Haluski (Cabbage & Noodles)

Compared to its Brassica cousins like broccoli, cauliflower and Brussels sprouts, cabbage is certainly neither the sexiest nor the most popular of the bunch. In fact, unless we’re talking about coleslaw, cabbage is rarely the star of the show in American cuisine.

If we look at Eastern Europe, though, it’s an entirely different story. Growing up in Ukraine, cabbage was a staple, appearing near-daily in borscht and golubtsy (stuffed cabbage rolls), as well as braised, pickled and stuffed into all manner of dumplings. You name it, cabbage was there. Apart from potatoes, it’s the keystone vegetable of Ukrainian cooking.

When I started sharing meals with my husband’s Polish family, I discovered even more cabbage-centric dishes from our part of the world, like bigos (sauerkraut and kielbasa stew, aka hunter’s stew) and haluski.

Pronounced “ha-LOOSH-kee,” this dish consists of buttery egg noodles with caramelized cabbage and onions, seasoned with lots of black pepper. It may have just four ingredients (apart from salt and pepper, that is), but it is way more satisfying than the sum of its humble parts. You may even be tempted to add more ingredients to this minimal combo, but trust me, it is great the way it is.

Although it’s widely regarded as Polish, haluski’s history is actually quite murky. There are different narratives pinning it to Hungarian, Slovakian, Czech and Polish cultures. Other sources say it was created by Eastern European immigrants once they were already in the U.S.

In some parts of Eastern Europe, the word “haluski” actually refers to plump, irregularly shaped homemade dumplings composed of wheat flour and eggs (similar to German spaetzle), not this dish with store-bought egg noodles. My theory is that in the motherland, people may, in fact, have been making these dumplings from scratch. Then when they arrived in America and had easier access to ready-made dried noodles, they may have simply adapted the recipe.

Seeing as every family's traditions are slightly different anyway, I'm personally not as concerned with the authenticity of what we call haluski today as I am with its overall appeal. Like I said, it calls for less than a handful of ingredients, many of which you might have on hand, and what you end up with is the epitome of cozy comfort food. Slippery egg noodles mingling with sweet cabbage and onions, enveloped in the creamy richness of butter and punctuated with the mild heat of black pepper.

The secret to great haluski is how you cook the cabbage and onions, which is done in two steps. First, you keep the skillet covered to trap the steam and soften the vegetables. Then you remove the lid and continue to cook the vegetables until golden.

What you ultimately want is cabbage that is soft and silky with a tiny bite remaining in the center, as well as some caramelization around the edges. What you don't want is cabbage with no color at all, since color equals flavor. You also want to avoid over-caramelizing the vegetables, as the flavor will overpower the noodles.

I highly recommend keeping a head of cabbage in your crisper drawer so you can incorporate haluski seamlessly into your dinner repertoire like I do.