A Homemade Life and Cream-Braised Green Cabbage

I love Molly Wizenberg and envy her in equal measure. I envy her petite mother trotting around Paris in high heels. I envy Molly's years spent in a tiny apartment in France as well as her naturally red hair and funny, endearing writing style. "A Homemade Life" is my favorite book right now, and every recipe I've made from it makes me like Molly even more.

She saved me with her Cream-Braised Green Cabbage. Rachey read about cabbage soup (maybe in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory?) and has been hounding me to make it for weeks. I keep saying, "Cabbage soup is what you eat when you have no money for good food," but Rachey persists with her unreasonable belief that I will make a cabbage soup that she likes.

Suddenly, there's the answer right in front of me. Molly says,

"Cabbages may be homely, hard-headed things, but with a little braising, they're bewitching. Cut into wedges and cooked slowly in a Jacuzzi bath of cream, they wind up completely relaxed, their bitter pungency washed away and replaced with a rich, nutty sweetness."

Okay, worth a shot. I find a lovely delicate petit chou, cut it into wedges, and braise it in cream with salt and a little fresh lemon juice. Oh my God. OH MY GOD. Rachey takes a bite, serves herself a bowlful and curls up with it in her lap, watching Grey's Anatomy, completely happy. Danny comes downstairs, and sniffs at the pot. "What is this?" "Cabbage," I reply, sure that he'll snort in disgust and walk away. "Can I have some?" he asks. Sure. He polishes off the bowl and says, "That's so good. Can you make more? Can you make more now?"

So tomorrow I'm going to buy another green cabbage, braise it in cream, and serve the kids cabbage as an after-school snack. Thank you Molly.

copyright 2009 Ann Krueger Spivack