Fried Cabbage and My Gram

Growing up, I was surrounded by amazingly strong women. They were proper ladies with good manners when the occasion called for it, but behind closed doors they let their hair down and became wild and crazy chicks who knew how to throw a party. They are also some of the best damn cooks on the face of the planet.

One of these women was my Gram, Ruth Darlene. Gram never went into town unless she got "cleaned up." She was a card shark, too. She'd play me at Jubal, wouldn't even let me win, and without repentance took all of my money. Her laugh was big, deep, and contagious and she could belch loud enough to be heard in about five surrounding counties. I tried to belch like her once and about tossed up my cookies.

This is Gram (seated in the black dress) with her five sisters: Melba, Patsy, Isabelle, Shirley, and Alma. Only Aunt Isabelle and Aunt Melba are still with us. (I forgot to mention Uncle Tommy - the youngest boy - in my original post. Sorry, Uncle Tommy! I think he's about the same age as my Momma, so he very well may not have been born yet when this picture was taken. With seven children, their children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, cousins, and so forth...well, you can imagine how loud it is at our family reunions! It's a good kind of loud, though.)

My Gram was one of the smartest women I knew. When my Mom and Dad would drop us kids off to spend the weekend at Gram and Pop's, Gram would stand at her picture window in the kitchen to make sure my parents were good and gone, then she'd make three peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and fill three small jelly jars half full of beer. We kids thought we were something else eating those sandwiches and drinking that beer! Then, we'd all take a nap. Yep, that Gram was one smart lady!

This is me sitting on Gram's couch back in the day with Pee-Podie. My mother presented me with this pillow, made by a cousin of mine and said "Pretty pillow." Somehow, I got "Pee-Podie" out of that. Pee-Podie is buried somewhere on the side of the road between Caney, Kansas and Bartlesville, Oklahoma. I got car sick and Pee-Podie took a direct hit. Momma said it had to go.

Gram had a copper canister of bacon drippings sitting on her stove at all times. Nearly every recipe of Gram's started with one spoonful of bacon drippings in one of her well-seasoned cast-iron skillets. It just made everything taste better.

Gram taught me how to make Fried Cabbage. Usually, that fried cabbage went with beans and cornbread and it was so good I can still remember how wonderful it tasted.

Gram would be appalled to know that I don't keep my bacon drippings in a canister on my stove. That's wasteful, she'd say. She would really hate the center-cut bacon I use, too. It doesn't render nearly enough drippings.

Every once in a while, I get a hankering for Fried Cabbage, so I make some. You can, too. It's as easy as pie...

Start out with four slices of bacon (center-cut) or 1 tablespoon of bacon drippings (if you're old-school like my Gram and you've got some hanging out on your stove). Cook the bacon until it's almost crisp. Then, remove the bacon from the pan. Pour off all but one tablespoon of drippings. Again, if you've got the can and you want to save the drippings, pour them into your collection.

Next, core a head of cabbage, slice it in half, and chop it into slivers. You can use a half to a full head of cabbage...whatever amount will feed your family. Next, dice an onion - one whole small onion or half of a medium or large onion.

Add the cabbage and onion to the pan with the bacon drippings. Cook the cabbage and onion until they are nicely wilted and a little brown. Be careful not to burn it! It should look something like this...

Now, salt and pepper it generously and add that crumbled cooked bacon back in. Gram's version didn't have bacon in it, but I like bacon quite a lot, and since it's a terrible waste to throw it away (and Gram never wasted anything if she could avoid it), I throw it in.

Enjoy Gram's Fried Cabbage. With or without a pot of beans and cornbread!