Just-Cooked Cabbage with Anchovy and Lemon by Alison Roman

Every Monday morning, I lead a quick check-in meeting with my team at work. We all stand up in the conference room and say something about our weekend. Then we each share one thing we need to accomplish that week. A pseudo-scrum meeting, if you will. This week, as I sat on the train to work, I considered what question I’d ask the team to answer about their weekend. I landed on “tell us one yummy thing you ate or drank” and “tell us a color that best represents your weekend.” 

We went around the table and people shared about gimlets, chocolate tortes, and pizza. When it was my turn, I said the best thing I ate was a seared cabbage with anchovies and lemon. Everyone stared. A what? I went on to explain this recipe and what made it so tasty, but they remained largely skeptical. And I don’t blame them. 

This is one of those recipes I didn’t look forward to making and put it off to the end. I can tolerate cabbage when it’s mixed with other things (soup), or when it’s fermented (kimchi, sauerkraut). But a regular, cooked cabbage? That did not sound appetizing. It seems that Alison knew it was a stretch, too. She said this recipe barely made it in the book, but at the final hour, she decided it was too good to exclude. I think she knew just-cooked cabbage could be a hard sell for many cooks. 

I chose to cook a small, sweet cabbage, knowing Jordan and I couldn’t finish off an entire large bulb on our own. I quartered the cabbage and seared it in my cast iron skillet, roughly 6 minutes per side on medium-high heat. Alison says to salt and pepper the cabbage beforehand, but the salt just rolled right off onto the cutting board. I recommend waiting until it's cooked to season it. I melted the butter until foamy and slightly browned, then added the anchovies and let them shrink into tiny bits. I poured the buttery, salty liquid over the cabbage, squeezed half a lemon over the plate, and added flaky sea salt. 

I guess it’s hard to dislike melted butter with anchovies, no matter what you drizzle it over. Even a softened cabbage. And the lemon really takes it to another level. 

187 recipes cooked, 38 to go.

Quick Kimchi by Alison Roman

In the spirit of “quick” kimchi, I’ll also make this quick. 

At the end of the day, I just want kimchi to taste more like pickles. I see the word “fermented” and my taste buds expect a powerful, vinegary tang. Every time, I’m disappointed by kimchi’s overwhelming spicy heat and lack of counterbalancing acid. And while this quick kimchi isn’t overly spicy, which I appreciate, it still lacked a definitive punch, which I crave. 

However, the quickness of this recipe is a real win. Grated garlic and ginger, mixed with salt, red pepper flakes, fish sauce and rice vinegar. Massaging the heck out of a cabbage dood. It all happened so fast and I was left with not one, but TWO jars of mildly-flavored kimchi. Which shall be used this week for Alison’s short rib recipe, AND her cheddar kimchi omelette (it’s up next on the blog!). 

One side note - when I think of Alison’s recipes, I think of Bold Flavor. Of all recipes to have Bold Flavor, one would assume that her kimchi would have this quality. And yet, this is one of the most mild recipes I’ve made thus far. I’m not mad about it, but I’m interested. 

141 recipes cooked, 84 to go.

Bacon-Roasted Pork Tenderloin with Caraway’d Cabbage and Apples by Alison Roman

Imagine you’re in a grocery store, and you’re tasked with selecting the most average, inconsequential ingredient for every type of food. I know it’s a strange hypothetical but stick with me here. 

Snacks: saltines, Cheese: swiss, Cookies: Fig Newtons, Meat: ground turkey OR pork tenderloin, Veggies: definitely cabbage

Apples and bacon are excellent, but still, I was quite skeptical. Oh me of little faith. Leave it to Alison to turn dull foods like pork tenderloin and cabbage into something so fantastic. I ate seconds and thirds. I’ve never enjoyed cabbage so much. Unless finely shredded, raw cabbage doesn’t do anything for me. Sauteed cabbage is limpy and sad. But a roasted cabbage head gets tender in the middle and crispy on the outside, now that’s the kind of cabbage I’ll eat weekly! Okay, monthly. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. 

There’s not much more to this dish outside of the ingredients in the title, except for two that really pull it all together: caraway seeds and red wine vinegar. 

I must confess, I don’t remember ever cooking with caraway seeds, and I couldn’t have told you, even remotely, what they taste like. So I did a bit of a deep dive. According to Wikipedia, caraway is “also known as meridian fennel and Persian cumin” and “is similar in appearance to other members of the carrot family.” Another site says it has a bit of an anise flavor. Based on those descriptions, I was even more confused. But when I finally got ahold of the seeds, I saw that they are practically identical to fennel seeds, just a darker brown and a bit finer. And as odd as it sounded on the internet, they did add a slightly cumin-y, licorice-y, anise-y flavor that complemented the salty pork, tangy apples, and bland cabbage. 

The final finish with vinegar, something Alison calls for a lot, made all of the dish’s elements feel lighter and brighter. It’s also what gave the cabbage the final flavor push it needed. (Small confession. In my old advertising job, I worked exclusively on a client that made vinegar. Their ads always talked about how vinegar could “brighten any dish,” and I thought it sounded like hokey advertising-speak, a little ridiculous. How could you actually “brighten” a dish, besides shining a flashlight on your food? But now, as I attempt to write about vinegar myself, I honestly can’t come up with a better word for how it transforms food. If salt makes flavors taste more like themselves, then vinegar brightens them. Fine, I was wrong!) 

This meal was the simplest main dish to assemble so far. Which served me well, since I needed to put it together quickly and transport it to a dear friend’s apartment to roast. Kailey and I spent the evening talking about how much this meal surprised and delighted us, among other fun topics like popular 90’s Christian rock bands. Jars of Clay, anyone?

15 recipes cooked, 210 to go.