Dark Days Challenge (week 2): Cabbage rolls and the Failed Sauerkraut

It's getting cold in Victoria. Cold enough that the layer of freshwater that sits on top of the saltwater in the Inner Harbour froze. Victorians are not like prairie folks. They like their winters mild (meaning, some rain, some fog, and not much else), their car engines without heating blocks, and they've never heard of socials (usually a fundraising event for someone's wedding).  However, I do have something in common with those dear little shops in Winnipeg run by Ukrainian or Polish babas or babcias (grandmothers) that sell borscht nd holubtsi - I love to make (and eat) cabbage rolls.

The fist-sized gołąbki or holubtsi has a shadowy history that probably goes back well before the 15th century, but apparently cabbage rolls had a role in empowering the Polish army to defeat the Teutonic Order in 1465. There are cabbage roll variants all over the world. My mother used to stuff kale leaves with a mixture of meat and sticky rice. In Turkey, they make sarma - large plant leaves stuffed with a meat filling. Another variant called holishkes is considered a traditional Jewish dish served at Sukkot. My own introduction to cabbage rolls began in Victoria well over a decade ago when I worked at a cafe for a Filipino woman who was married to a Mormon Ukrainian. Son of Thunder, we called him. She did make great cabbage rolls though.

Back at the Dark Days Challenge kitchen, I had a beautiful head of locally grown savoy cabbage, light emerald in colour with lovely leaves. Perfect for making cabbage rolls. I cut out its core most carefully as you can see above. I dropped the entire cabbage into a pot of boiling salted water for 5 - 8 minutes until the leaves were softened. I popped the cabbage into a strainer and waited until it cooled down.

Working carefully from the hollowed out core, I peeled off the leaves carefully and put them in a pile on the counter. I used the tiny leaves at the core to line my baking pan. I tucked a bay leaf or two in there for flavour.

If the leaf rib is too thick or knobbly, neatly slice it down. Or you can do what I did. Use your fists of Dark Days kitchen fury and give it a good thwack. One of the objectives of my cabbage rolls is to achieve fist-sized rolls (I've seen tinier rolls the width and length of two fingers. I like mine bigger). A fist sized roll requires about three to four generous tablespoons or one icecream scoop of meat filling. I don't measure, so I'm guessing. At any rate, the filling should look about like that when you plop it onto your cabbage.

Lift the end of cabbage closest to you and bring it up so that it just covers the meat filling.

Fold over the right and left sides of the cabbage. Your little cabbage packet should be forming nicely. If the cabbage doesn't bend easily, it means you didn't steam it long enough. Pop it into the microwave to soften it up if the cabbage is breaking on you.

With your fingers, make sure the meat filling is nicely packed into the folded cabbage. Hold both ends of the cabbage roll and turn it over so that the end of the cabbage leaf furthest from you covers the folded-in sides. Place the roll in your baking pan with the open leaf end facing down.

With all that cabbage in the kitchen, I decided to try my hand at making sauerkraut. We mandolined the cabbage into a fine shred.

We gently crushed some juniper berries and mixed it in with the rest of the ingredients. After a week, it was a smelly, moldy, terrible mess. An utter failure. However, the cabbage rolls were a delightful, delicious success.

Don't be afraid to use two cabbages! Once cooked, cabbage rolls keep quite well in the freezer. Just foil wrap them in meal-sized portions, put them in ziploc bags and they'll be just fine. I ate mine after several months and they were still quite good.

Ingredients

2 cups uncooked long grain rice

4 cups water

2 large heads savoy cabbage

1 cup water

2 onions, chopped and lightly sauteed until translucent

3 tablespoons butter 

1 tablespoon olive oil

3/4 cup uncooked long grain rice

1 pound extra-lean ground beef

1/2 pound spicy pork sausage or 1/4 pound kielbasa mixed with 1/4 pound pork sausage

4 cloves garlic, minced

2 teaspoons dried dill weed

1 full tsp smoked extra hot paprika 

2 teaspoons of ground coriander

3/4 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper

1/2 teaspoon white sugar

2 (28 ounce) canned whole peeled tomatoes, with liquid

8 bay leaves

Method 

1. Fill your kettle up and get it going. Get a pot big enough to fit one of your cabbages in.

2. Wash rice thoroughly. In a medium saucepan, combine 2 cups rice and 4 cups water. Bring to boil; reduce heat, cover and simmer for 20 minutes or until all of the water is absorbed.

3. Get a long thin knife - a boning knife is great for this - and remove the core from your cabbages. Pour your boiling water into your pot and make sure the water comes up to a boil. Salt the water. Put your cabbage into the boiling water and cook for 5 - 8 minutes. Put it in core side down first, and gently turn over once. Repeat with the other cabbage. Put them in a strainer and let them cool down enough so that you can handle them.

4. Peel the leaves as directed above in the photos.

5. Saute the onions in butter and olive oil. Add a bit of caraway seed if you like - perhaps a teaspoon. Don't brown your onions. You want them transcluent.

6. Get your biggest mixing bowl out. Mix the uncooked and cooked rice, onions, meats, and all the spices, salt and sugar together. Get in there and mix it well - I suggest getting in there with your super clean hands.

7. Pre-heat your oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Get two 9x13 baking dishes and line with the little abbage leaves that are too small to make rolls with. Nestle the rolls in a single layer, tightly together in the pans.

8. Run your tomatoes through a blender or food processor. You could add a bit of oregano or more dill to your tomato sauce if you like. Check the salt level in your sauce and add as required.  Pour sauce over the rolls until they're just covered. Place the bay leaves on top of the sauce, and cover each dish tightly with good aluminum foil (Use good foil - I used the not so good stuff and the acidity of the tomato ate through the foil. Gross.).

9. Bake for two hours. Let the pans cool for 15 minutes before removing the foil. Serve hot with potatoes and borsht.

*All ingredients were locally sourced except for the rice (closest rice growers to me are in California), pepper, paprika, and coriander.

An Affair to Remember: Brussel Sprouts

With some trepidation, this year, I decided to take up the gauntlet thrown down by the Dark Days Challenge to cook one meal per week that features SOLE (sustainable, organic, local and ethical) ingredients. And blog about it. And keep this up between November 27, 2011 until March 31, 2011. Did I mention I live on Vancouver Island? (Vancouver Island is not known for grain production, so helloooo potatoes.) Did I also mention I just moved house with Ck and changed jobs? 

Enough with the explanations and caveats. Among all the things I love about the late fall/early winter are brussel sprouts. It's a love that came to me recently. My memories of brussel sprouts as a child involve muddied green vegetables that verged on the bitter and profane. Little did I know then about the miracles of high heat, olive oil, and good local salt. After buying an enormous stalk of brussel sprouts grown at the local family-owned farm, Michell Farms, I considered the possibilities.

First I washed, trimmed the ends of these beauties, and cut them in half.  With the first batch, I simply tossed them with a good cold-pressed olive oil and locally made salt from Vancouver Island Salt Company. I popped them into a 400 degree Fahrenheit oven on a cookie sheet. You cook them for about eight minutes, flipping once. Don't crowd the sheet like I did. After I flipped them, I popped a little sliver of goat cheese I obtained from the Saltspring Island Cheese Company on each piece. These brussel sprouts are both delicious and an incredibly addictive finger food. I found serving them to people while they're drinking and watching you cook is an effective way to stave off the hangry [hang-ree]. Urban Dictionary defines 'hangry' as the state of being so hungry that one either becomes angry or frustrated or both.

With the second batch, I did something a little different. I tossed them with lovely local honey my good friend Matthew Tooley purveys at the Cottlestone Apiary, a bit of olive oil, and a smidgen of sesame seeds (yes, not from the island, but I'm going to cry 'Uncle!' and say it's the spice I needed). This is my most favourite way to cook and consume brussel sprouts. I hope you love them too. 

Honey-Sesame Roasted Brussel Sprouts

4 cups brussel sprouts, trimmed and halved
2 tablespoons of honey
1 tablespoon of olive oil
1 tablespoon of walnut/grapeseed/peanut oil
salt to taste
2 tablespoons sesame seeds 

Method:

Preheat oven to 400° Fahrenheit.

Toss brussel sprouts with a mixture of olive oil and honey. Sprinkle with a pinch of salt.

Bake for 20-25 minutes on a cookie sheet. If you want lovely colour, be a bit precise and finicky and flip them each over at the 10 minute mark.

Remove from the oven when they're well browned and toss with the sesame seeds.

Serve immediately. Serves four.