In Autumn, as the weather changes, we put away the tea and cookies of summer. Admittedly most of my readers do not automatically associate tea and cookies with the warmer months, and scoff at the idea of setting aside such splendid pillars of civilization in any case. And likely they doubt the very idea that I would do so, as they know me well enough to understand that my shallow pointless existence revolves entirely around hot milk-tea and cookies. Plus warm baths.
My shallow existence revolves around tea, cookies, and bathing.
And pipe tobacco. Tea, cookies, bathing, and pipe tobacco.
And comfy pillows! No one expects comfy pillows!
Sorry. That was a mental hiccough.
Now, as I was saying.
Autumn suggests somewhat heartier food than is customary during warmer weather. Such things as curries, stews, and earthy fare.
PORK CHOP AND RED CABBAGE CASSEROLE
[Rode kool met varkens koteletten]
Four pork chops; salted, peppered, floured.
Half a head of red cabbage, shredded.
One large onion, sliced thinly.
One or two apples, cored and sliced.
Some slivered ginger.
One Tsp. caraway seeds.
Quarter Tsp. ground cinnamon.
One cup or more of beer.
One and a half TBS sugar.
Juice of one or two lemons.
[Note: when beer is mentioned, do not presume that any old beer will do. Often what is sold in the United States is not really beer, but some bland wheat-based slop, suitable only for spilling on the couch while watching the football game and rinsing out your toilet bowl. If poured on the rose bushes, it will kill them. If drunk, it will induce seizures, impotence, and existential angst. If applied topically, it causes cancer, warts, severe epidermal sloughing, toenail fungus, shrunken testicles, and something remarkably similar to idiocy. You know which beers I mean. The big four. Yeah, those. Sixpack bozo swill. Canned convenience store suds. Instead, use a real beer. Something like Anchor Steam, or a decent dark ale. Let me know if you need suggestions.]
Saute the onion, ginger, and caraway till golden. Add the apple and sugar, and let it sweat on low heat for ten minutes. Add the shredded cabbage, the lemon juice, cinnamon, and optionally a pinch of salt, then cover and put on the back burner for ten minutes with heat-absorber. Splash with half of the beer, and cook for half an hour.
While the cabbage is stewing in its juices, fry the pork chops on both sides, then seethe and deglaze with the remaining beer.
Heat the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit.
After both the cabbage and the beer have been dealt with, decant the now softened cabbage to a clay pot or casserole, place the pork chops on top, cover, and set in the oven for an hour.
Make sure that there is plenty of moisture in the pot.
Some lovely potatoes with parsley would be nice with this, but rice is even better. Potatoes make one slow and lumbersome after eating, whereas cooked white rice makes a meal a meal.
There will be enough for four people.
Or two, plus midnight snacking.
Two rather happy people.
NOTES
For readers from outside the united states, the following info: Caraway seed is called karwij zaad in Dutch, kümmel in German, carvi in French, and köömen, or bruadkrüüs in North Frisian. It is 葛縷子 ('kot lau ji') in Chinese. Kala jeera in Hindi, but do not confuse it with kalonji, which is also sometimes called kala jeera.
Three hundred and fifty degrees Fahrenheit is 175° - 177° Celsius (gas mark 4), or 135° - 146° Réaumur.
American measures figure a cup at being half a pint, or eight fluid ounces. For practical purposes, this is 240 mililitres. There are sixteen Tablespoons (TBS) in a cup (except in Australia), and three teaspoons (Tsp.) to a tablespoon.
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