Well, not kings really. Talking about cabbage always makes me think about Alice in Wonderland, the Disney movie. There's the scene with the Walrus and the Carpenter and the song has some lyric about cabbages and kings. This was pretty much my most constant exposure to cabbage as a child. The only time I can remember my mother making cabbage was a less than thrilling attempt at corned beef and cabbage. Irish we are not. The whole house reeked of overcooked cabbage for days. Or at least that's how I remember it.
The first time I remember eating cabbage and liking it was in college. I was having dinner at a professor's house and his wife made a really delicious red cabbage dish. I have no idea what was in it or how it was cooked. I just remember having seconds and then thirds. The cabbage was soft but still had some structure, rather like properly cooked pasta. It was both sweet and savory and there was nary a waft of sulfur to be found.
It wasn't until very recently, last week in fact, that I ever attempted to cook cabbage myself. It simply hadn't occurred to me to do so. But given my desire to at least attempt to eat more vegetables I thought I'd give it a try, though the fact that green cabbage was on sale for 18 cents a pound was probably the deciding factor. So there I was standing at my kitchen counter wondering what on earth I could do with it. Coming up with nothing I turned to one of my kitchen fail safes - The New Best Recipe from America's Test Kitchen. This is my favorite and most frequently used cook book. Only once has is failed me (we'll talk more about my ill fated pound cake later I'm sure), so I have great faith in it. I flipped to the index and scrolled for the letter "C." My first thought had been to simply saute the cabbage in a little butter with a few slivers of apple (I vaugely remembered cabbage and apple being a common pairing). However, the book pointed to braising as a better way to infuse flavor into the bland vegetable and a good way to keep the bottom bits from overcooking before the top was done. I can braise, so why not?
This brings me to my dinner tonight. My husband was out with a friend so I had the kitchen to myself. Whenever I'm only cooking for myself I always have the dilemma of whether to bother "cooking" or just heat up prepared foods or just snack all night. I just finished reading Food Matters by Mark Bittman which urges us all to eat more vegetables and actually cook for ourselves in the interest not only of our taste buds and health, but for the planet as a whole. In the face of such a recent admonition I just had to actually cook. I opened the refridgerator door and what did I find - oh yes - the cabbage!
I put a small dutch oven on medium and threw in a pat of butter to melt. As the pot heated, I diced a bit of onion (maybe 1/4 cup worth). I tossed these in the warm pot and stirred until all the pieces had a nice coating of butter. While those cooked I took out the cabbage and cut it into ribbons. Looking back to the onions I stirred them occasionally until they started going translucent and a few pieces started getting a tad brown. Then I tossed in the cabbage (about 1/3 of a head) and poured in maybe 1/2-1 cup of chicken stock. Then I popped a lid on the pot and walked away.
About 8-10 minutes later I went back to the stove to check on the cabbage and gve it a good stir. The cabbage on the bottom was softening and absorbing some of the stock. Now that it was wilted I could stir the cabbage, making sure that the most crisp looking bits got to the bottom. At this point the cabbage was taking on a nice flavor, but was still a bit crunchy. I added a small pinch of salt and several turns of fresh ground black pepper, stirred them in and put the lid back on.
As I stood there thinking about my impending meal, I recognized that if all I had for dinner was cabbage that I would end up very hungry by about 10pm. I contemplated dicing some apple into it. While that would have been tasty (I really do love the contrast of sweet, salty, and savory that gives), I wanted something more substantial. I wanted protein. It was then that I remembered, on a whim, buying a kielbasa sausage. I thought to myself - well, the Germans eat a lot of cabbage and they eat a lot of sausage, so surely they must go well together. Fuzzy logic - yes, incorrect conclusion - no (though I admit the conclusion didn't exactly flow from the premises). So, while the cabbage finished cooking I cut a roughly 4 inch section of sausage into slices and then cut those slices in half and tossed them in a small skillet. I cooked the sausage until it was piping hot and had some nice browning.
I took the cabbage off the heat when I they had a texture I liked (no crunchy bits left). I tast cabbage constantly during the end of the cooking process because I have a mortal fear of overcooking it and releasing the sulfides within. A stinky kitchen isn't exactly conducive to a pleasant meal.
Once both the cabbage and sausage were done I piled the cabbage high in a bowl (allowing any excess moisture to stay in the pot, not in my bowl) and topped it with the sausage. I highly recommend letting is sit for a minute so that some of the kielbasa's juices can seep out and then mixing them into the rest of the cabbage - so tasty!
The first time I remember eating cabbage and liking it was in college. I was having dinner at a professor's house and his wife made a really delicious red cabbage dish. I have no idea what was in it or how it was cooked. I just remember having seconds and then thirds. The cabbage was soft but still had some structure, rather like properly cooked pasta. It was both sweet and savory and there was nary a waft of sulfur to be found.
It wasn't until very recently, last week in fact, that I ever attempted to cook cabbage myself. It simply hadn't occurred to me to do so. But given my desire to at least attempt to eat more vegetables I thought I'd give it a try, though the fact that green cabbage was on sale for 18 cents a pound was probably the deciding factor. So there I was standing at my kitchen counter wondering what on earth I could do with it. Coming up with nothing I turned to one of my kitchen fail safes - The New Best Recipe from America's Test Kitchen. This is my favorite and most frequently used cook book. Only once has is failed me (we'll talk more about my ill fated pound cake later I'm sure), so I have great faith in it. I flipped to the index and scrolled for the letter "C." My first thought had been to simply saute the cabbage in a little butter with a few slivers of apple (I vaugely remembered cabbage and apple being a common pairing). However, the book pointed to braising as a better way to infuse flavor into the bland vegetable and a good way to keep the bottom bits from overcooking before the top was done. I can braise, so why not?
This brings me to my dinner tonight. My husband was out with a friend so I had the kitchen to myself. Whenever I'm only cooking for myself I always have the dilemma of whether to bother "cooking" or just heat up prepared foods or just snack all night. I just finished reading Food Matters by Mark Bittman which urges us all to eat more vegetables and actually cook for ourselves in the interest not only of our taste buds and health, but for the planet as a whole. In the face of such a recent admonition I just had to actually cook. I opened the refridgerator door and what did I find - oh yes - the cabbage!
I put a small dutch oven on medium and threw in a pat of butter to melt. As the pot heated, I diced a bit of onion (maybe 1/4 cup worth). I tossed these in the warm pot and stirred until all the pieces had a nice coating of butter. While those cooked I took out the cabbage and cut it into ribbons. Looking back to the onions I stirred them occasionally until they started going translucent and a few pieces started getting a tad brown. Then I tossed in the cabbage (about 1/3 of a head) and poured in maybe 1/2-1 cup of chicken stock. Then I popped a lid on the pot and walked away.
About 8-10 minutes later I went back to the stove to check on the cabbage and gve it a good stir. The cabbage on the bottom was softening and absorbing some of the stock. Now that it was wilted I could stir the cabbage, making sure that the most crisp looking bits got to the bottom. At this point the cabbage was taking on a nice flavor, but was still a bit crunchy. I added a small pinch of salt and several turns of fresh ground black pepper, stirred them in and put the lid back on.
As I stood there thinking about my impending meal, I recognized that if all I had for dinner was cabbage that I would end up very hungry by about 10pm. I contemplated dicing some apple into it. While that would have been tasty (I really do love the contrast of sweet, salty, and savory that gives), I wanted something more substantial. I wanted protein. It was then that I remembered, on a whim, buying a kielbasa sausage. I thought to myself - well, the Germans eat a lot of cabbage and they eat a lot of sausage, so surely they must go well together. Fuzzy logic - yes, incorrect conclusion - no (though I admit the conclusion didn't exactly flow from the premises). So, while the cabbage finished cooking I cut a roughly 4 inch section of sausage into slices and then cut those slices in half and tossed them in a small skillet. I cooked the sausage until it was piping hot and had some nice browning.
I took the cabbage off the heat when I they had a texture I liked (no crunchy bits left). I tast cabbage constantly during the end of the cooking process because I have a mortal fear of overcooking it and releasing the sulfides within. A stinky kitchen isn't exactly conducive to a pleasant meal.
Once both the cabbage and sausage were done I piled the cabbage high in a bowl (allowing any excess moisture to stay in the pot, not in my bowl) and topped it with the sausage. I highly recommend letting is sit for a minute so that some of the kielbasa's juices can seep out and then mixing them into the rest of the cabbage - so tasty!
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