Hot damn, that title’s a mouthful. But what do you do with this one? There’s no meat to be seen and it’s not on a skewer. But it is a big old heap of brassica that really packs that savoury Levantine punch. Saying “shawarma spiced” would be a world of seasonal latte bullshit, so here we are.
It’s a roasted cabbage, it’s a bit like shawarma, and it’s worth your time.
My affection for leafy greens is a matter of some record, so claiming you can make passable kebabs with cabbage (cabbabs?) is well within the understood scope of my nonsense. But I am not shitting you here. It’s got the big earthy savoury to carry the spice, and retains a bit of crunch and body.
Having failed to blog yesterday’s shawarma properly, here’s a quick note on what I did with the leftover ingredients.
(I fried them, basically.)
The shawarma was made with slow roast lamb shoulder in a heavy-duty spice mix with plenty of coriander and lemon juice. The cabbage was leftover form the pita stuffing. Because the lamb needed to be kept moist and occasionally have water added, it left plenty of run-off juices and fat. Ordinarily, I’d have made a sauce out of this, but it didn’t fit with the kebab vibe, so it went into the fridge.
I’m glad – poured over fried cabbage and reduced it was amazing. What follows is a bare-bones recipe without the rich, spicy meat juices. It’s essentially an excuse to toast pitas full of harissa and tomato paste, and it ought to more or less work.
Cabbage is great. Not your soggy schooldays slop, mind – wilted to hell and smelling of damp flatulence and disappointment. No, We’re talking fresh, crisp, savoury cabbage, cooked with a bit of respect for texture rather than a thinly-repressed loathing for children.
Ok, so there’s sauerkraut – that’s soggy and awesome, but the point stands. Cabbage rocks. It is particularly good when shredded fine and cooked in the run-off fat and juices of a joint of ham.
Yesterday, I had a powerful craving for the stuff, and decided to just throw some together with other flavours I liked.