{"id":1090,"date":"2008-11-11T07:01:00","date_gmt":"2008-11-11T07:01:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/elitemporaryblog.wordpress.com\/2008\/11\/11\/out-of-love"},"modified":"2008-11-11T07:01:00","modified_gmt":"2008-11-11T07:01:00","slug":"out-of-love","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/orangette.net\/2008\/11\/out-of-love\/","title":{"rendered":"Out of love"},"content":{"rendered":"
I am not trying to torture you, I promise. I know it must seem like I sit around all day, cackling evilly, stroking my black cat, scheming up ways to trick you into eating lima beans<\/a> and kale<\/a>, but I don\u2019t. Cross my heart. I don\u2019t even have a cat – although I do<\/span> sometimes cackle, but never at your expense. Everything I do here, I do out of love. Which is also, coincidentally, why I am going to talk today about a Savoy cabbage gratin.<\/p>\n Those of you who have been around here for a while may remember that I am quite<\/a> fond<\/a> of<\/a> a book called All About Braising<\/span><\/a>, by Molly Stevens. Actually, I\u2019m so fond of it, and so nerdy, that I\u2019ve plastered my copy with a pack of Post-It\u00ae flags<\/a> left over from my half-hearted attempt at graduate school, one flag for each recipe that catches my eye. As of this writing, there are 16 flags in all, enough to make the poor thing look like it\u2019s wearing one of those jackets with fringe<\/a> that were all the rage in the eighties. I am a little bit crazy about this book. Even more so now that I\u2019ve made the Savoy cabbage gratin on page 61.<\/p>\n Here\u2019s how it works: you slice up a head of Savoy cabbage, along with a bunch of scallions. Then you melt some butter in a large skillet, toss in the cabbage and scallions, and let them cook until the cabbage wilts and starts, just barely, to brown. Then you add some stock and bring it to a simmer, and then you turn the whole mess into a gratin dish. Then you bake it for about an hour under a nice, snug blanket of foil – this is the braising<\/a> part, just so you know – until it goes completely relaxed. Then, then<\/span>, as though a dish of meltingly tender cabbage were not soothing enough for a cool night, you take a ration of soft, creamy, pungent cheese – Molly Stevens calls for Saint-Marcellin, but I used Delice de Bourgogne, a triple-cream – and cut it into bits and nubs, which you then scatter over the top. Then you return said cabbage to the oven for another ten minutes, just long enough to melt the cheese and make the kitchen smell outrageously savory and complex, causing everyone present, including you, to stare impatiently at the oven door.<\/p>\n Now, I know I said a lot of nice things about those lima beans last week. I know I compared them to cream-braised Brussels sprouts<\/a>, a type of praise that is not to be toyed with. But I am tempted to say the same sort of thing about this gratin. This thing is a keeper. As Luisa<\/a> would say, it\u2019s lamination-worthy, even. We were with our friends Ben and Bonnie and Olaiya on election night, and I think Ben put it best. After he took his first mouthful, he looked up from his plate and said solemnly, proudly, \u201cMOLLY.<\/span>\u201d To get the full effect, you really had to hear him say it, but you get the idea. He liked it a lot. This one is for him.<\/p>\n Savoy Cabbage Gratin<\/span> A couple of notes about ingredients:<\/p>\n – Good stock, either chicken or vegetable, is key here. The first time I made this gratin, I used a quick homemade chicken stock<\/a>, and it was delicious. The second time, I used store-bought vegetable stock – Imagine brand No-Chicken Broth<\/a> \u2013 and though I wasn\u2019t sure what to expect, it was just as good. In general, though, be picky about store-bought stocks: often, I find, the chicken kind tastes too strong, too overwhelmingly chicken-y, while the vegetable kind tastes just plain gross. That particular Imagine broth is the only one I really like, because it actually tastes<\/span> like vegetable stock.<\/p>\n<\/a>
This, in case you wondered, is what love looks like. Isn\u2019t it beautiful? In a vaguely Little Shop of Horrors<\/span><\/a> way? Actually, don\u2019t answer that. I don\u2019t want anything to color my feelings for this cabbage.<\/p>\n<\/a>
It may not look particularly inspiring, but this gratin made me cry last Tuesday night. Our new(!) president(!) may have also had something to do with it, but for now, let\u2019s focus on the gratin. Talking politics around here makes me nervous, but I am always happy to talk cabbage. Especially Savoy cabbage, the ruffly-collared beauty queen of the cold months. Until I tried this recipe, I didn\u2019t know quite what to do with it, aside from putting it in the crisper drawer, forgetting about it, and cussing profusely when it started to rot. But now I most certainly do know what to do, and I think I will do it at least once every couple of weeks, or, who am I kidding, once a week, until the warm months come back from wherever they went.<\/p>\n
Adapted from All About Braising<\/span><\/a>, by Molly Stevens<\/p>\n