lemon juice, and garam masala, if using. Serve hot.

buttered cabbage

Seven years ago today, Joey and I got married at Town Hall. We were in the throws of wedding planning for our big ceremony that would happen two weeks later, a snowy lasagne filled house party event, but we had chosen a friend of ours to officiate, and so needed to do the legal deed earlier. It was 10 in the morning, and five degrees out. We were 23, and I was six months pregnant. We got married and went out to lunch. Then we had an ultrasound and we met Sadie.
I had a friend in Santa Fe back then who was having some marital problems. She and her husband had married young and had two children.
"The seven year itch is no joke," she told me. "This last year has been hell. If you make it through the seventh year, you can make it through anything."
I thought of seven years and it stretched out in the distance. It was incomprehensible. I knew very few people who had managed to stay married for seven years.

Seven years.

Looking forward to seven more. And maybe even seven more after that.

And what does this all have to do with buttered cabbage? Well I could say that marriage is like a cabbage, unveiling more beauty and nutrition with every leaf, opening like a flower of love, good fermented, roasted, or stuffed with goodness....


but really, it's what we had for dinner. And it's really the best way to eat cabbage that I know of. I don't mean best as in you can tolerate it, I mean best as in phenomenal no matter how you feel about cabbage. Joey made me a snow yurt in the front yard while I made an actual pork roast for dinner, and buttered cabbage. And it's that kind of exchange that has helped to get us this far, and hopefully we'll be able to keep making things for each other for a long time.

Also, I have a kitchen mix for you tonight. I know it's been a little while, but I hope you'll feel it's been worth the wait. You can download it here, and play it while you make dinner, and let me know what you think. Song listing is here, where you can also catch up on the rest of the kitchen tunes.

Buttered Cabbage
from Alice Waters, The Art of Simple Food

One head of red or green cabbage
2-3 Tablespoons butter
salt

Remove any damaged outer leaves from the cabbage. Cut the head in half and remove the core. Cut the halves into quarters and slice thin. Put the cabbage into a large pan with about 1 1/2 inches of water and the butter. Cover, bring to a boil- then reduce the heat to a simmer. Cook for about 15 minutes, or until the cabbage is tender. Drain, add salt to taste, and serve hot.