I did something I swore I would NEVER do.
I rarely limit my culinary adventures. So far, the boundaries stop at beets and things from the ocean I can’t spell or recognize. But even way before that, I made up my mind long ago that making this dish is just not for me. I think I knew deep down that I might one day come to terms with tomatoes, and I have. I like them now. There might be hope for beets in a few years.
But never in a million years did I think I would make this for Stephen. In fact, the last time he had someone make this for him, it was my friend from TN who taught in the classroom next to me. She knew my utter revulsion for this dish and so she brought a bowl of it to pass along to him. He reminds me often how nice that was. But he never asked for this. He knew I had hard limits on this.
So imagine his surprise when he could smell it a mile away.
Here’s what happened. I was in the store and I saw these jars on sale and I got two of them. I wanted to do something really nice for him that he would not expect. He’s been working very hard to get our table done, and chairs ordered, and school projects done. Now, he’s building my dish cabinet/storage unit. I don’t want the traditional china cabinet. I want something different and he’s making it for me.
So, I sauteed some sausage and onions. Then, I cleared a path to the bedroom so I could run fast AWAY from the putridness I was about to call down. I opened the jar. Turned the heat down so I wouldn’t have to stand there and watch it. I poured this stuff in the pan and ran like scalded cat. And Frankie followed me. When the smell hit his little furry nose, he hauled kitty arse under the bed.
Once the smell died down, I got a nasty picture of it. I’m pretty sure this is a foodgawker FAIL.
That, my friends, is SAUERKRAUT. Sour cabbage. Stinky stuff in a jar.
And many people, especially my German friends, love this. I’m not able to embrace the ‘kraut love.
After he devoured this, grinning from ear to ear, and I turned on the fans, opened the windows, sprayed 3 jars of Febreeze, I made my own dinner.
Doesn’t this look much better?
And while Stephen was still in shock and Frankie kept wiping his nose, I enjoyed this outside where the smells of rain and fall were in the air and my Wife of the Year award is shining bright.