Thanks for the cabbage

We've encountered sauerkraut in all the usual places: a memorable, heart busting triple sausages and ham platterful in Strasbourg (of course) where they manged to serve their traditional dish with some subtlety and well as monstrous portions; then there were the barrels of dozens of different ones at the Christmas market, we think it was Baden Baden, but it could have just as easily been anywhere in Alsace or southern Germany; and then the famous Eisbahn, eaten this time in Berlin where there idea of a piece of ham seemed to include best part of a leg, for one of course.
Thanks to the Polish invasion, the base ingredient - the pickled cabbage - comes in giant jars from Asda as well as the wonderful Wally's. The brand is Krakus who do all sorts of marvelous things in jars. The problem then, to recreate the idea of lots of tastes of porky things, without going over the top, and encouraging heart attacks.
The first trick is to extract the cabbage - you need about half a large (900 gm) jar for two, but it's packed in solid. I used a fork to start with, then my hands. As you pull the cabbage out, carefully pull it into its shreds, if you don't you'll just have an indigestible lump. Put into a large bowl with some crumpled bay leaves, some juniper berries and a real crunch of pepper. At this point I also added the last chunk of the home cooked ham diced into bite sized bits. Give everything a good mix by hand and cover.
At this point a pack of tasty sausages went in the oven to cook: flavour is what we're after and if you're cooking for more than two then a couple of kinds won't go wrong either. If you want a kick a piece of chorizo would be good.
The last taste was going to come from some bacon - in this case unsmoked cubes gently cooked off in a non stick pan, but again anything goes.
Once the sausages were well cooked and sticky the cabbage, well infused with its herbs by now, goes in the microwave. Give a stir halfway through. Then assemble by stirring in the hot bacon bits (and yes, the flavoursome fat ..) distributing on plates and adding the sausages.
Traditionally the only extras are steamed potatoes, plain as they come, and mustard. There's a very nice mustard and horseradish courtesy of the Poles' too, so try it for a change.

Retro wraps

Way back in those Babby Belling days (passim) someone hit on the idea of adding curry powder to baked beans: it gave a whole new life to end-of-the-month beans on toast. Then Heinz got clever and started doing them in the can, but they added raisins too, a truly terrible idea that I hope has died along with Vesta curries. Still, it gave me an idea for a quick - don't mess up the kitchen 'cos we are 'open house' - supper.
Take can of beans (yes, low sugar and salt is fine) add loads of hot stuff (Tabasco, chilli sauce etc and a fresh chilli or two), chop spring onions for crunch, and loads of small cubes of the home cooked ham.
Stuff four wraps and place in an oiled dish, cover with grated cheese, bake and eat.
Posh it ain't, but retro wraps were not bad at all.

Spiced up mussels, another variation

We've a house "Open Day" tomorrow, hence the paucity of food blogs, we daren't use the kitchen! But tonight the mussels were demanding something a bit more seasonally warming than just, say white wine and cream. So a spiced broth in which to steam them:
a glug of oil, two finely chopped small onions, a large splash each of fish sauce, white wine vinegar, lime juice, dry sherry: some larger than others depending on the result you want. A chunk of ginger, a whole but deseeded green chilli and a big handful of parsley and some lemon thyme add the spicy flavours.
Cook for 15-20 minutes and then leave to cool. Pick out all the stalky things before adding the mussels to steam. Serve with lots of finely chopped parsley (coriander would be even better methinks) and a splosh of sweet chilli sauce: maybe that's a glug too far, but this is November guys!

Stocking up makes sense

There's been much about this week on how much food goes to waste, and our own experience is that far too much languishes at the back of the fridge when the weekly restock happens. Today it was clear that with what was leftovers, and not likely to be used, there was plenty to start a fine vegetable stock.
Leftovers yielded a third of a swede, some sad but fine once peeled carrots, half a lost onion and a chunk of courgette - where did the rest go? Into the stock pot.
Incoming from the shop went the leek tops - does anyone get dirty leeks these days? - the tops of the spring onions that were already a bit limp, quite a chunk of parsley stalks and some lemon thyme. Bay leaves and marjoram, home dried, and some juniper berries and pepper corns introduced some flavour. Oh, and a couple of garlics and a chunk of ginger. All ready to hubble and bubble and do magic for tomorrow's soup.
Except, along comes himself wanting know what's happening to the piece of ham that's been waiting to be cooked for a week. So that goes in too.
Result after 90 minutes? One ham with much more flavour than it might have had otherwise and ready to be chilled down.
And the stock, strained it went back on the heat to reduce and when tested it had a fine flavour that would have made an excellent broth on its own: in the restaurant we used to take very, very hot soups bowls, put in a scant handful of julienned vegetables and pour on boiling stock like this. Just a tablespoon of dry sherry on top. Very grand, but it's the stock what does it.
Or you could convert into Tom Yam: never be without a jar of this wonderful paste. If doing for one, similar process - in a hot bowl just slice some mushrooms, or chicken or a mix, add a teaspoon - to taste - of paste and boiling stock. Stir and eat.
In the end though the stock was used to help with the left-overs mountain: sweated leeks, carrots, garlic, ginger, a chilli and half a squash soon started to smell delicious. Half the stock went in together with a handful of chopped parsley. When cooked the rest of the stock was added for a quick cool down so the vegetables could be liquidised in the pan. Checked for seasoning, but it didn't need 'owt. A handful or more of red lentils to give a bit of substance and bite and there we have it, sense of stock and leftovers.