This isn’t even my recipe. It’s from The New York Cookbook by Molly O’Neill. That book has about a million recipes in it. I have no idea how I found this one. But I did. About 300 years ago. And I’ve been making it ever since. You’d think I would have it memorized by now. I almost do. But somehow I’m never 100 percent sure. The quantities are close. 1 cup vs 3/4 cup. Which is which? So I’m writing it down. So I can always find it. Seriously. This one is for me. I’m not joking… But you can make it too. I hope you do. It’s definitely worth making. I think anyway. I wasn’t planning to post this. The notion just popped into my head as I was making it. I’m not even at home. Grabbed the pics with my phone. I promise I’ll try harder next time…
Coleslaw with a tangy bite
I love this coleslaw. Because it is the perfect counterpoint to big barbecue. I serve it with ribs. With brisket. Pulled pork. Anything fatty. If it doesn’t fly. Or swim. Then this is the one. It works because it’s not creamy. It’s a little tart. And a little sweet. Has just the right amount of crunch. Creamy coleslaws have their place. Creamy coleslaw is great with grilled chicken. Or turkey. A hamburger even. Kind of somewhere between salad and potato salad. But for pork and brisket and beef ribs I always, always, always turn to this one.
There are no secret ingredients in this slaw
This slaw is about cabbage. And Spanish onion. There’s a little green pepper. For a hint of flavour. And some carrot for colour. I do swap in jalapeños for green peppers. Adds a nice bite. That’s my only twist on the original. Nothing too unusual about the dressing either. A bit low brow. But it works. Somehow. Candidate for Ripley’s museum maybe? Vinegar. Nasty white vinegar. The stuff you use to clean with. I’ve finally found a second use for it. Pickling. That’s a given. And this killer coleslaw. Sugar. Plain white sugar. Refined sugar. Just sweet. Nothing fancy here. Oil. Vegetable oil. Or canola. A neutral oil. The less flavour the better. Not olive oil. Absolutely not olive oil. That would suck. A lot. Salt and mustard powder round out the list. Super simple. Crazy delicious. Not sure exactly why it works. But it does.
Hot dressing hits cool cabbage and magic happens
What makes this one a little different is how the ingredients come together. Cabbage. Onion. Green pepper. Carrot. That’s every coleslaw ever. The gee whiz here is the dressing. A hot dressing. Boiling hot in fact. Sounds crazy. But that little bit of insanity is what makes this coleslaw great. Hot dressing wilts cabbage. A bit. Softens everything. Just enough. Pour it on and stir. Really stir. Toss it into the fridge and wait. 4 hours is good. Overnight is better. And somehow, inexplicably, everything just comes together nicely. The whole is greater than the sum of the parts. Cliche. But true. You won’t believe. Until you try it for yourself. And then you will be converted. I don’t know when I became a coleslaw evangelist. But it seems it happened. When I wasn’t looking.
It’s healthier than you think
There’s a lot of sugar in this recipe. And a lot of oil. Might seem alarming at first. But it’s necessary. Part of the technique. But it isn’t part of what you actually eat. The key to this coleslaw is moving the cabbage mixture through the hot dressing. To get the wilting action. So you need enough hot dressing. It won’t work otherwise. Most of that dressing is going to wind up in the bottom of the bowl. You’ll see. It’s not going in anyone’s mouth. It’s a bit wasteful I suppose. But it’s also way less calories than the nutritional calculator spits out. Unless you drink the dressing I guess. You do you though. It’s a free culinary universe. FWIW – I don’t drink it.
This is my one true coleslaw
I am always experimenting. Can’t help myself. Tinkering. Trying new things. That’s who I am. I can never leave well enough alone. There’s always something I want to change. Evolve. Refresh. Renew. Or even just throw everything I think I know out the window. And try something completely different. Which is why this coleslaw is special to me. I don’t mess with it. I just make it. Over. And over. And over. I know I’m in a rut. There’s no doubt about it. But the wonderful thing is I just don’t care. Because it’s part of who I am. This one stays forever.
