Serves 6 to 8 | Prep Time: 25 minutes | Cook Time: 2 hours 30 minutes | Total Time: 2 hours 55 minutes
I’ve made versions of these crispy, delicate little fried cabbage pancakes at restaurants and in my very own home, where they are a breakfast staple. I’ve often watched my mom bulk them up with canned salmon and loads of the week’s forgotten vegetables. We’d eat them over bowls of hot grits or rice. To me, they are reminiscent of okonomiyaki (loosely translated as “grilled as you like it”), a popular savory pancake from southern Japan. I like to drizzle Spicy Sorghum-Miso Mustard (page 110) over them.
These Japanese burgers, known as hamba¯gu in Japanese, are such a comforting, nostalgic meal for me. My mother would make them with a red wine and ketchup sauce that was especially delicious, as it soaked into the short-grain rice. Because my kitchen has no ventilation—it’s awkwardly placed in the middle of the apartment, the farthest point from all the windows—I particularly appreciate making patties in the oven on a sheet pan. I can make a big quantity (ten!) without setting off the fire alarm. The ketchup sauce is the best part and gets made right on the hot sheet pan as you scrape up bits and pieces and mix everything together. If you’re not in the mood for cabbage, you can also serve the burgers and rice with a different vegetable, such as blanched broccoli, our Simplest Arugula Salad (page 274), or even some sliced cucumbers sprinkled with a little salt and vinegar.
My mother, Larisa, was born in Odessa, Ukraine, and has made borsch all her life. ’This is the hot winter version: vegetarian and super-quick to prepare but also hearty and filling, with a lovely sweet-sour flavor and gorgeous red beet color. It’s served garnished with fresh herbs and a dollop of sour cream.
The chefs at my culinary school in Guangzhou would often whip up this homestyle dish for our family lunches. Tossed on the stinging-hot sides of a wok, cabbage leaves wilt quickly and caramelize on the edges; this recipe makes them aromatic with dried red chiles and Sichuan peppercorns, and laces them in a savory, vinegar-tinged sauce. Use your wok or skillet over the highest flame, and you should still get a nice seared-in juiciness and aroma without an industrial burner. If you’re doubling the recipe, stir-fry it in two batches to avoid overcrowding the wok, which would steam rather than sear the cabbage. When prepping the cabbage, tear the leaves with your hands instead of using a knife for maximum raggedy edges—Chinese cooks swear it tastes better this way. The best cabbage for stir-frying is the flat-headed, looser Taiwanese cabbage, which has sweeter and more tender leaves.
I know it looks a bit strange to see the cabbage so charred and black, but trust me – it’s absolutely delicious. It’s one of those things I discovered and wished I’d found sooner! To get an even charring of the cabbage, press the wedges firmly into the pan so that the surface makes complete contact with the heat.