By Kay Rentschler from
http://www.e-cookbooks.net/articles/cabbage.htm
NOTHING says winter vegetable like
a head of cabbage. I see one just now, heading into a steam bath
with a sack of potatoes and a side of pork. Of course, winter has no exclusive
rights to cabbage, which can find itself scraped raw on a box grater in
July. There is, however, something in a cabbage's gravity, the inscrutability
of its smooth, round face, and the jealous grip it keeps on its inner leaves
that tells the cook to chop, steam and soften.
Cuisines that have adopted the cabbage as their
own - Russian, Polish and Hungarian in particular (the Germans
and Austrians got partial custody) - agree. They
bundle up cabbage and get it good and warm, then stuff it, use it to stuff
other things, stew it, sauté it, salt it and simmer it some more.
The silky richness and sweet pungency that
result explain why winter and cabbage arrive
together in the same frosted breath.
It is not surprising that head cabbage (green,
red and Savoy), the stoutest and most stalwart of the wild cabbage
family, stayed up north, while some of its sexier
relatives, like lacinato (black kale) and broccoli rabe, headed south to
drizzle olive oil on their leaves.
Green and red cabbages weather temperatures between cool and downright cold - 20 degrees will not faze them - and can step up to the heat as well. The crinkly, smiling Savoy cabbage, on the other hand, is more tender and sweet in character than its counterparts and frilly enough to shiver. As such, Savoy cabbage has made its culinary home in moderate European climates like those of England and France.
Cabbage has enjoyed fame and perfidy. The ancient Romans celebrated its blood-cleansing properties, particularly in the context of hangovers. Today, doctors tell us to tank up on cabbage for its antioxidant and potentially anti-cancer benefits. But throughout much of history, cabbage has suffered marketing problems. Considered a poor man's food, it was deemed unworthy of preparation by Europe's great chefs (Lewis Carroll's fanciful "cabbages and kings" speech conveyed the incongruity of the two words in a single phrase), and to this day carries a whiff of poverty about it.
Unfortunately, that is not the only whiff we get
from cabbage, especially boiled cabbage, whose sulfuric
compounds sneak through cracks and keyholes to
hang poisonously in the hall. The best solution to cabbage odor
is simple: stay very low on the fire, low temps
& don't overcook it. Some of the very compounds that make cabbage healthful
and tasty (called glucosinolates) turn ugly when they leach from the vegetable,
into its cooking liquid and off into space. Proper cooking also assures
that nutrients stay where they are supposed to - in the cabbage, not in
the cooking liquid.
Consumption of cabbage is thought to occasion
bloating, which can lead to social embarrassment. How nice for
everyone that caraway seed, a medieval answer
to those ills, pulls a double shift as antidote and aromatic.
No cabbage deserves to be boiled, a Hungarian chef once told me. Indeed, a gentle braise, brief simmer or leisurely sauté pays off handsomely when cooking cabbage, which will smell and taste sweet for your troubles. Red cabbage is higher in fiber and takes longer to cook than green. Cabbage is still dirt cheap, but squeaky clean. No garden grit enters its inner sphere, so it is core, chop and go! for the cook.
Having considered one head much like the next,
I was surprised to find that green and red cabbage come with
dozens of proper names. Given the abundance of
carefully cultivated cabbage types, I wondered if consumers could be trained
to recognize differences among them. Unfortunately, said Dr. Matt Kleinhenz,
an Ohio State University horticulturist and cabbage enthusiast, our options
are not as abundant as they might seem.
Most cabbage varieties, he said, are developed with mass marketing in mind (for sauerkraut, coleslaw and the like); those sold loose in stores are considered all-purpose and bear no labels at all. Growers have worked to make all cabbage mild and unassertive - vanilla, in effect, he said.
So, assuming that vanilla is what you want, what should you look for when buying cabbage? Taut, glistening leaves free of little holes or discoloration, and bowling ball density in the hand. And color? Red cabbage is consistently colored throughout. Green cabbage, however, becomes progressively paler toward the center, Dr. Kleinhenz said. Heads with a minimal green in their outer leaves have been heavily trimmed, suggesting they may be old or that there were problems on the farm, in storage or in transit. Short answer: go for the green.
Here we are then, an ice rink of winter before us. There is plenty of time for a few plates of cabbage. The fusty king? Forget him. The head that rolls may be his own.
Cabbage and Potato Gratin With
Mustard Bread Crumbs
1/3 cup slab bacon in 1/4-inch dice
3/8 cup yellow onion in 1/4-inch dice
1 1/2 cups Yukon Gold potatoes in 1/2-inch dice
1 small bay leaf
1 1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
8 cups green cabbage in 1-inch dice
1/2 cup heavy cream
For the bread crumbs:
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 1/4 cups fresh white bread crumbs
1 garlic clove, minced
Pinch salt
Pinch cayenne pepper
2 teaspoons Dijon mustard
2 teaspoons chopped parsley
3/8 cup Comté or Gruyère cheese, grated.
1. Heat oven to 425 degrees. Place bacon in a 12-inch sauté pan
over medium heat
and cook about 2 minutes. Add onion and sauté, stirring frequently,
until bacon is
crisp and onion is golden, about 5 minutes. Add potatoes, bay leaf,
salt and pepper
and sauté, stirring, for 2 minutes. Add cabbage and sauté,
stirring frequently until
cabbage wilts a bit, about 5 minutes.
2. Turn cabbage mixture into a shallow 1 1/2 or 2-quart casserole dish.
Pour cream
into sauté pan and reduce over high heat, stirring constantly
with a wooden spoon
until cream is reduced by half, about 2 minutes. Pour cream over cabbage
and stir
to mix. Cover casserole with foil. Bake 10 minutes.
3. Meanwhile, melt butter in a 10-inch skillet over low heat. When it
is foamy, add
bread crumbs and sauté, stirring constantly with a wooden spoon,
until crisp and
golden, 5 to 7 minutes. Remove from heat, add garlic, salt, cayenne
pepper, mustard
and parsley, stirring well to combine. Sprinkle casserole with cheese,
then with bread
crumbs, and return to oven uncovered. Bake until fragrant and bubbling
slightly around
edges, about 5 minutes. Serve as a side dish to roast fowl, pork or
meaty fish like
monk or halibut.
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Cabbage and Sparerib Soup
1 teaspoon caraway seeds
1 teaspoon paprika
2 teaspoons dry mustard
1 tablespoon dark brown sugar
Salt
Pinch cayenne pepper
1 1/4 pounds pork spareribs (about 8 ribs or 1/2 rack)
1 head garlic, peeled, cloves crushed
Vegetable spray
6 cups rich chicken stock
2 cups diced yellow onions
6 generous cups green cabbage in 1-inch dice
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
2 teaspoons chopped parsley for garnish.
1. In a spice grinder process caraway seeds, paprika and mustard until
fine. Turn into
a bowl with brown sugar, 1 teaspoon salt and the cayenne; fluff with
fingertips.
2. Dry ribs well with paper towels, and rub both sides with spices and
crushed garlic.
Place ribs on a small rack or plate, cover with plastic wrap, and refrigerate
at least
6 hours or overnight.
3. Adjust oven rack to lowest position, and heat oven to 425 degrees.
Spray a sheet
pan lightly with vegetable spray. Brush garlic cloves from ribs, place
ribs in a sheet
pan, and roast until a deep golden brown, about 30 minutes. Remove
from oven.
4. Transfer ribs to a 5-quart Dutch oven; pour rendered fat (about 2
tablespoons)
from sheet pan into a large heavy skillet, and set aside. Place sheet
pan on 2 burners
over high heat, add 1 cup water, and stir with a wooden spoon to dislodge
browned
bits. Pour deglazing liquid and stock into Dutch oven, cover, and bring
to simmer
over medium-high heat. Reduce heat to low, and simmer gently until
ribs are tender,
turning occasionally, about 1 1/2 hours. Remove ribs from broth, and
cool slightly.
5. While ribs simmer, sauté onions and cabbage in a skillet over
medium-high heat,
stirring frequently, until lightly browned, about 20 minutes. Add 1
teaspoon salt and
the black pepper; stir to combine. Set aside.
6. Pull pork off bones, trim off bits of cartilage, and dice meat. Discard
bones. Return
meat to soup base, add cabbage and onions, and simmer about 15 minutes.
Serve,
garnished with parsley.
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OK-- that was child's play, CABBAGE grade school. Now......
IF YOU ARE A GENIUS, make SAUERKRAUT,
the real deal. Very health conferring.
Make it, serve it, automatic PHD for cabbage
heads!
And if you want to please your family, make HUNGARIAN STUFFED CABBAGE!
This is as it comes off stove, before you pour
on the thin tomato sweet sauce which you
serve it a POOL of!!! Dot with
softened raisins!
WOW!