I grew up in Romania, where late fall meant sauerkraut.
It was practically a national business in the late 80s, and I remember queuing up early in the market with hundreds of other people, waiting for the cabbage deliveries. Mostly with dread, I’ll admit, with a tad of fondness now. This week I’m sharing three recipes from that side of my kitchen: a soup, a jar, and a loaf.
Romanian meatball soup (ciorba de perisoare)
I’m always looking to stack plants where I can, and these do it well. The soup has carrots, onion, pepper, tomatoes, peas, and herbs, and the pink sauerkraut puts four plants in one jar, with the live bacteria that come from natural fermentation.
The Soup
Meatball soup (ciorba de perisoare) is the soup I grew up eating and made for my family hundreds of times: a sour, tomato-rich broth with soft meatballs and plenty of vegetables. Traditionally the sourness comes from borș, a fermented wheat bran liquid, but a squeeze of lemon does the job in a home kitchen. Mom made it with pork mince when I was growing up, and now she often uses turkey from the farm. I use lean beef, and it’s on the table in about 45 minutes.
If you are thinking about natural fermentation, but not sure where to start, my pink sauerkraut is chunks of red cabbage, garlic, dill, and chili in a simple salt brine. There’s no massaging and no vats, just a jar and about a week on the counter. A forkful adds crunch and tang next to anything rich, and I love it at breakfast with scrambled eggs and smoked salmon.
I grew up with enriched breads, and in Romania sweet, buttery, egg-rich doughs are part of how a family bakes. My mom makes wonderful ones, and this loaf started as one of her yeast brioche recipes, adapted for my sourdough starter. The best things is you can mix it after dinner, it rises overnight on the bench, and you shape and bake it the next day. It’s about 16 hours from start to finish, but almost all of that is hands-off. ny stale slices make excellent French toast.
