Once upon a time and budget from a lifetime of city-living ago, a friend shared a cost-saving mantra: “Cabbage is the New Kale”.
Me? I wasn't ready yet. However, our day would come.
This way of life and cooking has since blossomed into a near timeless relationship between the two of us.
The second two. Cabbage and me.
Duh, I adored kale. I could hardly get enough. It was a new era of green juices, Kale Caesars and what started it all: the massaged kale salad.
Cabbage was another story.
It was perpetual, it was slaw, and it was always in take-out Chinese and Thai food.
But. It wasn’t something on my grocery list.
I just didn’t think much about it. Yet.
It was an Italian preparation courtesy of my then-newer + immediately adored copy of Micol Negrin’s The Best Pasta Sauces that changed my entire outlook on cabbage. Maybe my whole life?
Around this time, say 2016, I had found myself enamored with the almost comical, actually conical ‘Cone’ variety – aka the ‘Pointed’ or ‘Sugarloaf’ cabbage - that had been making appearances at weekend farmers markets. A trending veg, if I may.
It caught my eye, and there I was, pointedly, ba da bum, picking up cabbages on the reg. My bag getting heavier. Firm Savoy, hearty Red, crisp Napa. They were officially on my list.
This was now (okay, then) my mid-30s (ish), and I was very much going through a rather Italian American swing after being gifted a pasta maker. Finally! I was cooking my way through the aforementioned cookbook, among others from the library, as I’m wont to do.
I put aside my wok and the black vinegar I reached for with hot & sour-esque cabbage. It was time to try something new.
Let me get to the point. Again : )
So. The ‘Sugo di Salsiccia e Cavolo Verza’ - one of four cabbage-riffic recipes in the book - has the reader/home cook stew Savoy cabbage down with sausage and a bit of tomato, which duh, in my case meant veggie sausage. The finished dish is a truly savoury, twirl-your-fork spaghetti affair. Succulent. Toothsome, even. I’d never made anything quite like it before.
(Even better is downright caramelized radicchio, although I’ll save my love affair with bitter chicory pastas for another tale. I’m already swooning…)
This one (admittedly, not-so photogenic) recipe - at heart, the rustic concept of cabbage +pasta + sausage - from the mountainous Marches region of central Italy - immediately made its way into my repertoire of cabbage dishes, which only increased in repetition once I said farewell to that year-round access to kales and well, any other fresh greens. Can you imagine?!
I traded Lacinato for Savoy. Red Russian for Red. Curly Green for Napa.
Stir-fried, stewed, braised, roasted, slaw’d, quartered, fermented, even smoked, grilled, and yeah, another round of slaw to top all those bowls and slabs of crispy buffalo tofu. Cabbage called. It was there for me.
REWIND… For much of this past month, I returned to the Northwest. The land of kale, and a few weeks ago the start of all things Spring raabs and rapinis. (Repeat after me: Stories for another day. I do declare that a promise.)
One day, while “in town” on an errand, I was literally stopped in my tracks by a sign that reminded me of the phrase I started this cabbage crusade of a memory lane to begin with. This one went a little differently: “More Kale for Less Cabbage” !
Don’t get me wrong, I got the gist. I did not disagree.
I comprehend that this advertising equated kale as the desirable, higher priced green.
Of course, in this day and age - and the locale being the hip West Coast.
Kale is everywhere. It’s nutritious, it’s easily cooked, it seriously grows year-round, and yes, kale is often way more interesting than cabbage.
What was implied in this sign, and what is understood in my own current existence of continued out-there-living, was that cabbage is then so much of so a mainstay, that it was considered currency. Same goes for my life. Both nothing new for me and cabbage. Er, cabbage and I.
Stored for a season, or two, or three. Fermented for longevity as kraut and kimchi. Stewed for warmth. Fresh nearly forev as slaw. The cabbage chorus.
Cabbage was more of a way of life and sustenance these past few months than I would say imaginable. Well, that’s totally not true. Consider the cabbage. I did.
Carrots, Potatoes, Cabbage = The constants of our first long winter in Wyoming… that’s almost coming to an end. What a ring to that.
The CPC = A not-so-holy trinity of staple veg. Often the only veg. Inevitable longevity.
Months without a store! Living out of the freezer!
Living like this keeps things…interesting.
It wasn’t as hard as I thought, as bizarre as it sounds when described to outsiders.
The friends I caught up with recently were surprised to hear that this corner of Wyoming-meets-Montana is technically, far more remote than our five years-plus in Alaska. True stories.
Looking back, already, I have a fondness for it all. Hurrah to the confidence of casual cooking. Because you can, because you have to. What am I gonna do, go five months with frozen Lean Cuisines?!?! Pish.
I realize YOU are most likely not cooking cabbage by necessity. My brother in NYC tells me he can’t buy cabbage. It goes bad too quickly. I’m here to shake my head in bewilderment. Do I get fresher cabbage in Alaska and Montana? Well, at the time, harvested directly from farms however possible come late summer/early fall. Then that time passes, and the cabbages remain. We had 4 huge Montana-grown cabbages to last us through the winter. They did their job. We all got each other through.
SOME HISTORY… Pondering the vitamin-rich cabbage and its origins, I began to unpeel the layers of history with this brassica. I learned that it has its edible roots in history going back to the era of ‘antiquity’ in the Southern European/Mediterranean region, prior to 1000 BC.
Cabbage continued its way into popularity + dependency across the greater European continent, Asia and the Americas during the 1400-1500s (CE) and beyond. Go another century or two of colonization and global “exploration”, and cabbage and kraut were often brought on board ships to combat what was being ascertained to be scurvy. The cabbage continued.
I read somewhere (I swear) that the once-wild predecessors to today’s giant green cabbages have their domesticated origins in the regions that so many rightfully associate with brine + cabbage: the greater British Isles. And as you may know, cabbage became an absolute necessity during the Great Potato Famine of the late 1800s. Fascinating, intense, world-changing history.
Personally, growing up, when I thought ‘CABBAGE’, I thought corned beef, sauerkraut and later on, kimchi. All quite flavorful, resilient foods. Not that I ate any of them as a picky child.
Who else with Irish roots can instantly channel the salty, aromatic nostalgia of massive pots of Corned Beef & Cabbage on the stove from their own lives, and/or countless Irish pubs?
It was made once a year in my own childhood; nary forgotten. There’s also the memory of trying my mom’s rare go’s at Bubble & Squeak and Colcannon, where the names were far more fun than the meals themselves to little ‘ol me. I recall these dishes being cooked in March to document the Irish heritage on my paternal grandfather’s side. In other words, lots of cabbage and potatoes were on the table. Thinking to myself: Why would I eat wet cabbage when I could eat spoonfuls of buttery mashed potatoes? Sheesh, pass me the Irish Soda Bread already!
The thought of cabbage may not necessarily excite. However, it feeds me, Seymour. For ages.
How do *you* cabbage?
A Cacophony of References + Relevant Links from Cabbage-dom:
9 Impressive Health Benefits of Cabbage, healthline
The Age of Scurvy, Distillations Magazine - Science History Institute August 14, 2017
The Best Pasta Sauces by Micol Negrin
Cabbage, the Irish and St. Patrick’s Day, modern farmer March 16, 2015
Ethiopian Tikil Gomen, Abyssinia Eats
Sichuan-Style Hot & Sour Cabbage, Food & Wine
“Still-winter stewed tomato, garlic & cabbage with white beans” recipe, via these scone archives
Of Cabbage and Celts, Texas A&M AgriLife Extension
Once a year, the humble cabbage gets the spotlight it deserves, The Boston Globe via msn.com March 12, 2024
Thai and True - my go-to, made-in-Oregon packaged curry pastes & Thai sauces of recent time (my former fave Oregon brand has since gone watery & way up in price, alas). Great shipping, too.
Why Vegetables Get Freakish in the Land of the Midnight Sun, NPR August 20, 2024
Winter Minestrone, aka Minestrone Invernale, Lidia’s Italy
I love cabbage! When I was a kid my grandma gave me raw cabbage to snack on while I helped her make dinner. I now give my kid raw cabbage on his dinner plate after I gave him some while he was helping me make dinner. He loves it more than I did!
We always have a cabbage in the fridge because it never seems to go bad! Slaws, stir fries, added to ramen or tacos. What a great crispy veggie to have around!
I love cabbage! In many ways. Though not so much raw, more because my guts don't appreciate it.
During lockdown when vegetables were so limited, cabbage was a trusted friend in my frigde. One cabbage seemed to last forever!