No-Mayo Cole Slaw

When I was offered a review copy of Scratch by Maria Rodale. I was wondering what sort of book it would be. The Rodale name is associated with healthy foods, and sometimes I feel like they're maybe just a tiny little too healthy.

I mean, I think I eat well. But I also like to indulge once in a while. I'm not afraid of white flour or white rice.

So when I started reading the book, the author pointed out that this wasn't a diet book. There would be gluten and sugar and desserts stuff.

So, okay. It's not a diet book. That's good to know.

It's also not a junk food book. The recipes are from scratch, with real ingredients. Which, to be honest, is how I like to cook. Yeah, I cheat sometimes. Sometimes I buy frozen vegetables or bagged salad. But I like buying from the farmer's market and chopping fresh vegetables.

The first recipe I bookmarked was called Syrian Salad and it was similar to a Greek salad, which is something I love. Then I found a cole slaw recipe, minestrone soup, and oyster crackers. (Ooooh ... oyster crackers!) Those were just the ones on the short list. There were a ton of other recipes I could have made.

The recipes in the book are pretty straightforward. They use common ingredients. Recipes you can actually make, as-is, and without ordering ingredients online.

I decided to make the cole slaw, because I thought it would go well with the other things I was making for dinner. And cole slaw is something you can eat right after you make it, but it also tends to improve with a little bit of age. So it didn't matter that this made quite a bit of cole slaw.

The recipe suggested slicing the vegetables on a mandoline, but I had just sharpened my knives, so I wanted to play with my shiny sharp knives.

No-Mayo Cole Slaw
Adapted from Scratch by Maria Rodale

For the dressing:
1/2 cup apple cider vinegar
6 tablespoons sugar, or to taste (I used 4 tablespoon. I might try 3 next time because I like tart stuff)
6 tablespoons vegetable oil
1/2 teaspoon celery seeds
1/2 teaspoon salt (I used 1/2 teaspoon celery salt and no seeds)

For the salad:
1 head of cabbage, cored and thinly sliced
1 red onion, thinly sliced
1 green bell pepper, thinly sliced

To make the dressing:
Combine the vinegar and sugar in a small saucepan. Heat, stirring, until the sugar dissolves. Add the oil, celery seeds, and salt and set aside to cool while you slice the vegetables.

To make the salad:
Combine the cabbage, onion, and bell pepper in a large bowl. Pour the dressing over and toss to coat.

This cole slaw was good right after I made it, but I think I liked it better after a day or two, since that mellowed the onions a bit.

I received this book from the publisher at no cost to me.

Red Cabbage Slaw

I'm pretty sure than if you were blindfolded, you wouldn't be able to tell the difference between standard green cabbage and its more colorful relative - red cabbage.

Or, really, it's purple. And while we're talking about colors, some people refer to green cabbage as white cabbage.

But I digress.

While green cabbage and red cabbage taste pretty much the same, they're often used in their own specific recipes - green cabbage ends up in cole slaw, sauerkraut, and stuffed cabbage, while red cabbage is often used for a braised sweet-sour recipe that shows up as a German side dish, right next to the spaetzle.

While I like cole slaw, sometimes I switch things up and use red cabbage, just because the color is so stunning. Chances are, there's nothing else on the table that color, while green and white are pretty common food colors.

The little secret ingredient in this slaw is the horseradish - it gives the slaw a little bit of a kick - but it's subtle. The slaw shouldn't be spicy - it should just be less-than-bland.

Commercial prepared horseradish varies in strength, so feel free to adjust as needed. Start small and add more, after you taste it.

Red Cabbage Slaw

1/2 medium head red cabbage
1/4 cup cider vinegar
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon sugar
1 teaspoon prepared horseradish
1/4 cup Greek yogurt
1/4 cup mayonnaise

Cut the cabbage as desired  some folks like thin shreds while other prefer a chopped slaw. Place in a large bowl.

Add the cider vinegar, salt, sugar, and horseradish. Stir to combine. Set aside at room temperature for an hour, stirring occasionally. The cabbage will lose liquid and soften just a little.

Drain the liquid from the slaw and add the yogurt and mayonnaise. Stir to combine. Taste and adjust seasoning as needed. If you prefer a creamier slaw, add more yogurt and/or mayonnaise.

You can serve immediately, or refrigerate until needed. The dressing will be white when first mixed, but it will turn pink/purple as it sits.

Meatless Bigos

When I was a kid, my mother made a cabbage dish that had no name. It was basically cabbage with tomatoes, and it was typically served with cooked potatoes mixed in.

Weird, huh?

Sometimes the dish had tiny shreds of pork, but often it was just the cabbage and potatoes. Because it was nameless, I called it "good cabbage." I could eat vats of it. Seriously. Big, giant bowls of cabbage.

I think I've mentioned before that I was a weird kid, right? If you needed more proof, there it is.

The history of that particular recipe was never revealed. I don't know if it's something my mother threw together out of desperation - I mean, it's pretty cheap and filling - or whether she got it from someone else.

But then I was introduced to a Polish dish called Bigos, or Hunter's Stew. It's a pork-and-cabbage dish with tomato, but the proportions are completely different that mom's pork and cabbage and tomato dish.

Bigos, depending on who is making it, can have more pork than cabbage. And there's not as much tomato. But it's the same three primary ingredients. The only thing I can think of is that mom started off with a bigos recipe, but cut back on the pork over time until it was almost gone. Or entirely gone.

Funny thing was that although I liked pork in other dishes, I really didn't care for the little shreds of pork in mom's ... whatever dish. So I eliminated it entirely when I started making it. Now, if it's hunter's stew, it's either the result of an unsuccessful hunt, or maybe the hunters were just armed with cameras.

And, since this version used olive oil (sometimes I use butter) it's actually vegan. What's weirder than a vegan hunter's stew, huh?

This is a rustic, homestyle, family dish. It doesn't require precise knife skills. You can hack the cabbage up with a machete if you want. I'm serious. It doesn't need to be even at all. It's great if it's bite-sized pieces, because this isn't something you'd want to cut up with a knife. But otherwise, it's all up to you.

This also isn't a recipe where mise en place is required, either. The onion can be demolished while the oil gently heats, and the cabbage can be added as you chop. This recipe really was born in poor farmhouses, and I see no reason to fancy it up.

You might notice that there aren't any herbs or spices here besides the simple salt and pepper. To be honest, I can't think of one that I would add to this. Maybe chives, but this already has onions for that flavor.

Meat-Free Bigos

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 large onion

1/2 half large head of cabbage (or 1 small)

1 15-ounce can tomato sauce

1 14.5 ounce can stewed tomatoes

1 14.5 ounce can petite diced tomatoes

1 tablespoon red wine vinegar

1/2 teaspoon salt (or to taste)

1/2 teaspoon ground pepper (or to taste)

Heat the olive oil gently in a large, heavy-bottomed pot or a Dutch oven.

Chop the onion into bite-size pieces. I usually cut in in half through the root end, then cut the halves into four pieces, then slice those. A large dice would be fine, if you prefer.

Put the onions into the pot and stir. Let them cook slowly while you start chopping the cabbage. You're looking for them to sweat rather than brown.

Chop the cabbage into fork-sized, bite-sized pieces. Add the cabbage to the pot a hand full at a time, stirring as you add the cabbage. When all the cabbage is in the pot, add the tomatoes, vinegar, salt, and pepper. Stir.

Continue cooking at simmer, stirring as needed, until the cabbage is cooked through and has taken on a red color from the tomatoes. You'll see the difference, You'll start off with white and pale green cabbage in a tomato sauce, and then you'll have red-colored cabbage that has absorbed the tomato flavor.

Taste for flavoring and add more salt, pepper, or vinegar, as needed.

Figure that it will take about an hour for the cabbage to cook through, maybe a little longer. When it's done, the liquid should be mostly gone, but the cabbage should be moist.

Serve warm. I like it served with boiled potatoes to mix in at the table.

The Sauerkraut Chronicles

When I left my mother's ... uh ... clutches (say something nice ...) um, sphere of influence at the tender age of 18, I already had some pretty good cooking chops. I could single-handedly orchestrate an entire Thanksgiving dinner without using any recipes. I could make spaghetti sauce and home made pasta. I could make salad dressing and jelly and cookies.

But some things were ... confusing.

The first time I cooked corn on the cob, I had no idea how long it should cook. Ten minutes? An hour? There it was, bobbing in the water, and I had no idea how long it should take.

And then there was sauerkraut.

My mother made sauerkraut all the time. And when I say "made," I mean she bought a big jar of kraut and later it appeared on the dinner table. I had no idea what transpired in between the purchase of the product and the fork-into-mouth experience.

Which is odd, because we - mom, dad, and I - lived in a tiny one-bedroom apartment. Three people, one bedroom. Yeah, that was fun. I still have creases in my spine from sleeping on the couch for too many years.

But anyway, when I was home, I was never too far from the kitchen. I learned to make mom's spaghetti sauce just from being there. But corn? Nope. Sauerkraut? Nope.

The first time I attempted to make sauerkraut, I opened the can and heated up the contents. I mean, that's what happened with pretty much every canned product that made its way through mom's kitchen. Open the canned corn, heat, and serve.

So I heated the sauerkraut straight from the can and ... oh, my. That's not what mom served.

I could have called her and asked for her recipe, but at that point our war relationship was at the point where I probably wouldn't have trusted her instructions, if she didn't feign forgetfulness. Those were the days when she'd tell me she forgot how she made something, even if she made it for dinner the night before.

So, I had to experiment. And I tried to remember what she did. I knew what the sauerkraut looked like. It was more of a brownish color rather than the stark white that came from a can. And I knew what it tasted like. I just had to recreate it.

I think I've nailed her results, but I can't guarantee this is how she got there. But that's okay, too.

Instead of hiding my recipe in the dark corners of my cobwebby mind and pretending that I've forgotten the details, I'm publishing it. Online. Where anyone can see it. Gee, that's weird, huh?

It takes a little taste-testing to make this recipe. You get to decide how salty, sweet, or tart you like your kraut. And, to be honest, I like it different ways for different uses. And, the sauerkraut you start with makes a difference. Different brands taste different.

I started with a home-fermented kraut - yes, I started with cabbage and fermented my own, then canned it - but it's perfectly fine to start with a jarred or canned version. For most uses, I prefer sauerkraut without caraway seeds, but that's a personal choice. Buy it with caraway, if you like, or add it to the finished kraut.

The sauerkraut I made is fairly mild, just a little tart, but also with some sweetness. You can eat this as a side dish - it's great next to a pork chop or some smoked Polish sausage. It's probably a little too mild for use as a topping on a sausage sandwich, though - you want something with a little more kick for that.

I know that sometimes mom's kraut included meat. Sometimes bacon or fatty bits trimmed from a pork roast or whatever piggy-fatty leftovers she might have had lying around. But more often than not, there was no meat. I think she might have used Crisco once in a while, since that was always around. I opted for butter.

If you're opposed to butter, you're avoiding dairy, you want to make this a vegan dish, or you just think butter is weird in this recipe, you can use a neutral vegetable oil or even a mild-flavored olive oil instead.

Or bacon fat, if you happen to have that on hand. You can also add chopped-up bits of bacon or pork to the kraut, but I was never fond of that texture in sauerkraut. To me, it's a vegetable dish, and I'm perfectly fine leaving it that way.

This made just about one quart of sauerkraut, which seems impossible since you're starting with a quart of jarred sauerkraut and then adding a whole head of cabbage. But that jarred kraut is swimming in a lot of liquid, and the fresh cabbage that's added cooks down a lot. By the time I was done, this fit into a quart container, snugly packed.

Sauerkraut, Reconstructed

4 tablespoons (1/2 stick) unsalted butter
1 small head cabbage, shredded/chopped to the same size as the sauerkraut
1 medium onion, quartered and sliced to match the sauerkraut shreds
1 quart (or close enough) sauerkraut, drained and rinsed
2 tablespoons finely chopped dried mushrooms*
Salt, as needed
Sugar, as needed (I think mom used brown sugar)
Cider vinegar, as needed
Lots of fresh ground black pepper

Melt the butter in a large skillet or heavy bottomed pan on medium heat. Add the cabbage and onion and cook, stirring often, until the vegetables wilt a bit. Add the sauerkraut and mushrooms and continue cooking, stirring as needed.

First, the color will change so the cabbage and kraut will be indistinguishable from each other. Then, after a while, the vegetables will begin to turn a little brown. This is what you're looking for. Not browned bit - so you need to keep watching and stirring. This takes quite a bit of time, but I think the results are worth it.

As you're cooking, the water will disappear from the pan. That's good, too. You don't want kraut swimming in water. But if it gets too dry and you start getting some crisping/browning action, you can add a bit more water. You're looking for moist, but not swimming in water.

As the color begins to change to a tan color, it's time to taste. Add salt, if needed. It seems crazy since sauerkraut is pretty salty, but draining and rinsing removes a lot of that salt, and there's also a whole head of cabbage in there, as well.

Add a bit of sugar. A teaspoon if you're timid, or a tablespoon if you know you'd like it a little more sweet. I think my mom used brown sugar, but I used a cane sugar that I use for pretty much everything. I put in about tablespoon. The sugar also helps the vegetables brown a little more, so it speeds up the cooking a bit.

Last, decide how tart you want this kraut to be. The kraut you started with was probably fairly tart, but since there's all that extra cabbage, it probably has mellowed quite a bit. And remember, this is supposed to be a version of sauerkraut, not a fried cabbage. Add as much vinegar as you like. You could also add a smidge of balsamic vinegar as well, to get the more rounded tones. But cider vinegar alone is just fine, too.

Keep cooking a little longer, until the sauerkraut is sort of a tan color - not as dark as a cardboard box. Maybe more like a paper bag brown. Not white or green, though. Give it one last taste and adjust the sugar/salt/tart to your liking.

And there you go. Mom's kraut, re-engineered from vague memories and remembered flavors.

*For the mushrooms, you can use what you like; I use a product that I buy from a local mushroom farm. Shitake might not be the best choice - if I don't have the local stuff, I use wild dry mushrooms I buy from an ethnic market, but try to choose something that's a European type of mushroom.

You can chop or grind the mushrooms while they're dry, or you can rehydrate them and then chop them into tiny bits (which you might want to do if you know they're sandy, dirty, or gritty). Or you can use fresh mushrooms, but you'll need more to get the same flavor. I'd estimate about 1/4 pound, chopped fine and added at the beginning of the cooking.

Slow Cooker Braised Cabbage

Maybe it has something to do with my heritage, but I absolutely love cooked cabbage. I love it cooked with tomatoes, but creamed cabbage is also pretty darned good, too.

This version is a little more austere, with mushrooms and cabbage as the main ingredients, and just a little flavoring.

I cooked this in my slow cooker, and it took quite some time before the cabbage was as tender as I liked. Your slow cooker might cook at a higher or lower temperature, so the cooking time could be much different.  And even though it's cooked in the slow cooker, you're going to need to do just a little bit of stirring to make sure it cooks evenly.

And yes, the recipe is correct. There's no water added.

Slow Cooker Braised Cabbage

2 tablespoons butter
1 head cabbage
1/2 pound mushrooms
2 teaspoons salt (more to taste)
Several generous grinds black pepper
1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar

Put the butter in your crock pot.

Remove the gnarly or damaged leaves from the cabbage. Quarter the cabbage and shred or chop it coarsely - not fine shreds - you want this to have some body. Add the cabbage to the crock pot. Clean and slice the mushrooms and add them to the cabbage.

Add the salt, pepper, and balsamic vinegar.

Cook the cabbage on low, stirring occasionally so it cooks evenly and it doesn't burn on the bottom. Cook until the cabbage is tender, but not mushy - it took about 4 hours in my slow cooker.

Taste for seasoning and add more salt, pepper, or vinegar, as desired.

If you prefer a creamed cabbage, you could mix in creme fraiche, cream cheese, or sour cream before serving.

Braised Cabbage with Mushrooms and Tomatoes

If you don't like cabbage, you might as well leave now. This is all about cabbage.

My mother made a version of this dish when I was a kid, and she called it Polish Cabbage. Which was a little odd. She made other Polish dishes, but she called them by their Polish names. But this one was Polish Cabbage. I suspect it was her version of Bigos, but maybe she changed the name because she knew it was pretty far from the original

Meanwhile. I've adapted it even more in this recipe, with the addition of mushrooms. It's not a far-fetched addition. A lot of Polish recipes use mushrooms.

My mother's recipe usually had a small amount of pork in it, but lately I've been making it meatless. I think it's just as good.

Braised Cabbage with Mushrooms and Tomatoes

2 tablespoons oil for cooking
1 medium onion, roughly chopped
8 roma tomatoes, peeled, cored and chopped
1 pound button mushrooms, cleaned and sliced
1 small head of cabbage
2 tablespoons red wine vinegar
2 tablespoons tomato paste
salt and pepper

Heat the oil in a large, heavy bottomed pot. Add the onions and cook until they begin to soften. Add the tomatoes and cook until the tomatoes begin to break up. Add the mushrooms, stir to combine, and cook for about 5 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Chop the cabbage roughly - thicker than for cole slaw. Add the cabbage to the pot, stir to combine. Add the wine vinegar, tomato paste, and salt and pepper.

Cook on medium-low, stirring often, adding water as needed so the bottom doesn't dry out. You don't want it to be soupy, you just need enough water so it will braise. Cook the cabbage until it softens and starts turning red from absorbing the tomato. This can take an hour or more. Taste and adjust seasoning, adding more tomato, salt, pepper, or vinegar as desired.