Savoy cabbage meets Gnafron and Punch

A few posts ago, we were observing  how some vegetables (such as turnips) that are sturdy, inexpensive, and nutritious, are sometimes ironically disparaged just because as one might put it, they don't play hard to grow.  Another obvious example is the homely cabbage — a vegetable so unsought after that, like the turnip, it is not even listed as a search term on the vendor/product search on the Davis Farmers Market website.  At best, they might come under the "winter vegetables" category.  Who, this suggests, is desperately seeking cabbage?  Who cares when cabbage season begins?  Who mourns when it ends?  Yet last week at the market we noticed that one vendor was announcing that this was the last week cabbage would be available.  So these hearty workhorses are actually as seasonal as berries. 

Dazzled by the color and pattern of the Savoy cabbages at Fiddler’s Green of late, we decided to make a favorite dish showcasing this cabbage.  The dish is gnafron, a dish we learned about from Peggy Knickerbocker’s fabulous cookbook, Simple Soirees.   

Why this dish, a sort of savory flan, should have this name is something of a mystery.  Gnafron is the name of a puppet created by the 19th-century French puppeteer Laurent Mourguet, who began doing shows with the puppet character Polichinelle — the same puppet who in English was called Punchinello and who eventually became Mr. Punch of the Punch and Judy show.  Mourguet eventually began inventing new characters based on contemporary working-class types in his hometown of Lyons.  His first was Gnafron, usually described as a cobbler who is very fond of wine.  Mourguet went on to create a character named Guignol, who became the most famous of all French puppet characters, and whose name is now a virtual synonym for "puppet" in the French language.   

Knickerbocker herself tells the story of having this dish at a restaurant in Lyon, and of how she laboriously tracked down the recipe.One can only speculate that somehow this hedonistic mixture of sausage, cabbage and custard suggested to some Lyonnaise chef the kind of dish that would leave anyone who was served it (as we might say in English) as pleased as Punch. 

The recipe calls for Napa cabbage, but we liked it even better with the greener, thicker leaves of the Savoy. 

Peggy Knickerbocker’s GNAFRON 

2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

2 tablespoons unsalted butter

1-2 carrots, diced

1/2 pound andouille sausage or other flavorful, fully cooked, spicy sausage, finely chopped (be sure to skin the sausage to make the custards as delicate as possible)

1 medium onion, minced

2 teaspoons fresh thyme leaves

1 bay leaf

Salt and freshly ground black pepper

Splash of white wine

1 Napa or Savoy cabbage, separated, tough parts of the ribs removed (16 to 20 leaves)

2 tablespoons unsalted butter for greasing the ramekins

4 large eggs

1/4 cup heavy cream

For the Garlic Cream:

3 cloves garlic

Pinch of sugar

Pinch of salt

Splash of white wine

1/2 cup heavy cream

In a heavy saucepan, melt the butter in the olive oil. Add the carrot, sausage, onion, thyme, and bay leaf. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Saute slowly for 15 minutes. When the mixture becomes slightly dry, add the wine and stir well.

When the sausage mixture has become soft and aromatic, at least another 5 to 10 minutes (but don't rush this stage), remove the pan from the heat and allow the mixture to cool for about 10 minutes.  You want it cool so it won't curdle your eggs.

Meanwhile, in a large skillet, bring 4 cups of salted water to a simmer over high heat. Blanch the cabbage leaves, a few at a time. Remove with tongs and allow them to drain on clean kitchen towels.

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.

 

Grease 6 small ramekins or souffle dishes with butter. (We use 4 larger--that is, 6 oz.--ramekins.) Line the dishes with the cabbage leaves, allowing them to overlap so that when the sausage mixture is spooned onto them, they can be folded over to make a little package.

In a medium-sized bowl, beat the eggs with the cream, and salt and pepper to taste. Stir the sausage mixture into the egg mixture and mix well. Divide the mixture among the lined ramekins and fold the overlapping leaves over the top. Knickerbocker advises you not to worry if the mixture leaks out around the leaves. We would advise you not to worry at all.  This is a pretty forgiving recipe.

Place the ramekins in a deep roasting pan large enough to hold them all. Pour warm water around them so that it comes 3/4 of the way up the sides. Place the pan in the oven and bake for about 45 minutes, or until the Gnafron has set and the top is firm to the touch. Knickerbocker suggests an hour but we've never had it take that long.  If the tops begin to brown or get too dark, place a sheet of foil over the tops. It’s okay if the tops get golden brown.

While the Gnafron bakes, make the garlic cream. In a small heavy pot, combine the garlic, sugar, salt and a splash of water; cook over medium-low heat for about 2 minutes. Add a splash of white wine, and allow it to cook down for 3 to 5 minutes. Reduce the heat to low, add the cream, and warm it for about 3 minutes. Turn the heat off and allow the garlic to steep in the cream until the Gnafron comes out of the oven. Reheat the garlic cream over low heat; it will be slightly thin. Remove and discard the garlic.

To serve, run a knife around the sides of the ramekins to loosen the mixture. Turn out onto plates. Serve with a little garlic cream drizzled over and around each custard.

We served these with some of the baby leeks we also got at Fiddler’s Green, seared over high heat.  They were wonderful.  We have also made these in advance for a dinner party and then warmed them before serving.  That worked well, although they had an especially luscious texture fresh from their bath.  Fiddler's Green Savoy cabbage produces an even prettier and tastier Gnafron than we've ever made with Napa cabbage. 

As Punch might say, “ain’t she a beauty?”