Green cabbage merits your undivided attention

Owing to a hereditary compulsion to eat fresh fruit and vegetables with every meal, I occasionally find myself in a panic when the veg drawer stores have dwindled at lunch or dinner time. But lo, way in the back of the fridge sits a neglected head of green cabbage! No matter that the outer leaves look a little limp; this spherical brassica can endure forgotten for up to two months, bagged in plastic in the crisper drawer. 

Although my relationship to cabbage unfortunately began as a last-resort veg (celery, your article is forthcoming), I've come to cherish its versatility — grilled, roasted, sautéd or raw, recipe star or supporting actress. 

My early memories cemented cabbage as little more than root vegetable filler in a boiled dinner starring brackish corned beef, or encasing humble beef and rice filling in my German-born grandmother's stuffed cabbage rolls. As much as I loved the latter, the use of cabbage leaves owed almost entirely (and explicitly) to their practicality — another economical use for this sturdy "storage vegetable," as my grandmother, a lifelong gardener, often called it.

With time, I realized I was willfully leaving deliciousness on the table by limiting cabbage to the role of background vegetable or beef-and-rice envelope. For instance, have you ever known the sweet, roasty charred delights of a grilled cabbage wedge sprinkled with bright lemon zest and a drizzle of olive oil? Or considered what a tasty fried rice building block sliced cabbage makes alongside ginger, scallions, eggs and shrimp? Have you delighted in the jammy sweetness of braised cabbage smeared with tomato paste and showered with fresh dill? What about the beguiling, cooling quality of peppery raw cabbage slaw tossed with lots of lemon and a generous pinch of dried mint? Would you say no to cabbage sautéed with garlicky kielbasa and thinly sliced potatoes, or swirled into a warming minestrone starring white beans, fennel and tomatoes? 

The good news is, once you've opened your mind to one of these possibilities — or, perhaps, to my all-purpose stir-fried cabbage and tomato — you should have enough cabbage leftover to venture into a second or a third. 

Want more great food writing and recipes? Subscribe to Salon Food's newsletter, The Bite.

Before long, you'll find yourself wondering whether thinnish sliced cabbage wedges make for a delicious gratin base in place of potatoes. (Spoiler: Yes.) Or perhaps you'll start tossing your homemade caesar dressing with charred cabbage leaves instead of romaine. (Just don't forget a shower of fresh, pan-fried breadcrumbs, please.) 

All of this awaits you in the back of the crisper drawer, and with far more patience than the rest of those frail vegetables, I might add.

Salon Food writes about stuff we think you'll like. While our editorial team independently selected these products, Salon has affiliate partnerships, so making a purchase through our links may earn us a commission.