CONCORD, N.H. – Full disclosure: This one isn’t pretty.
When I struck upon the idea of cooking something Russian, I was hankering for something earthy and rich, something that would stick to my ribs but wasn’t a tired classic American comfort dish.
However, I wanted something that looked a lot better than the gray baked cabbage I ended up with.
Russian food seemed a good choice. Not only can it taste quite good, it also can be visually stunning, thanks in part to its generous use of ingredients such as beets, carrots, raisins and a variety of cheeses. What a color palette.
I know this not because I have tromped the food halls of Russia, but because I played hooky in high school. A lot.
When I wasn’t in school – and that counts as the better part of my senior year – my adventures often took me to Boston, where funky cafes seduced with copious cups of coffee and the sort of faux philosophizing only teenagers appreciate.
My favorite was Troika, a cramped Russian restaurant across the street from Harvard. English wasn’t on the menu, but a dizzying array of zakuski (starters) was, including cucumbers in sour cream and vegetable canapes with radishes, tomatoes and, of course, sour cream.
The stuffed doughs – the pirogs and pirozhkis – were amazing, and amazingly cheap. But my favorite dish was a salad of chopped beets, diced cucumber, raisins, shredded carrot, tomato, marinated mushrooms and cottage cheese. It was as delicious as it was beautiful.
An equally absentee classmate and I would sit at the cafe for hours. And though I loved it, those meals clearly influenced him more than me. He went on to study Russian and live in that nation’s far corners for years.
So when I recently found myself craving that earthy but not-quite-American comfort food, I gave him a call. A few days later a copy of the recipe for one of his favorite Russian dishes arrived.
Cabbage baked with feta, from Anya von Bremzen and John Welchman’s “Please to the Table: The Russian Cookbook” (Workman Publishing, 1990, $19.95), actually is from Moldova, once part of the Soviet Union.
The recipe promises to bring out the best in cabbage. I was inclined to believe it. With butter, oil, sour cream, eggs and feta cheese among the ingredients, how could it not be good?
It was delicious, and offered far more flavor than you would expect from cabbage, even smothered in dairy. That’s party due to slowly frying the cabbage until brown and crispy.
But, as I said, this isn’t Russian food at its most attractive.
The dish needs color. For a second batch I added a cup of julienned carrots and 1/2 cup golden raisins just before baking. The result was a much improved appearance, as well as a subtle sweetness that complemented the feta cheese.
This is a great side dish for a cool autumn dinner, and would go well with a mild and creamy soup, perhaps of pureed winter squash or potatoes.
Cabbage baked with feta
1firm head green cabbage, cored and finely slivered
8tablespoons unsalted butter
2tablespoons vegetable oil
1/4cup sour cream
2large eggs
1/4cup finely chopped fresh dill
Salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste
1and 1/3 cups finely crumbled feta cheese
1/2cup plain bread crumbs
1to 2 teaspoons sweet Hungarian paprika
Preheat oven to 375 degrees.
Bring a large stockpot of water to a boil. Blanch the cabbage for 2 minutes, then drain and transfer to a kitchen towel. Pat dry.
Heat a large skillet over a medium flame. Add 3 tablespoons butter and the oil. Add the cabbage and saute, stirring frequently, until the cabbage is nicely browned, about 15 to 20 minutes. Set the cabbage aside until cool.
While the cabbage cools, in a small bowl whisk together the sour cream and eggs. Add the sour-cream mixture to the cabbage and mix well. Add the dill, salt and pepper and mix again. Transfer the cabbage mixture to a medium casserole or baking dish.
In a small bowl combine the feta cheese and bread crumbs. Sprinkle the cheese mixture over the cabbage. Sprinkle paprika over the cheese and bread crumbs.
Melt the remaining butter and pour it evenly over the cabbage. Bake until bubbly and lightly browned, about 15 minutes.
Makes 6 servings.
Recipe from Anya von Bremzen and John Welchman’s “Please to the Table: The Russian Cookbook,” Workman Publishing, 1990, $19.95.
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