5/ COLE SLAW

For years, I held out hope for cabbage. There had to be something good to do with it, since so many food traditions have depended on it as a staple. I had a college roommate with Eastern European roots who was always looking for “the perfect cole slaw.” I wanted to be interested but just didn’t like it that much.

Old-timers in the Arkansas Ozarks grew and ate a lot of cabbage, mostly steamed or gently boiled in narrow wedges. I ate it a lot there, but again without much delight.

The summer Anna was born, 1977, we grew dozens of green cabbages. They were beautiful, but what to do with them? I made sauerkraut in a crock, which was a lot of fun to make and to watch ferment. The taste, however, was rather ordinary. (It probably takes a few generations to get sauerkraut right.) The fee for Anna’s birth in one of two labor rooms in a nursing home in Jasper, AR, was $100. And we also gave the two doctors (a married couple) a bushel of cabbages. So, I guess Anna can claim to be one of the proverbial children found under a cabbage.

Doug’s Fish Fry in Cortland, NY, makes delicious cole slaw—I used to eat there sometimes when I still worked in Cortland. But they rely on ingredients that I don’t use on a regular basis: cream, for instance. It’s no challenge to make something taste good with cream—anyone can do it. My goal is to work out recipes that use the healthiest, freshest ingredients and still taste flat-out delicious.

Oddly, the germ of this cole slaw recipe was born in Chile, after Lucy’s wedding. Her friend Simnia threw together a simple cole slaw for lunch one day. I can’t now remember what she used for the dressing, except that the base was olive oil. The key, for me, was that she showed me how to salt the thin slivers of cabbage and let them rest a bit to soften before adding the dressing. I liked this cole slaw very much.

Back at home, I wanted to try Simnia’s approach and happened upon a simple mustard vinaigrette that sounded like a good possibility for the dressing. (I don’t remember where I read it—my recipe gathering/stealing skills seem to come together in fragments.) I use Maille Dijon Originale mustard, which is terrific, I’m now addicted to it. Madhur Jaffrey recommends another, Moutarde de Meaux, but I haven’t found it anywhere yet. Probably any good quality Dijon mustard will work fine.

This week a New York Times article lists cabbage as one of “The 11 Best Foods You're Not Eating": http://well.blogs.nytimes.com/2008/06/30/the-11-best-foods-you-arent-eating/?em&ex=1215489600&en=3e09bb96503e4f20&ei=5087%0A. Cabbage is listed in the number 2 spot. So, now, if you like this cole slaw, you can easily eat lots of cabbage. (Beets are listed as number 1 on the list; I’ll write about beets another day.)

Here’s the recipe:

COLE SLAW

½ a small, perfect cabbage, green or red, cut into 2 quarters, cored, and very finely sliced
a small section of sweet onion, very finely sliced
3 T. good olive oil
1 t. (or more to taste) good Dijon mustard
salt
freshly ground pepper

Pile the sliced cabbage from one of the quarters and a bit of the sliced onion into a serving bowl. Sprinkle salt over the top. Add the remaining cabbage and onion slices, and salt this layer too. Use about as much salt altogether as you would otherwise add to a salad this size, or a little more than usual, to taste. Then set the cabbage aside for about ½ an hour, until it’s beginning to wilt.

For the dressing, whisk together the oil and mustard (a fork works just as well), using a slow, stirring movement until the dressing emulsifies into a beautiful golden-yellow thickness the texture of whipped cream. Watching the dressing emulsify is very exciting! Note: it sometimes refuses to thicken if you whisk too vigorously. Sometimes, in fact, it just won’t emulsify, no matter what you do. Who knows why? But not a problem; it still tastes fine on those days, too.

When the cabbage has visibly softened, stir the dressing into it and all through.

This is the simplest, best cole slaw I’ve tasted so far; and I’m picky about cabbage. The dressing is also great on steamed green beans and broccoli.

—Jane