What I ate today—or how boring is that?

Sauerkraut skillet supper tasted a lot better than it looked.
Besides, I forgot the picture until I'd eaten half the sausage.
But it's here for the algorithms

Sometimes I feel, especially on dull days of which there are a lot, that this blog deteriorates into “and then I did this …. And then I did that … and then I ate that.” Especially the “what I ate” part because so much of my focus seems to be on food. But tonight I have to say I nailed it with a dish that I cooked off the top of my head, with suggestions from an anonymous friend who apparently wrote me a note about it.

When I was a child, my mom made a skillet supper of ground sausage and apples. I remember liking it a lot. But when I tried to duplicate it recently, it didn’t work. The dish had no cohesion, nothing held it together. It was just two separate things cooked in the same skillet. Along the same line, my brother’s ex-wife used to caramelize sauerkraut—I can see her yet with a sugar bowl in her hand, patiently shaking a bit at a time into the skillet, while turning the kraut endlessly—it was wonderful to us, two kids whose German mother despised sauerkraut and never ever served it. I didn’t taste it until I was grown and out of the house. But we could never duplicate what John’s ex did.

Recently I came across a recipe for a sausage, apple, and sauerkraut skillet supper. I must have mentioned it to someone because I have some notes about how someone else did it. Meantime, Mary V. who comes for supper occasionally and is a willing subject for my experiments—she told Jordan tonight that she really enjoys dinners of all the things my kids won’t eat—was scheduled for supper. I wrote and asked if she eats sauerkraut (sometimes it is best to ask these things ahead of time rather than have an unpleasant surprise). She wrote back that she loves sauerkraut. But then weather interfered—the night she was to come was one of those when it got down to ten degrees, and she didn’t want to venture out. I was left with a lb. container (a plastic tub, not a glass jar) of kraut in the fridge, and four lovely plump veal and pork sausages in the freezer.

Our schedules didn’t mesh, and tonight, almost three weeks later, we had the skillet supper. Here’s what I did: I browned two sausages in plenty of butter in the skillet and then added thinly sliced onion, peeled apple slices (I think they were McIntosh), and several forkfuls of drained (but not squeezed) sauerkraut. I poured white wine over all and stirred in about two Tbsp. dark browns sugar. I started to simmer this with the lid on but realized all that liquid needed to cook off if things were to caramelize, so I set the lid aside. And that’s exactly what happened—after about half an hour on a 220^o burner (knowing the temperature is an advantage of an induction hot plate), the liquid was gone and the kraut, apples, and onions nicely caramelized. I turned it off, put the lid on, and let it sit.

Mary arrived, Jordan came out to drink a glass of wine, and we visited. Finally I turned the burner on for about ten minutes and served supper. (Jordan left at this point lest the kraut jumped out of the pan at her.) The caramelized things were terrific, the sausage mild and good with a bit of Dijon. I think maybe Mary liked it better than any supper I’ve given her, and I liked it a lot myself. When I was heaping apples and onions and kraut into the skillet, I thought I was making enough for Coxie’s Army and would have leftovers no one wanted, but they do cook down dramatically, and between the two of us we ate it all. So that’s what I ate.

A word about gratitude—and groceries. Every week I place a fairly lengthy order to be delivered from Central Market (you have no idea how I long to be able to shop there in person). This Saturday, as I was unpacking five paper sacks and thinking what a boring, exasperating chore it was, I suddenly realized how many people in this world would feel so blessed to have so many groceries. My attitude changed immediately. And so tonight, I am grateful for the good food we ate, the company of friends with whom I often dine, and the comfort of my cottage.

May you all enjoy good meals and the bounty of God’s blessings.