Today is our foody night, where we make a foody feast of goodness.
Part of this involves finding a way to use the NINE cabbages. And there are 6 more in the garden. All white cabbages and all impresive. Seriously, these things are freaking huge and perfect and unblighted and no fertiliser, pesticide, random radiation or whatever other crap they put on our food. Beloved is most proud of himself and right so.
Except – WHAT can you do with this much cabbage except make everything smell truly awful. I have cooked it with dinner as just a plain veg (well with lemon juice and once with nuts), I have made coleslaw, cabbage gratin, saurkraut and even something with apples that wasn’t very nice. What other options are there?! Do I have to freeze the whole lot and just resign myself that we have enough cabbage to last us until doomsday?
Also, does white cabbage pickle? I mean pickled red cabbage is commonplace (and I loves it. And he has grown none. Why is this?) but we don’t see pickled white cabbage – whyfor?
In other news Beloved has expressed criticism of my stuffed mushrooms! (Well, he didn’t. He asked if we should add a herb to it. But in homage to my mother I have decided to take that suggestion to be a fierce indictment of my skills, my honour, my family and indeed all aspects of my life to date. So there ) so I am looking at adjusting their scrumminess. Currently they are:
Huge portabellow mushroom, inside scooped out and finely chopped with a stronger mushroom (shiitake or oyster). Mix with grated cheese (red leicester for preference but wensleydale, cheddar and emmenthal work well. So can brie but it’s a bit overpowering.) finely chopped crispy bacon (Note Renee and other Canadians suffering from dellusion – this is real bacon, not ham) finely sliced onion and a glug of soy OR worcestershire sauce.
Now, miscellenaious herb to add. Beloved has declared garlic boring (because I add it to everything. And rightly so). I am leaning towards cumin or paprika – but tbh, I raher think it should be left alone. Maybe something mild like parseley.
(It is also ridiculously hot, every window in the house is open and the cat has taken to sleeping in Beloved’s carrot patch – the feathery tops make a good bed and the ones she doesn’t squish shade her. Beloved is not amused. Cat does not care if he is not amused. A small war has begun)