Winter Vegetable, Hungarian Accent

Green cabbages at Iovine Brothers' Produce

It's soup weather, an ideal vehicle for that sturdiest of winter vegetables: cabbage. It's cheap, easy to prep, nutritious and satisfying.

First, let's deal with price. At the Reading Terminal Market today OK Lee had a special on green cabbage, 39 cents a pound -- half the price Iovine Brothers was charging, although even at 79 cents cabbage will hardly bust a budget. (Red and savoy cabbages are a tad more expensive: this week they were 99 cents at Iovine.)

I found a small cabbage weighing in at a pound and a half (most heads of green cabbage are between two and three pounds) and decided an Eastern European style soup was the way to go. I found lots of recipes on the web, and they were fairly similar, but the one I settled upon -- with two significant tweaks -- is attributed to Mel Markon's, a defunct Jewish deli in Chicago with a credit to the recipe's original appearance in the December 1980 issue of Gourmet magazine.

In addition to scaling the recipe down from a three pound head of cabbage, I took advantage of some homemade Hungarian sausages made by a neighbor's father in Budapest and smuggled back here about four or five years ago. Yes, the sausage is that old, but I've been using it as a flavoring agent in soups and stews and have lived to tell the tale. It replaces the sweet paprika called for in the sausage-less original recipe (find it here), but you could use smoked paprika instead.

My second tweak beyond the sausage was to add some barrel sauerkraut lurking in the back of my fridge. I used about a cup, rinsed, because that's all I had. If I had a quart, I would have used it all.

The most expensive part of the recipe is the meat, since it calls for one and a half pounds of short ribs; I used a little over a pound since I was dealing with a lesser quantity of cabbage.

Finished soup

Start by putting 12 cups of water in your stock or soup pot, then adding the beef before turning the heat to medium high. Once the water starts bubbling, cut back the heat to maintain a steady but minimal simmer. Do not add salt or any other seasoning at this point. When the meat is tender (which might take about an hour) remove it to a platter and let it cool. Make sure to skim the surface of the stock as it cooks to remove scum, and after removing the meat also skim off any fat globules you can find on the surface. (If you wind up boiling rather than simmering the broth, the fat will be emulsified into it, and that's yucky.)

While the meat simmered I attacked the cabbage. After discarding the outer leaves and coring the cabbage I cut it into roughly one-inch pieces. A medium onion got the same treatment. Although the recipe doesn't call for it I added half of an exceedingly large carrot (about one medium carrot) cut into slightly smaller than spoon-sized chunks.

Next, remove the meat from the bone and cut away any identifiable unrendered fat and gristle, then cut the meat into small bits, half-inch at the most.

Take the meat and veggies and add them to the pot, along with three-quarters of a cup of ketchup, a cup of chopped, drained canned tomatoes, a quarter cup of sugar, and a quarter cup of lemon juice (cider or white vinegar could be used in a pinch). If you are fortunate enough to have Hungarian sausage (a Spanish chorizo or Portuguese chouriço would also work) chop up about two ounces worth and add it to the pot. With sausage there's no need for additional seasonings. If you have no suitable sausage go with four or five teaspoons of paprika, plus salt to taste.

The soup should gently simmer (only the barest of bubbles should break on the surface) for 30 to 60 minutes. But don't be tempted to cook longer: overcooking is what leads to cabbage emitting a sulfurous and off-putting odor.

Like many soups and braises it improves with an overnight stay in the refrigerator, which will also allow you to remove congealed fat that might accumulate on top. I froze about half of it and have been enjoyably consuming the remainder. With a slice of good rye bread or pumpernickel and sweet butter you've got yourself a great meal.

Catching Up: Reading Terminal Market

More catch-up by way of photos at Reading Terminal Market over the past month.

Iovine's had some of the nicest looking savoy cabbage I've seen in a while in early August.

Acorn squashes, at Iovine's in late August, herald autumn's arrival

Fair Food has featured a nice variety of onions. Cippolinis could also be found at Headhouse.

Peppers in profusion have been available both at the RTM and farmers' markets.
These were on display at Fair Food.

Nothing says summer like a tomato. And no one displays them better than Ben Kauffman.

Ben also knows how to display corn.

A Brief Vacation

Nothing demarcates the seasons quite as much travelling afar and returning home.

After a sojourn to the rocky coast of Down East Maine for much of the first half of October, I returned to Philadelphia this past week. At both the Reading Terminal Market Friday and the Headhouse Square farmers' market today I was innundated by the foods (and colors, like those of Margerum's preserves at Headhouse) or fall produce. Herewith, some photos and thoughts.

Brassicas, Brassicas, Brassicas

Autumn is prime time for cruciferious vegetables, which get their name from a resemblance, somewhere in their visible anatomical structure, to a cross. Most of the cruciferous veggies we see in the markets are brassicas (the few that aren't brassicas include wasabi, horseradish, radishes, arugula and the various cresses).

Broccoli and cauliflower, whatever the color, as well as the pointy romanesco, are all variations of brassica oleracea. These specimens were found at Benuel Kauffman's Lancaster County Produce at the Reading Terminal Market Friday.

Kale and collards (though not the chard in the foreground) are also cruciferous veggies. These could be purchased today at the North Star stall at the Headhouse market.

Cabbages galore at Iovine Brother's Produce Friday at the RTM. The plain green cabbage, at left, was selling for 50 cents a pound while the red and savoy were priced at 69 cents. All were from local farms in South Jersey.

Peppers Are Better In October

I think of peppers as a summer vegetable, even if they are, like tomatoes, technically fruits. Yet, the peppers I've tasted both in Maine and since returning are sweeter and more flavorful than those I sampled in August and September. Maybe it's those extra days in the sun.  The green frying peppers (left) and red varities pictured above at Iovine's all hail from South Jersey farms.

These peppers (as well as eggplants and tomatoes) filled the Three Springs Fruit Farm stall at Headhouse, along with lots of apples. Farmer Ben Wenk thinks the cooler weather of fall may cut down on the rate of water absorption by produce, making them sweeter ans more intense. He thinks its definitely true of the peaches, and probably for the eggplant and peppers as well.

That may have been the reason why the plum tomatoes I purchased at the Bar Harbor farmers' market two weeks were the best I've had all year: the naturally cooler climate of Maine coupled with long days of sun. Those tomatoes made the best pasta sauce I've prepared all season long.

Roots: Beets and Carrots

Weaver's Way, with some floral help, provided a colorful display of carrots and beets today at Headhouse. The carrots I bought at Bar Harbor also seemed particularly sweet and flavorful, again, perhaps due to the cooler climate and longer days of sunlight in more northerly climes.

Another Fall Veggie Standout

Blooming Glen Farm displayed these tender stalks of flavorful today, and I was quick up a bunch, both for the leaves and the ribs. I can't think of making tuna salad without copious amount of finely diced celery rib with added leaves. But tonight I may braise some stalks to accompany grilled chicken. Celery is a vegetable we don't usually think of cooking with, other than in soups or stews, but it's superb as a standalone side dish.

Quince: The Original Marmalade

The things you learn on Wikipedia! Quince (here displayed in the case at Beechwood Orchard's stall at Headhouse) is called Marmelo in Portoguese, hence, the jam made from it was called marmalade. Quince is a great addition to apple pies, providing even more pectin as well as a slightly different type of tartness. Quince marmalade is a traditional accompaniment to sharp cheeses.