I don't know how I end up down some of these rabbit trails. I have this weird brain that skips off to chase butterflies, and then suddenly wonders what the dust on their wings is made of. Then I spend days poring over everything I can find on butterfly dust. I research weird stuff, learning endless amounts of absolutely useless information, all of which I find quite interesting.
Like the lowdown on sauerkraut.
I never cared much for the stuff. I've tried the kind in jars and cans. It's OK on a Reuben, I guess, but I would never have said to myself, "You know what sounds really good right now? Some sauerkraut!" eeew. But a friend of mine was recently talking about how his mom used to make pickled peppers stuffed with kraut, and how fabulous they were. I was unconvinced, but he went on and on about it until, intrigued, I volunteered to make some.
I'm always up for a culinary adventure. Figuring kraut-stuffed pickled peppers would have to taste better with homemade kraut, and still having a lot of cabbage in the garden, I went searching for a recipe on how to make it. What I learned was that there's the fresh kind (which I didn't know and had never had), and the aforementioned ubiquitous canned variety, which is the fresh kind "put up" in any number of ways, and which never rang my bell. There's also Bavarian kraut, with brown sugar, bacon and onions, which sounds interesting. I really don't see how you can go wrong with anything associated with brown sugar, bacon and onions. And the traditional German kind has juniper berries in it. The jury's out on juniper berries.
In my search for a recipe, I also learned sauerkraut means "sour cabbage" in German. You mix raw, shredded cabbage with a dose of salt and let it stew in its own juice for 4 to 6 weeks, during which time lots of little lactic acid bacteria do their thing, fermenting the sugars in the cabbage, and producing the tangy stuff we heap on hotdogs. Roman writings from before Jesus was born refer to fermenting vegetables, and you can ferment just about any kind of veggie, including carrots, turnips, beets, or what-have-you. Genghis Khan carried kraut with him when he traipsed off to thrash the Chinese, and kraut traveled around Europe through the centuries, ending up in France, where it's called choucroute. James Cook stocked kraut in barrels aboard his ship when he was sailing the Seven Seas, because it prevents scurvy. Good to know.
Sauerkraut has a surprising number of health benefits. In addition to C, B & K vitamins, which increase during fermentation, all those lactobacilli, probiotics, and beneficial microbes, along with a decent dose of fiber, are good for your innards. Numerous studies over the years have proven what your great-granny could have told you without all that grant money getting spent: it's good for your ulcers and calms your bowels. She also would have had you put a chaw of it in your cheek to treat that nasty canker sore. I don't know who it was that first said to themselves, "Gee, I wonder if sauerkraut could be the cure for cancer!?" But in 2002 and 2010, well documented studies found sauerkraut fermentation inhibited cancer cell growth in animal and test tube studies, and that "detoxifying enzymes by cabbage juices, particularly sauerkraut, may be responsible for chemopreventive activity demonstrated in animal models." Hey, it's not just for scurvy anymore!
Really, if you think about it, the only downside to sauerkraut is, if you eat too much of it, it'll make you gassy.
After a bunch of research, and the accumulation of yet more knowledge of dubious usefulness, I decided the fresh stuff seemed like a bit of a pain to make, mostly because you have to have the right type of container to make it in, and it takes four to six weeks to ferment. So, the whole kraut-stuffed pickled pepper project got put on the back burner until I had the time and equipment to ferment cabbage.
Fortuitously, that very weekend there was this great Fall Festival in Springs, PA. A lot of people loosely refer to it as "The Amish Festival", which is what I thought it was until I started researching it (told you). There are a lot of folks represented there besides the Amish, who actually tend to sell their wares outside the gate, and along the road and who, by the way, have the best cheeses you ever ate in your life! (Right here I started to go off on a tangent about the festival, but we're here to talk about sauerkraut, so I reigned myself in and gave you a link instead.)
The festival is kind of a big deal around here, and everybody I know was talking about going. I was regaled with tales of "last year," and all the fabulous foods, Appalachian crafts, Gospel music, demonstrations, and such. They had me at "food." There were mentions of cheese, apple butter, homemade breads, beef and wild game jerkies, corn meal mush, real maple syrup (which is DEE-LISH on mush!), hand-churned ice cream, homemade donuts, BBQ, and, you guessed it, fresh sauerkraut.
I came home laden with all manner of down-home Appalachian goodies and 3 pounds or so of fresh, home-made kraut. I was hooked with the first bite. If the only sauerkraut you have ever had came out of a can, my friend, you have not had sauerkraut. "Fresh" is a whole different creetur!
Most of that 3 pounds when into pickled peppers, which were actually darn good, if I do say so myself. I used colorful hot and sweet peppers, purchased from a Mennonite girl at the festival, which were quite pretty in the jar.
My buddy from work made off with three jars, and I kept one for myself. Alas, they are all gone now. But, as we speak, I have 15 pounds of cabbage curing in the kitchen, and more pickled peppers planned for the near future.
If you want to try your hand at it, here are two recipes to get you started!
FRESH SAUERKRAUT
If you don't have a kraut crock (which I do not), you can use a 5-gallon plastic pail and lid. Lowes sells them in the paint section. Get the white one, not the one with colorant added to the plastic. Thoroughly mix 20 lbs. of white* cabbage, somewhat coarsely shredded (not too thin, and not too thick), with one cup of UN-iodized salt. I put in a layer of cabbage, followed by a sprinkle of salt, etc., until it's all filled up, and then stir it really well. Press it down hard, and put a layer of cheese cloth on top, tucking it in around the edges. Take several gallon-size Ziploc bags, double them, fill them with water, and zip-close carefully. Lay these gently around on the top of the cheese cloth, covering it, to keep the cabbage pressed down. (WalMart and Bed, Bath & Beyond sell cheese cloth; it's sort of a gauzy fabric, in case you're wondering, and comes in a package.) Place lid loosely on top of the bucket. Allow it to ferment 4-6 weeks in a somewhat cool area, until it's at the consistency you prefer. Voilà – sauerkraut! It can then be canned in jars, if you like – either in its own juice, or rinsed and in a pickling brine – or stored fresh in jars in a cool place for several months; longer if refrigerated.
*You can also use purple (aka red) cabbage to make fresh sauerkraut, and it's quite pretty. But I have not tried pickling it in peppers yet, and do not know whether the color would bleed into the brine, making it unsightly. If you're not going to use your kraut to stuff pickled peppers, or if you're the adventurous sort, open to the possibility of purple pickled peppers – go for it! Send me a pic and let me know how it turns out!
SAUERKRAUT STUFFED PICKLED PEPPERS*
Makes 3 to 4 Quarts
BRINE
3 c. apple cider vinegar
2 c. water
2 c. sugar
THE REST OF THE INGREDIENTS
16-20 Banana, or similar, peppers (hot, sweet or combo)
Fresh sauerkraut (or canned, if you must!)
Fresh red onion ring slices
1 T. garlic per jar
DIRECTIONS
I like to run my canning jars through the dishwasher, timing them to be done just when I am about to use them, so they're clean and hot. Have your canning lids in very hot (but not boiling) water on the stove. Bring your water to a simmer in your canning pot.
Cut the tops off the peppers and remove the seeds. Stuff the peppers full with sauerkraut. I use a chop stick to poke the kraut down into the tip of the pepper.
Mix your brine ingredients in a pot and bring it to a good boil, until clear, just a minute or three.
Pack the stuffed peppers tightly in the jars, and place a few red onion ring slices around the outside for looks (also they're yummy when pickled). Put 1 tablespoon minced garlic in each jar. Pour in hot brine, leaving an inch of space at top of jar. Place the lids on top and hand tighten the rings.
Process jars 15 minutes in a hot water bath. Remove to counter, away from drafts, and let cool for 24 hours. Check seal, making sure lid has sunk in, and does not "pop" if pressed. If it is not properly sealed, either process it in the water bath again or put them in the fridge and eat them within a week or two.
For best flavor, allow canned peppers to age a week before eating. Keep refrigerated after opening.
Bon Apetit!
*These instructions assume you have a little bit of experience with canning. If this is your first try at it, I recommend the Ball Blue Book (or similar) for a really great reference and a lot of recipes.