Now, listen, Bubala.

Good, take these with you in the car. You’ll have a little nosh on your way home.

(Just a random excerpt taken from one of many random conversations occurring in the kitchens of many a Bubbe around the world.)

Easter and Passover fall at the same time this year. While lot’s of folks are stocking up on eggs for dying, peeps on my end of the universe are stocking up on matzo. And subsequently, stool softeners. Are they even Kosher for Passover?

Easter celebrates the miracle of Christ rising. Passover celebrates the miracle of the Jewish people making their way out of the desert. With a minimum of complaints.

Oy, the heat!

The bread, it’s so dry.

I don’t get excited over Passover. It isn’t what I would call the *best* food holiday because the desserts for Passover are generally the *worst* I’ve put in my mouth.

Who *actually* wants a brownie made out of matzo meal? Would it be wrong to make them slutty? Is that even possible?

Nope, Passover IS NOT a time when you save room for dessert. Instead you load up on dinner and tell your host, just before dessert is served, that you have to go because the babysitter had a family emergency. Never mind that you don’t have children.

Details, schmetails.

This cabbage is one of those dishes from the Passover table on which you would want to load up. Matter of fact, this stuffed cabbage is good anytime of the year and any day of the week. Especially a crappy day. A day that you just want to eat your feelings – like a civilized person, not on the couch with a spoon, a Snuggie, and a jar of Biscoff.

This cabbage is stuffed with seasoned ground beef and raisins, then baked in a sweet and sour sauce. It’s hearty, it’s comforting. It’s soul food.

So, really. When you get a chance. Sit. Eat. Clean your plate. You’ll do the Bubbes of the universe proud.

Sweet and Sour Stuffed Cabbage
(Adapted from America’s Best Lost Recipes)

1 large head of cabbage
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 cup onions, diced
1 15-ounce can tomato sauce
1 1/2 pounds ground beef
1/4 teaspoon all spice
1/4 cup raisins
salt and pepper
1 sheet matzo, crumbled (or use 1/2 cup cooked rice if not making this for Passover)
1 egg, beaten
1 16-ounce can cranberry sauce
1 15-ounce can diced tomatoes

Preheat the oven to 350. Lightly grease a 9 x 13 pan.

In a large bowl, soak the crumbled matzo in 1/4 cup of hot water. Set aside.

In a medium pan, saute the onions in the oil until the onions are golden. Add the allspice and raisins and saute a few minutes, until fragrant. Remove the onion and raisin mixture from the heat and add it to the bowl of soaking matzo. Add a 1/2 cup of the tomato sauce and stir until well combined. Allow the mixture to cool.

In a medium bowl, combine the remaining tomato sauce with the cranberry sauce, diced tomatoes. and 1/2 teaspoon of salt. Set aside.

In the meantime, wash the cabbage well and working carefully, pull off 12 of the outermost leaves of cabbage, keeping the tearing to a minimum.

Bring a large pot of water to boil and immerse the cabbage leaves, boiling for 3 minutes. After 3 minutes, remove the cabbage leaves and drain them well. Set aside to cool.

Returning to the cooled matzo mixture, add the ground beef, egg, 1 teaspoon salt and 1/2 teaspoon pepper and mix until well combined.

Place approximately 1/4 cup of the beef filling at the base end of each cabbage leaf and roll the leaves around the filling, tucking the sides in to create a sealed package.

Arrange a thin layer of the tomato and cranberry sauce mixture in the bottom of the 9 x 13 pan. Place the stuffed and rolled cabbage leaves on top of the sauce and cover the rolls with the remaining sauce. Cover the pan tightly with foil and bake 1 1/2 hours. Serve.

This is not your traditional St. Patrick’s day corned beef.

And canoodling up to the beef – that isn’t your traditional St. Patrick’s day cabbage.

In fact, you could say that corned beef and cabbage is a total betrayal of the holiday tradition. But! But! Betrayal is our theme today, in honor of the Ides of March.

Oh, the soothsayer could never have predicted such a twist as this.

(And, oh, I’m such a nerd.)

If only the soothsayer knew what it was to have those meaty, salty-sweet slices of barbecue-glazed corned beef pass his lips, Caesar’s prophecy would surely have been gentler and kinder. Had the soothsayer known that cabbage was roasted in thick wedges and liberally doused with a lemony dijon oil, good ole’ Jules may have come away alive. Perhaps with only his neighbor dicking him over by calling the HOA about the rotting soffit above his garage.

Alas, I’m not sure that either corned beef or barbecue sauce existed in Roman times. Or Shakespeare’s times. Which definitely puts a monkey wrench into my story. And keeps Brutus one big, bad jerk who’d do swimmingly on the Real Househusbands of Ancient Rome.

Bravo, are you writing all this down? Tell Andy Cohen I have a crush on him that’s nearly as ill-fated as Julius Caesar’s reign. Call me!

I know I’m breaking some rules with this corned beef and cabbage. I’ve probably taken a few liberties that I”m not even aware of. That’s what happens when you’re Jewish and the only corned beef you know is being slapped steaming between two slices of rye bread and smothered with spicy brown mustard, crumbling tumbling out the sides each time you pick the sandwich up, served alongside a crispy half-done pickle. *Sigh*

I’m a little verklempt. Corned beef and cabbage – talk amongst yourselves.

Barbecue Glazed Corned Beef and Dijon Roasted Cabbage

1 corned beef brisket (3 to 5 lbs), soaked overnight in cold water to remove excess salt
1/2 cup barbecue sauce
2 tablespoons brown sugar
2 tablespoons lemon juice
2 teaspoons dijon mustard
3 tablespoons olive oil
salt and pepper

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

Remove the corned beef from its cold water soak and place it in a medium roasting pan, fat side up. Cover with the barbeque sauce and sprinkle the top of the meat with brown sugar. Cover the dish tightly with foil and bake for 2 hours.

Remove the foil and turn the oven up to broil. Finish the brisket under the broiler for approximately 5 minutes, until bubbly and crisp. Allow the meat to rest 10 minutes before slicing.

For the cabbage: Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

Whisk the olive oil, lemon juice, and dijon mustard in a small bowl. Set aside

Slice the cabbage into 8 evenly sized wedges and arrange them in a 9 x 13 dish so the wedges touch but don’t overlap. Brush the wedges liberally with the olive oil mixture. Season with salt and pepper and place in the oven and roast 30 minutes, until browned and wilted.

This flank steak has made an appearance in my kitchen at least 563 times.

Perhaps that’s a gross exaggeration: more like 369 times.

The greatest thing about this steak? Each time I make it, Mr. Hausfrau raves about it and smacks his lips like it’s the first time he’s ever had flank steak this way and his life is changed. Think angels singing and playing harps.

I feel like a superhero goddess every time. And half the time, I imagine myself as a superhero goddess with shapely, slim thighs and a firm, pert bum.

In reality I DO have shapely thighs – the lumps and bumps on the back account for lots of different shapes that make Spanx my best friend. A firm pert bun? Keep dreaming.

Why is this flank steak so awesome? It doesn’t require a long marinade, it’s super lean, it’s fast and easy and it’s all about the texture. The texture!! I’m such a texture person that I border on creepy.

Really. I walk through stores touching things. I walk through people’s homes and touch things. I see friends and shortly after hugging them hello, I’m fussing over their hair and touching this necklace and tugging at that bracelet.

Told you I was creepy.

And you may think that using coffee grounds on a steak is creepy. Pish posh. It’s the perfect way to deepen this steak’s flavor without adding lots of extra calories. It creates a crust that is p-p-perfect. And hopefully I’ll have a butt one day that is close to p-p-perfect.

Until then, I’ll keep making this steak and serving it to Mr. Hausfrau, like we’re characters on Groundhog Day.

Just make sure to watch out for that first step – it’s a DOOOOOOZY.

Coffee Rubbed Flank Steak

1 Flank Steak
1 heaping tablespoon coffee grounds
1 heaping tablespoon steak seasoning
1 tablespoon brown sugar

Combine the coffee grounds, steak seasoning and brown sugar in a small bowl. Rub the mixture evenly all over the flank steak and allow the steak to sit 30-60 minutes at room temperature.

Cook the steak over a hot grill or under a hot broiler for approximately 7 minutes per side for a medium done steak. Remove the steak from the heat and allow it to rest 10 minutes before slicing thinly across the grain.

Anyway, my pleading was cut short by a tray of meatballs that appeared on the table, just beyond his left elbow.  So I approached him, all seductively slinky and lithe. And hungry.

Me:  Would you mind if I could get a taste of those meatballs?

Mr. HausFrau:  Balls?  You mean the chopped liver?  You gotta taste this – it’s the best I’ve ever had.

He then proceeds to shove a cracker full of the disgusting stuff under my nose.

Me:  Ugh, not that crap!  The balls!  The meatballs next to you!

Mr Hausfrau:  My balls?  Sure you can taste my balls.

Needless to say, I made a mental note to take another Prozac  shoved him out of the way, and he saw what I was bee-lining for.  Those adorable little meatballs, all precocious and glazed in a chunky tomato sauce.  I tasted one – they were just a little sweet and just a little tangy, nothing at all like the hackneyed combination of grape jelly and cocktail sauce you usually see.  I wanted to cuddle these little meatballs and tell them a witty bedtime story.  I ate them instead.

I hunted down the gal who brought those little meatballs and demanded pleaded asked for the recipe. She was one of those “I never measure” types, but one thing she was pretty insistent about was the use of sour salt.   After several trips to several grocery stores, I am pretty insistent on the fact that A) such a product doesn’t exist, and B) she smokes crack.   

But my own stab at them ain’t too shabby, if I do say so myself.  I opted for a prepared tomato sauce doctored up with lemon juice, malt vinegar, and honey.  The whole dish comes together easily and fast enough that you can bring them to a potluck or you can hoard them all to yourself and enjoy them while watching the football game.

Better yet, screw the game.  Go shoe shopping instead and work up an appetite.

Just don’t wait to get these balls into your mouth. 

Tangy and Sweet Meatballs

1 lb. ground beef

1/2 teaspoon onion powder

1/8 teaspoon garlic powder

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 egg, beaten

1 jar of your favorite tomato sauce

1 lemon, juiced

3 tablespoons malt vinegar

2 tablespoons tomato paste

1 tablespoon honey

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.

For the meatballs:

In a medium bowl, combine the ground beef, onion powder, garlic powder, salt and egg until no streaks of egg remain.

Shape the meat mixture into golf-ball sized balls and place them 1 inch apart on a greased or foil-lined baking sheet.

Bake the meatballs for 15 minutes.

For the sauce:

In a large dutch oven, combine the tomato sauce, lemon juice, vinegar, tomato paste and honey over medium heat.  Bring the mixture just short of a boil and reduce the heat to low. Simmer, covered, for 10 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Once the meatballs have finished baking in the oven, carefully place them into the sauce and simmer the meatballs an additional 15 minutes.  Serve immediately.