The Big Question: Is Slovenian Cooking Healthy?

Is Slovenian cooking healthy?

That was the big question I faced, at the beginning of the new year.  As usual, I had a few holiday pounds to lose.  Beyond that, I wondered: How much of my newfound taste for Slovenian food could I incorporate into our regular diet during the coming year?

I had already started to think (and write) about this question in the fall.

Back in November, I argued that traditional Slovenian cooking was much like other cuisines that develop in times of scarcity, when people did hard physical work. They used what was at hand and were limited to whatever was in season—or whatever they had managed to preserve.

I conceded that many elements of traditional Slovenian cooking present a challenge to the contemporary health conscious cook. The cooking is heavy on meat, especially pork. Fats are not what you could consider heart healthy: lard, cracklings, bacon fat, and butter.  And many of the favorite treats are based on white flour.  I had made them all: potica and strudel, homemade noodles and dumplings, struklji and zlikrofi.  But I had also started to do healthy makeovers.

Now, six months later, I would add a few other arguments in defense of Slovenian food.

First, whose culinary traditions are we talking about? European peasant farmers in the 19th century? The upper classes?  The Slovenian Americans who wrote my 1950s cookbooks?  Contemporary Slovenians?  Eating patterns varied and they evolved over time.

my mother's family, Cleveland, 1930s

Slovenia,1890s

American cookbook, 1950s 

In reality, the diet of peasant farmers was healthier than you might suppose. It revolved around whole grains and legumes: Buckwheat, millet, cornmeal, and barley.  Dried beans and lentils.  The daily bread meant whole grain, not refined white flour.  Meat was eaten sparingly, by today's standards. Fresh vegetables and fruits were highly prized. Slovenians never forgot their rural roots, in Europe or in the United States.  Even in big American cities, families kept gardens.  In the past, it was all Slow Food.  Local, natural, and unprocessed.

Another important point: Ethnic specialties were just that: Special dishes. Delicacies. Served on holidays, special occasions, and to guests.  Not daily fare.

Heavy on carbohydrates, by today's standards?  Yes.  But not inherently unhealthy.

In fact, the traditional Slovenian diet of the past was probably healthier than many other European cuisines. Consider British food. The typical Slovenian of today probably has a healthier diet than the average American, if obesity rates are any indication.

I already knew that healthy makeovers were possible. From the beginning, I had substituted olive oil for other fats and had cut down on quantities.  As the year progressed, I began to use turkey instead of red meat.  I tried low carb experiments, like cauliflower instead of rice, in stuffed cabbage, or a turkey-kasha filling in stuffed peppers.  More than half of my November and December dinners were healthy re-makes of dishes I had tried earlier in the year.

stuffed cabbage with beef-cauliflower  filling

stuffed peppers with turkey-kasha filling

Finally, many of the core ingredients and unique flavors in Slovenian cooking are quite healthy. Cabbage. Coleslaw and sauerkraut. Dandelion greens.  Green salads with light, tart dressings. Buckwheat. Pumpkin seed oil.  And seasonings like paprika, cinnamon, and marjoram are calorie-free.

My conclusion:  Slovenian cooking could be part of a healthy diet, with some modifications.

The only personal challenge I faced was limiting the carbohydrates, if I wanted to keep my weight down.  But that just meant sticking to the healthier ones: Vegetables, beans and legumes, with modest portions of whole grains. It wasn't a terrible hardship to limit breads, dumplings, noodles, and potica to special occasions.

My husband isn't as weight-challenged as I am, but he does need to watch his cholesterol and his blood pressure. Although he was a great supporter of my Slovenian cooking adventure, he did occasionally remind me that we had eaten more meat, especially pork, in the past year than in the previous decade!

So I figured we would go back to poultry as our mainstay, including all those locally-made chicken and turkey sausages we previously enjoyed.  Pork, beef, and lamb would be an occasional treat.

I thought I had covered all the bases.  But I forgot about one.

Salt.

A new chapter was about to begin.

Slovenian Dinner Week 47: Stuffed Cabbage Low Carb Makeover: Beef-Cauliflower Filling

Menu
Stuffed Cabbage Makeover: Beef-Cauliflower Filling
Green Salad

Stuffed cabbage was the first dish I tackled, back in January of 2012, when I launched my year of Slovenian cooking.  I was happy with the result. The next time, I planned to make the filling more highly seasoned—and to cook the cabbage rolls on a bed of sauerkraut.

Suddenly, it was December. My year of ethnic cooking was in the home stretch, and I still hadn’t gotten around to trying stuffed cabbage again.  But now I had another agenda:  how to do healthy makeovers.

For a healthy version of stuffed cabbage, I figured on skipping the pork and using just beef. But what to do about the added starch in the filling?  I could substitute buckwheat for the rice, as I’d done with my stuffed peppers makeover. But this time I wanted to go even lower carb.

So I did an Internet search and discovered a fascinating alternative to rice: finely diced cauliflower.  I found plenty of examples, including two or three recipes for meat fillings with cauliflower instead of the usual rice or bread crumbs.  What an intriguing idea! I already knew that pureed cauliflower worked well as a mashed potato substitute, but I'd never come across the idea of using it in place of rice.

The recipes I found used used raw cauliflower, chopped or grated, in the meat filling.  I figured I would go one better.  I would brown the cauliflower bits with the onions and garlic, to reduce some of the moisture and make it harder and more rice-like.

I made a few other changes in my original stuffed cabbage recipe. To make the filling spicier,  I increased the onion, garlic, salt, pepper, and paprika.   I decided to skip the fresh mint and the spoonful of crushed tomatoes. As planned, I used sauerkraut instead of cabbage to line the pan.   Finally, I decided to make the dish in the oven instead of on top of  the stove.

For the result, read on.

Stuffed Cabbage Makeover with Beef-Cauliflower Filling

1 c. onion, chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 T. olive oil
1 c. cauliflower florets, finely chopped
2 t. salt
1 t. pepper
1-1/2 t. paprika
1/2 c. fresh parsley, chopped

1-1/2 lb.ground beef
1 egg, beaten

1 large head green cabbage
sauerkraut

beef broth and crushed tomatoes, mixed, to make about 3 cups of liquid
salt and pepper to taste

For filling:  Brown onion and garlic in oil.  Add cauliflower florets and brown, then add seasonings, parsley and mix.  Let cool.  Mix in beef and egg.

For cabbage: Cut out core of cabbage.  Cover in hot water and boil for about 5 minutes.  Drain and separate leaves.

To make the rolls:  Cut out the tough rib of each cabbage leaf.  Place a portion of meat on the leaf.  Roll up securely, envelope style.  Secure with toothpicks.

Put a layer of sauerkraut in the bottom of large greased oven-proof dish.  Put cabbage rolls on top, packing tightly.  Add liquid, almost to cover.  Bake in a 350 degree oven for about 1 hour.

The verdict:  Pretty good.  The filling was still a little mild.  Next time, I will go back to using tomatoes and maybe the mint, as I did originally.  And I might add some seasoning to the  tomato sauce, too. No, cauliflower does not provide the same firm texture as using rice—or for, that matter, buckwheat groats.  But it is a viable alternative when you are cutting carbs.

Who says Slovenian food can't be healthy?

Slovenian Dinner Week 45: Minestrone Makeover

Menu
Mineštra II, Minestone Makeover
Salad Nicoise

It was the third Tuesday of November.  Two days before Thanksgiving.

Not a week when I could spend a leisurely morning reading cookbooks, come up with a few options, and then stroll to the market to see what looked good.

It had to be relatively easy.  Not too heavy.  Something that could be made in advance and reheated, or started early and left to simmer.  We would be eating early, since our Cajun band had a gig.

I went back to the early months of this cooking project, to find a likely dish that I hadn’t yet made over.  There were a few contenders.  Maybe a nice soup?

Finally, I had it. Mineštra, Slovenian minestrone.  My first version of mineštra, back in June, had been delicious. Another one of those deceptively simple, familiar dishes that packs a lot of flavor.  It struck me as particularly appealing.  Soothing.  My husband had mentioned that he had just bought a can of borlotti beans, too.

That first time, I had used some chicken-apple sausage we had in the fridge.  It was a little too sweet. Next time, I resolved to use a more suitable sausage, with Italian or Mediterranean seasonings.  Or maybe Polish sausage.  Chicken or turkey, if I could find it.  And instead of rice, I would try pasta, as some recipes suggested.  Whole wheat, or even gluten free, to make it healthier.

And one more plus. We could have leftovers for a light lunch on Thanksgiving, to fill in that awkward need-to-eat-a-little-something gap before the big meal.

I couldn't resist doing a little searching in my cookbook collection.   There seemed to be a few minestrone variations: with beans (fižol), like my original version. Without beans, or Primorska style. And eclectic.

Primorska mineštra skips the beans but has some creative vegetable additions (leeks, celery root, kohlrabi, cauliflower), along with bacon.  I found virtually identical recipes on the Slovenian government website and in Slovenian Cookery, Slavko Adamlje's 1996 book.

Going beyond Slovenia, I found a couple of interesting versions in Olga Novak-Markovic’s Yugoslav Cookbook (1986.)  Istra Minestrone has pork ribs, sweet corn, young tender beans, pasta, and unspecified soup vegetables.  The Dubrovnik version has brussels sprouts, courgettes, pork and mutton, potatoes, French beans, and bacon.

I decided to keep it simple, with maybe just a few new vegetable choices, along with pasta and a spicier sausage.

When I went shopping, at  eleven in the morning, the pre-holiday shopping frenzy had already begun, with Thanksgiving just two days away.  Especially at the butcher shop, where folks were already lined up at the single checkout line.

So I decided to cross the butcher off my list and see what I could find at the cheese shop two doors down, one of my regular haunts, where they had started to carry a nice assortment of sausages.  They had nothing in the way of chicken and turkey alternatives.  But plenty of pork, which would make a Slovenian smile.  I bought a package of lightly smoked savory herb pork sausage.  Made right here in Berkeley. No antibiotics, hormones, gluten, MSG, nitrates, nitrites. All-vegetarian feeds. Couldn't go wrong with that.

The parking lot of the big produce market on the corner was like an obstacle course.  But I didn’t need much, just a potato and a couple of the vegetable alternatives I wanted to try: a leek and a single, knobby celery root. While I was there, I bought some whole wheat pasta elbows. I was ready to go.

Mineštra II, Minestrone Makeover

2 T. olive oil
1/2  large onion, chopped
1 large leek, sliced
1 large clove garlic,chopped
1/2 head red cabbage, sliced
1 large carrot, sliced
1 medium potato, unpeeled, cubed
1 celery root, peeled and cubed
1/4 c. fresh parsley, minced
1 c. chopped tomatoes with juice
10 oz. smoked pork sausage (4 or 5), sliced
2 quarts water
1 c. peas, frozen or fresh
1/2 c. whole wheat pasta elbows
1 can borlotti beans
2 t. salt or to taste
freshly ground pepper
white wine
more fresh parsley

First prepare the vegetables. To prepare the leek, cut off most of the green end.  Cut remaining bulb lengthwise and soak in water.  Rinse well to remove grit, then slice thinly and set aside.  Chop onion and garlic as usual. Slice the cabbage and carrot. Cube the potato.  Peel and cube that knobby celery root. (That was a new experience for me!)

Heat olive oil in large Dutch oven. Add onion and garlic and brown.  Add leek and continue to cook. Add cabbage and sausage and brown.  Add remaining vegetables (except for beans and peas) and water. Cover and simmer. Taste and adjust seasoning.  Toward the end, add pasta and simmer. Add peas. Stir in some white wine and top with more parsley. Serve with grated parmesan cheese.

The soup was simmering, the dishes were washed, and I was giving the counters a final swipe when my husband got home from work.

“That’s definitely the smell of Central Europe,"  he said approvingly.

He was right.

What is it that creates that smell?  It is comforting, slightly musty.  Both familiar and exotic. I connect it with paprika.  But there was no paprika in this dish.  Another part of it, I think, is a sauce that includes tomatoes, but is not tomato-based. Is it a flavor defined by absence?  The surprise of tomato, without the near-ubiquitous Italian seasonings that are often the default flavor choice in American cooking? Tomato with parsley? Does it also require cabbage?

The soup simmered for a long time.  I finally turned it off, fearing that the canned beans or the pasta might disintegrate.

We served the mineštra with some salad nicoise my husband had made for the previous night’s dinner.

The verdict: It was delicious. Better with the more flavorful sausage—and more of it, too, this time.  But we could have managed with less.

I had never cooked with celery root before, although my husband informed me that he had served it grated, as part of his wonderful coleslaw creations.  Raw, it had a strong celery flavor.  Cooked, the flavor was mild and pleasant. The cubes were hard to distinguish from the potatoes—in fact, it might be a good, lower-carb potato alternative.

I noticed, when I went to take photos, that the soup looked a little monochromatic, compared to the first version.  I added more parsley.

It was only the next day that I realize what I had missed: The green peas!  So I added them. Better late than never.

Luckily, we still had enough left over to serve as a pre-dinner snack on Thanksgiving Day.

Slovenian Dinner Week 41, a Healthy Makeover: Stuffed Peppers with Turkey-Kasha Filling

Menu
Stuffed Peppers with Turkey-Kasha Filling
Fresh Cranberry Beans
Green Salad
Lost Kosovo Kugel


After my recent excursion to the FoodBuzz Blogger Festival, it was a relief to get back to the simpler, down-to-earth cooking traditions of my Slovenian American forbears.

But that foodie festival did strengthen my resolve to continue working on healthier versions of the traditional recipes I had been making.

Stuffed peppers, one of my early dishes, was a prime candidate for an overhaul. Although it was a successful Week 7 entree, those peppers had been a little too firm. I had already resolved to parboil them, and probably to leave them whole, the next time around.

Now, with an eye to a healthy makeover, I made a few more changes.  For starters, I would make an all-turkey filling, instead of the beef-pork-turkey mixture I had used before. That meant increasing the spices, as I had done in my recent attempt at healthy turkey cevapcici.  And why not substitute high-protein, flavorful kasha for the white rice?  It might not be traditional, but it would be in the Slovenian spirit.

Otherwise, I followed my original recipe, although I did add a little wine to the tomato sauce.

When I went to the market in the morning, I found a surprise: fresh cranberry beans, otherwise known as Roman or borlotti beans.  By now, the dried version had become a staple in my Slovenian kitchen.  I couldn't resist buying these tasty beans fresh, although I wasn't quite sure how to prepare them.

And for dessert, I invented something new: Lost Kosovo Kugel.  But that's a story in itself.

Stuffed Peppers with Turkey-Kasha Filling

About 8 fresh peppers, assorted colors (I used half green and half red)

1.5 lb. ground turkey
1 large onion, chopped
3 cloves garlic, minced
2 t. smoked paprika
1 c. cooked kasha (buckwheat groats)
¼ c. fresh parsley, minced
1 t. salt
1 t. pepper
1 egg, beaten

For the sauce:

14 oz. can organic Italian peeled tomatoes
14 oz. can organic diced fire-roasted tomatoes
7 oz. strained Italian tomatoes
¼ c. reserved browned onion-garlic mixture
2 oz. red wine
1 t. paprika
2 t. brown sugar
1 t. salt

To prepare the peppers: Remove stem ends carefully and set aside to use as lids.  Clean out the inside of each pepper.  Parboil for 10 minutes in boiling salted water.  Drain and cool.

To cook kasha: Bring 2 cups salted water to boil.  Add 1 cup uncooked kasha.  Let simmer 10 minutes, covered.  Measure out 1 cup and save the rest.  Let cool.

To make filling: Brown onion and garlic well in olive oil.   Set ¼ cup aside to use in sauce. Mix the remaining onion-garlic mixture with the rest of filling ingredients.

To make sauce: Mix all ingredients together and simmer for about fifteen minutes. Taste and adjust seasonings.

To assemble: Put a little tomato sauce in the bottom of a Dutch oven or other large casserole dish.  Arrange peppers inside.  Divide filling among them. (You may have some filling left over.) If you like, add the previously removed  “lid” on top of each pepper. Add more sauce, almost to cover.  Bake at 350 degrees, for 1 hour or more.  Add more sauce if needed.

stuffed peppers, before adding sauce

stuffed peppers, after baking

Fresh Cranberry Beans

Shell the beans.  Rinse and drain in a colander.  Admire the pretty pink mottling, because it will disappear once the beans are cooked!   Simmer in a pot of boiling salted water for 10-20 minutes, until tender.  Drain.  Toss with a dressing of olive oil, lemon juice, parsley, garlic, salt and pepper.

The verdict?  The stuffed peppers were delicious!  The peppers themselves benefited from parboiling and then a longer time in the oven.  We didn't miss the beef and pork in the filling at all.  The addition of kasha worked well.  It created the same dense texture as the traditional rice-meat mix, but with an intriguing hearty, smoked buckwheat flavor.

The beans were a nice, mild complement.  The flavor was even better the next day, after they had marinated in the dressing.

As for that  Kosovo Kugel, I think perhaps it should remain lost.  To learn the full story, read on!