Antipasto with cabbage crepes

I woke up this morning feeling antsy but at loose ends. While S. slept in, I tried to think of what on earth I wanted to do with the day, to no avail. I didn't hold out much hope that S. would be able to help, but oh! me of little faith. When he woke up, he proved to be a font of ideas.

First we ran some errands and had a splendid lunch at the Bethesda Jaleo; then we went out to Glen Echo Park, which is an old, no longer operational amusement park where they have a still-operational nice restored carousel a la Tilden and amazing vending machines that vend ice cream treats -- I had a nice classic ice cream sandwich -- and a lovely creek in which we waded. There's something that looks a lot like an English pub of the country variety nearby, too, though we didn't go in this time.

I wanted to extend the good feeling of the day into the evening, and succeeded pretty well, I think.

First I made up batches of:

- eggplant agrodulce
- garlicky bean puree
- pan-fried olives with lemon
- a plate of fresh mozzarella with olive oil, salt, and pepper

Then I improvised a slew of thin, flexible little (3 inch, maybe) golden pancakes with cabbage and chickpea flour, which served as the base for everything else. We (well, I) consumed it all with Yuengling black and tan, and were filled with a sense of splendid well-being. I do love it when I manage to make a dinner that is completely satisfying without making me feel over-stuffed. This was a definite success in that department.

I think I'll be making the pancakes again often in the future, as they really do make an impressively flavorful but neutral accompaniment to things, while also being good for S.'s dietary needs in a way that most foods that traditionally fulfill that role do not. I'll write them up in more detail in the future (especially when I can do photos again), but for now, let me remind myself of the basics:

About 1/4 large cabbage, shredded very very fine (in food processor)
2 T. buttermilk powder
3-4 eggs
2 T. chickpea flour
1 c. water
salt
pepper

Mix up the batter and let it sit a bit, so the salt and wetness make the cabbage wilt. The proportion of cabbage to everything else will be very high. The idea is to have the cabbage dripping with the batter as you put it in the pan -- not a spoonful of batter containing cabbage, but cabbage with a thinnish batter clinging to it. You pinch it out of the bowl with your clean hands, drop it in little piles on the griddle and then flatten it out, slowly and carefully, with the back of your ladle. If holes appear, a bit of the extra liquid from the bottom of the bowl may be drizzled in.

Cool on racks, so they don't get soggy. Very good at room temperature, or they heat up well in the toaster oven. I haven't experimented with how they behave when refrigerated, but I imagine it works pretty well. We'll see eventually -- there weren't any leftovers to test it out on this time around.

Posted by redfox at May 08, 2004 09:31 PM (dinner reports) | Comments (2)

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