Comfy Cabbage Rolls (Unrolled)

I'm a big fan of cabbage rolls.  I'm not a big fan of making cabbage rolls.  Okay, honestly?  I've never actually made cabbage rolls... (no, that wasn't me, that was Saša who made the sarma); just thinking about the process of individually stuffing cabbage leaves completely puts me off.  I prefer to practice a literal approach to comfort food; I seek comfort while the food cooks itself.

But I'm a big fan of cabbage rolls.  I needed to find a way to work this out.  And, without using any boyfriend bribery, I eventually did. Woot!

I'm going to tell you a secret.  You can get all of the flavour (and infinitely more comfort) of traditional cabbage rolls by using the same ingredients sans stuffing and rolling.  Yes, really.  Don't tell your amazing cabbage roll making friends and/or relatives because they'll never make the real deal for you again if they ever find this out.

This dish is embarrassingly simple to prepare (as in you need the cooking skills of a thumbtack) and requires very few ingredients (most of which you probably have on hand).  If you are longing for a lazy afternoon but still want to impress those around your dinner table (with flavour - not with presentation... because honestly it looks like a pile of slop) then grab your aprons and let's go...

You will need an average size head of green cabbage (or 2 small ones... or part of a massive one...), a couple of onions, about a pound of ground meat (I use mixed pork and beef), raw white rice, 2 x 500 g cartons of tomato sauce (that's roughly 3.5 cups for the imperialists - based not on mathematical conversions, but rather by pouring water in to my empty cartons to measure it just for you), honey, lemon juice, soy sauce, salt, pepper and garlic powder.  You will also need a large pot (my 5.5 litre is just large enough to make this) with a lid.

chopped onions

Once you have gathered your ingredients, heat a small amount of fat (butter, lard, oil... whatever makes you comfy) in your large pot over medium-low heat.  Chop up your onions and add them to the pot.  You don't want to fry or brown the onions, you just want to heat them until they are soft and infuse the fat with their flavour - adjust your burner temperature accordingly.  

softening the onions

While your onions are softening, cut your cabbage into large chunky pieces.  Loosely separate the cabbage leaves to break apart any too chunky chunks and give them a nice rinse under your kitchen tap to get rid of any residual yuck.

  

chunky cabbage

Add the cabbage to the pot, a few handfuls at a time, stirring to mix with the onions.  Don't freak out if you can't fit all the cabbage in to the pot right away as it will shrink while it heats and will create room for more.

green cabbage and onions

Once you have added the cabbage to the pot (or in between adding handfuls), combine 4 soup sized spoonfuls of honey with 60 ml (1/4 cup) of lemon juice.  I recommend squeezing two medium sized lemons because fresh is always best - but use what you've got.

  

juicing lemons

Mix the honey/lemon with 500 ml (2 cups) water (I did mine right in the honey jar because I only had about 4 spoonfuls of honey left in there).  Add the tomato sauce (1 kg or 750 ml-ish or 3.5 cups-ish...) and season with salt, pepper and garlic powder.  Your seasoning will depend entirely on your taste (and whether you used salted or seasoned tomato sauce) BUT... don't get too heavy with the shakers as you'll be adding some seasonings to your meat as well... and you can always add more later if needed.  You have been warned.

salt, pepper, tomato sauce, garlic powder and honey (with lemon juice and water)

Pour the sauce over the cabbage in the pot, increase the burner temperature and bring to a boil, stirring occasionally.  When the sauce begins to boil, cover the pot with a lid and simmer while you make the meatballs.  Don't worry if your sauce isn't covering all the cabbage - it will be eventually.  As your cabbage simmers away in the sauce, it's time to make the meatballs. 

tomato sauce poured over cabbage and onions

seasonings, ground meat, uncooked white rice

Combine your ground meat (excuse the brown bits in the photo - I left it to defrost in the microwave a few seconds too long) with 50g (1/4 cup) of UNCOOKED white rice, a splash of soy sauce (or worcestershire if you'd rather...), garlic powder, pepper and salt.  As with the tomato sauce, the seasoning level is left up to you.  Don't over mix or squeeze the meat, just gently toss the ingredients together until everything is combined.  Speaking of meatballs, I should probably mention that,unless you don't mind having a layer of fat floating on top of the pot as you get ready to serve your meal, using lean ground meat will be your best choice.

ground mixed meat with uncooked rice, soy sauce and seasonings

By the time you finish mixing your meat and carry it over to the stove, you will notice that your simmering cabbage is now nicely covered with sauce (see?  I told you it would happen!).  

simmering cabbage (now nicely covered with sauce)

Form the meat mixture in to small meatballs and drop them in to the pot on top of the cabbage.  When all the meatballs have been added to the pot, press them gently with the back of a spoon to cover them with sauce.  Bring the sauce back up to a gentle boil (if it isn't already), cover, reduce the heat and simmer for 2 hours. Two whole hours!!  That's ample time to get comfy.  You may now kick back and relax while your home fills with the cozy scent of comfortable.

meatballs and cabbage simmering in tomato sauce

As your meal makes away on the stovetop, do peek under the lid every so often to ensure that you are still at a simmer and to give it a gentle stir.  My 'stirring' involves sliding a large wooden spoon down the side of the pot and stirring along the bottom so that I don't disturb the meatballs.  Don't panic if (and when) your meatballs crumble... in the end you will have some random meaty bits throughout the sauce, but you will still have some nice big chunky lumps.  After two hours of simmer (or longer - that's okay too), call everyone to the table and enjoy your comfy cabbage not-rolls.  Serve with mashed potatoes and sour cream.

random meaty bits and big chunky lumps

As promised, this dish is the epitome of comfort food and is sure to please the masses.  I assume it will freeze well (we just eat it for three days straight... and it gets better and better each day).  I did already tell you that this meal isn't pretty... but that's comfort food.  You probably don't look your finest when you're donning decade old sweatshirts, flannel pajama bottoms and mismatched wool socks... but the way you feel when you're wearing them best explains my point.

comfy cabbage rolls (unrolled), mashed potatoes and sour cream

Seriously Curious:  What's your all-time, absolute favourite comfort food and what makes it so deliciously comforting?  Shoot me a short comment below or answer my question @ The Perfect Avocado on Facebook.  I really want to know!

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Braised Blackberry Pork

On our last trip to the "big" market, we bought a large jar of blackberries and, while I typically find the preserving liquid too sweet or the fruit too mushy in factory processed canned fruit, I was extremely impressed with both the quality and the flavour. These whole, firm berries, preserved in their own juice without added sweeteners were a surprise find indeed.

After eating most of the berries with yogurt, the jar still remained half full of juice. Sloshing it down the sink seemed such a waste so I challenged myself to find something to do with it. After spending some time searching recipes online, I became inspired by a mishmash of possibilities and created a pretty incredible dish. So incredible, in fact, that I made it two days in a row.

Braised Pork Rolls with Blackberry Gravy

To begin, brew a half cup of strong black tea.  Unlike the wine in last month's Drunken Applesauce, this tea is all for the recipe so, if you would like a cup to drink, be sure to brew more.  Once your tea is steeped, remove the tea bag or tea leaves and add one half of a vegetable or chicken bouillon cube.  Add one cup of blackberry juice and two tablespoons of balsamic vinegar.  Stir and set this aside.

Next, finely dice one small onion (reserving half of it for later), a bit of celery and some fresh parsley; sauté in a small amount of butter until the onions are soft.  Remove from heat and stir in some salt, pepper and poultry seasoning (I use Vegeta but I know this is not possible for everyone so the former will suffice).  Toss in a good handful of torn up day old bread and stir to mix well.  If the mixture seems a bit dry you can add a touch of water (or some of the juice as prepared above) but avoid making it too wet as it will end up very soggy after cooking.  Making this two days in a row, mine was too moist on day one; I opted for more butter and no liquid on day two and it was perfect.

torn bread, diced onions, celery, parsley

Now take your boneless pork chops and pound them to make them fairly flat and thin.  I just used two random pork chops and deboned them before hammering; they didn't look so pretty and were irregular in shape, but it didn't matter in the end.  Divide your bread mixture to cover both flattened chops, then roll them up, tucking in the edges to make sure the stuffing stays inside.  If your chops are very fatty around the edges they will curl some while they cook which might make them come a bit undone; you can tie them up with strings, but I don't like to mess with them afterward so I just don't bother.  Once your little rolls are tightly packed and well formed, dredge them in flour and set aside.

flattened pork chops with stuffing

dredging stuffed pork rolls

In the same saucepan that you used to make the stuffing mix, sauté the reserved half of the onion plus a teaspoon of thyme (I used dried - if you have fresh, adjust accordingly) in a small amount of fat (I used pork lard) - just enough to keep the onions and thyme from burning.  Add your pork rolls and lightly brown on all sides; leave them seam side down and then add 1/3 of the the tea/juice mixture you have prepared.  Stir around the pork to mix the juice with the onions, bring to a gentle boil, cover, reduce the heat to low and simmer for an hour.

browning pork rolls with onions and thyme

stuffed pork ready to simmer

Once you put the lid on the pan, you have time to clean up your mess, peel potatoes and put them on to boil, fix your salad or prepare your vegetables.  Every 15 minutes(ish) stir the sauce, lifting the pork to scrape any stuck bits off the bottom of the pan.  Add a tiny bit more of your reserved juice to the pan, drizzling over the pork and bringing the sauce back up to a boil each time before replacing the lid.

After an hour, remove the pork from the pan, place on a plate and cover with the lid to keep warm.  Mix a tablespoon or two of flour (I just used the rest from the dredging) with an equal amount of the reserved juice and mix well.  Slowly add your floury juice to the sauce in the pan, whisking constantly, to make the gravy.  Add the remaining tea/juice and continue to stir, allowing it to boil for about five minutes to reduce and thicken (and cook away any raw pork 'ick' if you used the dredging flour like I did).  Remove from heat, stir in a few whole berries, return the pork to the pan and serve  (alternatively you could arrange on plates or place in a proper serving dish - we aren't always so civilized).

braised pork rolls w/blackberry gravy | horseradish mashed potatoes

This very simple stove top meal will be on your table in just over an hour and the simmering time, which allows for full kitchen cleanup plus meal accompaniment preparation, is actually a time saving bonus.  An easy way to make your everyday pork chop extraordinary, giving you plenty of time to relax and enjoy these individual tender braised pork rolls packed with fresh stuffing smothered in rich burgundy blackberry gravy.

stuffed rolled pork w/ blackberry gravy | horseradish mashed potatoes

Toast

As much as technology allows me to stay connected with family and feel close to home, there are certain moments when I am reminded of the distance between. 

My best friend got married last week and, after sharing more than twenty five years worth of monumental moments, I was suddenly stuck on the other side of the world.  Refusing to let thousands of kilometers keep me from celebrating such an important occasion, yet believing that there would likely be no sudden advances in teleportation technology (or, if there were, I would hardly be one to afford such a luxury), I took matters into my own hands and began to entertain alternative methods which would allow me to participate without being physically present.

My dear friend, the bride, is an incredibly skilled chef, a lover of all things food and a faithful follower of my blog, so an edible offering to honour their union seemed like a suitable salute.  I ran through a quick collection of ideas in my head, crossing each of them off before they could even be counted.  A wedding cake could never be trusted to my oven.  Rice would be nice, though a little bland on its own.  Perhaps a bubbly cocktail?  No, she's food, not drink.  Should I just make toast? After Googling my way around for some time, hoping for inspiration but finding everything but, I locked my laptop and took a break on the terrace, faithful that a flash notion would come.  As the church bells chimed, clarity came; I would prepare a taste of Croatia.

The dish was finally settled upon with the help of my lovely friend, Katica.  "I am desperately seeking typical Croatian wedding fare?" I queried via email (also relaying my purpose to avoid the obvious confusion it might have caused).   Soon she arrived at my door, recipe clippings in hand, to discuss the procedure and the prominence, insisting that "there is no family with self-respect in whole Croatia, from border to border, who would have traditional wedding table without sarma."

sour cabbage, minced meat, herbs, spices, onions

Saša would prepare the meal while I followed along with the camera, and so armed with minced meats, onions and a full sour cabbage, we assumed our kitchen positions.  Sun rays danced through the window and together we noticed how the tall stack of cabbage leaves was magically transformed into a delicate tower of bridalesque petals and, although Dalmatian sarma (arambašići) does not include rice, we decided to throw some in anyway (it was, after all, a wedding).  After mixing and rolling (and a quick call to Aunt Vera to confirm that everything was just right) we tucked the last piece into the pot and simmered our marriage feast.

sarma assembly

pot full of sarma

placing pork rinds

adding tomato roux

Later that evening we dined on the terrace sending well wishes across the water and, after several savoury scoops of the smokey-sour sarma and mouthfuls of mashed potatoes, sat as stuffed as the cabbage we'd eaten.  And then feeling blissfully full, not only from food, but of happiness, we raised our glasses to Hannah and Pete, thankful we could share in their day...

 "To Hannah and Pete, who both bring their own individually unique ingredients, and a perfect blend of spice, to create the ultimate recipe.  May together your flavour forever continue to develop; becoming more delicious with each passing day."

sarma dish

sarma

...with much love.