This recipe is really just an idea, and not even an original one at that.
Take sweet and smoky beef or pork barbecue, put it on a sandwich or corn tortilla, and top with a bright, vinegary coleslaw.
The best thing about unoriginal ideas, though, is that they get changed up by convenience and by my CSA. I had purple kohlrabi in the fridge and something had to be done with it. I was inspired to make a more Fritz-friendly meal (read: including meat, served in something you can hold) by a super-delicious sandwich–the Carolina–from a Rochester food truck named Marty’s Meats.
(OMG THAT LAST SENTENCE. Sorry, Taylor, Mom, and all other editors who cringe when they read my blog).
I have spoken about my strong distaste for mayonnaise in previous posts (see this European Potato Salad post), so I knew that the coleslaw would have to just have vinegar in it, and absolutely no mayonnaise. A little bit of foodgawkering later, and I had a recipe.
(Note: this recipe is just for the coleslaw. For the beef barbecue, I tossed a bunch of random ingredients into the CrockPot without measuring. I went with an Asian influence and used beef, rice wine vinegar, ginger, and 23598234 other ingredients. Here’s a similarly inspired recipe (or follow the link below) if you need actual instructions and not just my wine-fueled ramblings).
(Just kidding about the wine-fueled part. It’s Wednesday, for goodness’ sake).
(OMG THE PARENTHESES TODAY).
Kohlrabi and Cabbage Coleslaw (No Mayo) Adapted from Cheese and Chocolate
- 2 small-to-medium kohlrabi, peeled and sliced into matchsticks
- 3 C cabbage, shredded (shredding tutorial in this post)
- 1/2 C thinly sliced red onion
- 5 T rice wine vinegar
- 1 1/2 T sugar
- 1/2 t salt
- 1/4-1/2 t red pepper flakes (start slowly here!).
Sadly, kohlrabi is a lot less pretty when is it peeled. Usually kohlrabi is green (and looks just like the little aliens from Toy Story), but our farmer happened to see purple kohlrabi in a seed catalog and wanted to try it. Tasted just like the way green kohlrabi did, if I remember correctly.
Combine all the ingredients and let sit in the fridge in a covered bowl for at least 30 minutes before serving, tossing several times so that the vinegar coats everything.
Serve only on top of some seriously decadent barbecue.
The acidic and tangy crunch of cabbage was exactly what the sweet barbecue beef needed, and I loved having an afterburn from the red pepper flakes (I measured them generously).
And no, I didn’t miss the mayonnaise at all.
I preferred this sandwich on a corn tortilla quickly heated up in a dry pan; Fritz is a firm believer in soft sandwich rolls. To each his own, man. (Plus, two small corn tortillas has fewer calories than a giant sandwich bun, plus plus my brain always prefers to eat “two” over “one”).
Grammar people–I’m sorry about this post. I blame Wednesday. To make you feel better, I would like to ask you a question that I have been pondering in my real-life context lately. Less vs. Fewer. Which one is right, when, and why? Is one sometimes wrong? The last lingering wisps of English: Don’t Bastardize the Language that Mr. Scotty instilled in me have been weakly suggesting to me that those terms are not as interchangeable as they first feel.
For funzies, here’s some pictures from our camping trip this weekend (I’ll try to post some different ones from my Instagram dump).