Italian pot roast with crispy forgotten cabbage

Do you ever pretend a mistake was on purpose?

Take my recent attempt at green cabbage. Originally, I envisioned it as an echo to my red cabbage efforts  (here and here), which both turned out quite successfully: soft, slightly sweet, and mellow from long cooking over low heat.

Repeating this method should not have been a problem, since the rest of the dinner, Marcella Hazan's Pot Roast of Beef Braised in Red Wine, required little supervision. But somehow, I got distracted watching back-to-back episodes of "Mythbusters," left the heat too high, and forgot to check on the cabbage for quite some time. When I did eventually remember it, it was more brown than green and had stuck to the pan.

Mon petit chou! I thought. I've neglected you.

But since it was too late to start anything new, I scraped it out and served it alongside the pot roast.

"Isn't it nice how crispy the cabbage is?" I said to the husband, as if it had been my intention all along. "It adds such a good texture to the whole dinner."

Honestly, I'm happy it turned out that way. Slow-cooked meat gets that pull-apart consistency, which is lovely, but it can benefit from some contrast. So I decided to call my cabbage crispy instead of burnt, and forgotten instead of neglected. I think it adds an air of mystery to it.

As nicely as the cabbage turned out, I realize the pot roast is the more desirable part of this dinner, and that is probably the recipe you'd like to see. But while it's simple to make, it's long to type out. And, I highly recommend you add Marcella's Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking to your collection. This book is not only full of excellent recipes, but countless techniques that I have now integrated into all of my cooking. But if you really want the recipe, email me and I'll scan it and send it to you.

Crispy Forgotten Cabbage

1 head of cabbage, red or green, thinly sliced
3 T. olive oil
2 garlic cloves, minced
salt and pepper

Heat olive oil over medium heat in a wide skillet. Add garlic, and saute for 1-2 minutes. Add cabbage, liberal sprinklings of salt and pepper, and toss. Turn up the heat to medium-high and cook for 30-45 minutes, depending on how you prefer it, stirring occasionally. But not too often: you want it to get, you know, crispy. Check seasoning before serving. In my opinion, cabbage needs a fair amount of salt.

That concludes my cabbage recipes for the time being. Thanks for hanging in there, I know they're not the most glamorous little guys. But even the drabbest winter vegetables deserve their moment in the spotlight.

Kentucky buckeyes

The other day, a small package arrived in the mail, with a return address from Kentucky.

Since it was addressed to the husband, I placed it carefully on the bench in the front hall and tried to ignore it while I went about my business. But first, I shook it a little. Something rumbled around inside. The other hungry dog and I sniffed the box and looked at each other.

Bourbon balls? we wondered. A tiny jam cake?

When the husband arrived home a little while later, we followed him around until he opened the package, which turned out to be from his mother. He pulled out two ziploc bags.

"Buckeyes!" we exclaimed happily.

For those of you who may not know, a buckeye is basically a homemade Reese's peanut butter cup, rolled to look like the nut from this kind of buckeye. I don't need to tell you the joys of peanut butter and chocolate rolled into a bite-sized ball. And while we are not big on candy in this household, if we're going to delve into some kind of cheapo chocolate, the Reese's peanut butter cup reigns supreme. The husband claims they are elevated to the sublime when consumed with a Guinness, something I can neither confirm or deny.

In any case, back to our little buckeyes, made by the mother-in-law in rural Kentucky, packed snugly into a box, and shipped across the country to two hungry Californians. We unwrapped them and placed some on a plate.

Cute, aren't they?

I'm sure you couldn't possibly want to know what comprises a buckeye; it's really a bit troubling, especially during these post-holiday months when we're supposed to be running on treadmills and eating lightly-dressed salads. But just in case you're dying to know, I thought I'd post the recipe.

Kentucky Buckeyes

3/4 c. softened butter
1 c. smooth peanut butter
1 box (3 1/2 c.) powdered sugar

Mix all ingredients with your hands and form into small balls. Place on cookie sheets covered in wax paper. Let cool in the refrigerator for half an hour.

Meanwhile, melt 8 oz. semisweet chocolate with 1/4 sheet of Gulf Wax in a double boiler.

Dip candy into chocolate mix, leaving a spot in the middle so it looks like a buckeye.

These are best stored in the refrigerator.

Now, some of you might be wondering what the hell Gulf Wax is. So was I, when I read the hand-written recipe the mother-in-law sent to me on an index card. Despite her perfect handwriting, I was sure it was a mistake.

The husband patiently explained to me that Gulf Wax is a paraffin wax often used in candy making and is perfectly edible.

You learn something every day! And all the better if it comes in a peanut butter and chocolate package.

Pan-fried pork chops, inspired by friends

San Francisco has no shortage of good places to shop for groceries, and my newest discovery is Falletti Foods. I'd never really noticed this charming place until I began eating at Nopalito, which, as you know, I am completely obsessed with. Nopalito is next door to Falletti's. Often, after a delicious dinner of carnitas, sturgeon tacos, and enchiladas en mole (followed by homemade popsicles in Cinnamon Chocolate and Cafe con Leche), the husband and I would emerge in happy little food comas and notice the bustling market.

"We should check that out," one of us would say.

"Yes," the other would reply, "but not now. I can't look at any more food. Take me home so I can put on my pajamas."

And so went the cycle. Poor Falletti's.

But one day the stars aligned and I ended up there on a day when I had not just shortened my life with the best Mexican food on the planet and was therefore able to walk around and shop like a normal, non-stuffed person. And I discovered that Falletti's is really something special.

In addition to the usual niceties which are de rigeur here, including cheeses from Cowgirl Creamery and a rockin' produce section, they also have an amazing meat counter, including sausages made on site. And did I mention they sell Humphry Slocombe ice cream? If you can swallow the price ($8 for a pint!), you might have your whole ice cream world as you know it turned upside down.

What I'm leading up to here is that this place is awesome. I mean, you do the math:

Storemade sausage +  Vietnamese coffee ice cream + FREE PARKING = happy Hungry Dog.

So, I stopped by on Tuesday and picked up some pork chops. I'd had pork chops on the brain ever since I saw Mark's post over at Egg to the Apples for Coca Cola pork chops. I'd also recently been inspired by Croque-Camille, who had mentioned the idea of making red cabbage with apples.

So there you are: pan-fried pork chops with red cabbage and apples.

There are a few other ingredients in there--including leeks (the little greenish squares in the photos), and thyme, which I sprinkled over the chops before tossing them in the pan. But it was a pretty simple dinner.

Now, before you say, "Hungry Dog, cool it with the cabbage already!" let me break the bad news, which is that this is not the last cabbage post you're gonna see in the next few days. Look, when you get a CSA box delivered, you eat what they bring. Recently, they've been bringing a lot of cabbage. Apparently this is what it means to eat seasonally: in the spring you get beautiful crimson strawberries; in the winter you get humongous cabbages that each seem to weigh about 10 lbs and will not spoil no matter how long you ignore them. In fact, they just seem to get bigger and angrier. Sooner or later, you must reward them for their perserverance and do something with them.

Luckily I don't mind cabbage too much. But coming up with new ideas for it has been challenging. So thanks to my friends (even if they are virtual!) for the inspiration.