In books and tales of times of war, people like to talk about how they had nothing to eat but cabbage. In addition to feeling sorry for those who do not have as much to eat as others, I am now a bit puzzled, too. And that is because of curly kale. Which could be a really cool name for a gangster, I think.
On Friday, the geek and I made curly kale with sausage. We used one head of cabbage and I wanted to deep-freeze the leftovers for later this week. Luckily we weren't so hungry on Friday, as curly kale wasn't ready to feed the masses. In fact: one head of cabbage barely fed the two of us, so now think about a family of 7 who rely on cabbage to get them over the day. I can't even begin to imagine the amount of cabbage needed to get a family of 7 over the winter. Or the size of their barn, for that matter.
a head of curly kane
salt, pepper, nutmeg
as many smokes sausages as you think fit
First, build a pyramid of curly kane leaves.
Remove the ribs, or however the strong stems are called. Wash the leaves in cold water and put them into boiling water for about 1-2 minutes.
Cut them very roughly into smaller parts.
Chop the onions and fry them in the butter before adding the cabbage. Then add about 400 ml water and let it cook for about 45 minutes. Then add the sausages.
Cook for another 15 minutes. If you compare the last two pictures, think of that: same amount of cabbage, same pot. It shrinks a lot, hence the puzzled look on Ms. Basmati's face. The white stuff is neither mold nor snot, but oatmeal. The recipe demanded that I added 20 g, but I don't really know why I had to. It may soak up some of the moisture, who knows. Does not interfere with the taste though.
Season with nutmeg, salt and pepper and serve with potatoes. I also sprinkled some feta cheese on top, which was just fine. The geek demanded parmesan, but was too lazy to get up at get it himself. Not my fault.
Curly kane, thank you for riding into my town on your horse. Next time though: bring some friends!