Showing posts with label Cabbage. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cabbage. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Hot 'n' Cold

Oh Cambodia. If I wrote an ode to Cambodia it would probably start off by praising the joys of Siem Riep and the Angkor Wat, then the joys of Sihanoukville and some heavenly beaches (albeit with some dodgy dogs), and a more reserved line about Phnom Penh. The real lowpoints though would be the roads and the food. I tried, I really did. I ate quite a few Khmer dishes (read lots of) and I got excited about one. And it was a salad.

There’s nothing wrong with the food, it just doesn’t really do it for me. When a burger is the food highlight of your week, you know there is something not quite right. It was a heavyweight burger though, even by international standards. Extra bonus points came in the form of blue cheese. My dining partner was a little freaked out by the amount of enthusiasm I had for that blue cheese, I still maintain it was within the normal limits. Whatever.

And when your food doesn’t excite you, all kinds of bad things start to happen. I went on a date with a guy I’d met in a bar the night before in Siem Riep. The conversation had been amazing – zip, zap, boom – we never stopped talking all night. We talked about everything, I’m sure in our partially ginned minds we had put the world to rights, no subject was too large or too small for our beady-eyed attention.

I was so excited when I woke up, convinced this was going to be the date of a lifetime. But then, when the time actually came, with a plate of bland food in front of us, the conversation and our interest in one another died such a sad little death I was tempted to have a funeral for it. My seafood was rubbery and in a sauce that was a cross between a curry and a sweet and sour, but strangely lacking the merits of either. His was some kind of instant noodle confection, peppered with a few vegetables here and there for authenticity.

On a good note though, the salad incident took place in Phnom Penh and though it still sported instant noodles as one of the main ingredients, somehow it worked. It was a simple combination of shredded red cabbage (I TOLD you it was all about the cabbage, see previous post), white onions, instant noodles, lettuce leaves and chicken broiled and served with dried garlic and sweet chilli sauce. I think the chef probably just made it up, though it bore the name of Spicy Khmer Chicken Salad. Sounds rather dodgy but it was actually heaven. I’m looking forward to the day when we can be reunited in my kitchen.

Plus, what Cambodia lacked in food for the stomach, it more than made up for in food for the soul (retch but I had to use that phrase, just once). Here’s a selection of the shots I got while I was there... There are more on the camera that I haven’t uploaded yet so these will have to do.



Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Mange le cabbage

Cabbage isn't sexy. It's used for terrible sadistic diets. Lent its name to an interesting children's programme in the 80s with very ugly characters. If I called you a cabbage, it wouldn't be a compliment. Even the word is a bit ugly, like it could be an inventive swear word. You cabbage.

It's thoughts like that that make this a bit of an underchampioned vegetable. But things can change - look at broccoli - ten years ago it was an ugly sprouty veg that was often chopped up, boiled to death and served limply with a few token carrots next to your meat. And now? It's a veritable va va voom of vegginess - soupy, quiched, steamed and served with soy, it's everywhere. I predict the same fate for cabbages. You heard it here first.

Moving swiftly on, cabbage was the basis of my very filling and tasty lunch. If this doesn't have you grubbing around the back of the fridge looking for the one you bought at Christmas with a vague intention of making a coleslaw, well, you're a right cabbage. Beware though, it does take patience. Once that caramelizing smell gets into your nostrils, you're going to have a battle on your hands not bashing it all onto a plate and gobbling it right there, but persevere, it's worth it.

Caramelized cabbage and onion with creme fraiche



1 small red cabbage
1/2 savoy cabbage
1 tablespoon butter
1 tablespoon olive oil
4 tablespoons maple syrup
2 tsp sugar
Sprig rosemary
Italian seasoning herbs
3 tablespoons balsamic vinegar.

Chop up the cabbage and onion into medium slices. Put into a pan with the rosemary sprig, Italian herbs, butter and olive oil and place on a low fire. Leave for 40-45 minutes, stirring occassionally to stop from sticking.




When the cabbage and onion are 'lifeless' i.e. very soft, add the balsamic vinegar, Maple syrup and sugar. Stir well. Leave for another 20-25 minutes while stirring until the sauce has reduced to a thick, sticky coating. Take off the fire and serve with a dollop of creme fraiche on top.