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Sweet-And-Sour Kraut — A Side Dish That Holds Its Own at the Sunday Table

Sugar, the week before Thanksgiving. The grocery list is on the kitchen wall. The turkey was ordered Tuesday from the butcher on Bessemer Road who has been my butcher for thirty years. The greens are getting washed Saturday. The fellowship hall freezer at the church is full of pies for the church Thanksgiving plates. I have a team of twelve women working with me. We are turning out one hundred plates this year for any church family who needs one.

Calvin preached Sunday on the mustard seed. The church said amen. I talked to Mama at the stove. I told her the recipe was right. I told her the kitchen was holding. The cast iron skillet hummed.

Pot roast Sunday. Chuck. Onions, carrots, celery, garlic, beef broth, a splash of red wine that the church does not need to know about. Five hours low and slow.

CJ called from Huntsville. The grandchildren — Caleb (2), Naomi — are well. Shanice sends her love. A new face at Bernice's Table this week. A young woman with a baby. I gave her two plates. She thanked me. I told her, baby, come every Tuesday.

The skillet is hanging on its hook. The hymn is in my head. Amen.

I stood at the kitchen window with my coffee Tuesday morning. Six o'clock. The light just coming. The yard quiet. Talking to Mama about the day ahead. The talking is its own prayer, sugar.

A new young wife joined the Saturday cooking class. Twenty-two years old. She does not know how to make rice. I will teach her. The chain extends.

I sat on the porch Saturday afternoon. The neighborhood was quiet. Mr. Henderson across the street waved. I waved back. The porches are the original social network, sugar. We have been at this since Eden.

I read for an hour Sunday night before bed. The Bible, then a book Doris sent me about the civil rights movement in Birmingham. The book made me think about Bernice in the church kitchen during the bombings.

I made coffee at five Tuesday morning. Strong, with cream, no sugar (the diabetes). I stood at the kitchen window. The yard was still in dark. The day ahead was the day ahead. I went into it.

My knees were bad this week. I sat between rounds at the stove. The volunteers tried to take the spoon. I would not let them. The spoon is not negotiable, sugar.

Sister Beulah came by Tuesday afternoon to drop off the bulletins. She stayed for coffee. We talked about the church, about her grandbaby, about the heat. The visit was the visit.

Sister Patrice's husband had heart surgery this week. I drove a meal over Tuesday — chicken and rice, cornbread, peach cobbler. She cried at the door. I told her, baby, eat the food. The food was the saying.

I went to the cemetery Saturday morning. I left a small piece of pound cake on Bernice's stone. I sat on the grass for fifteen minutes. The wind moved the trees.

The garden in the side yard, sugar. The tomatoes are coming on. The okra is up. The collards are getting big. I will be canning by August. I always say I am not going to can. I always end up canning.

Sunday after service Calvin and I drove past the new sanctuary site. The choir loft windows were going in. We sat in the car and looked. He did not speak. I did not speak. The watching was the prayer.

Bernice's Table Tuesday. The team was sharp. The food held. The room held.

I said chuck, onions, carrots, celery, garlic — five hours low and slow — and I meant every word of it. But what I did not say, sugar, is what I put on the side. This sweet-and-sour kraut has been on my Sunday table nearly as long as the cast iron has been on its hook. The tang cuts right through the richness of the roast, and the sweetness keeps it from going too far. Bernice used to say a good side dish knows its place and does its job without making a fuss. That is exactly what this one does.

Sweet-And-Sour Kraut

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 35 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

  • 3 strips bacon, chopped
  • 1/2 medium yellow onion, diced
  • 1 can (14.5 oz) sauerkraut, drained and rinsed
  • 3 tablespoons brown sugar, packed
  • 2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
  • 1/4 cup water
  • 1/2 teaspoon caraway seeds (optional)
  • Black pepper to taste

Instructions

  1. Cook the bacon. In a medium skillet over medium heat, cook the chopped bacon until the fat renders and the pieces begin to crisp, about 5–6 minutes. Remove bacon with a slotted spoon and set aside, leaving the drippings in the pan.
  2. Soften the onion. Add the diced onion to the drippings and cook over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until translucent and just beginning to turn golden, about 5 minutes.
  3. Build the sweet-and-sour base. Stir in the brown sugar and apple cider vinegar. Cook for 1 minute, letting the sugar dissolve and the mixture bubble gently.
  4. Add the kraut. Add the drained sauerkraut and water to the skillet. Stir everything together to combine. If using caraway seeds, add them now.
  5. Simmer low and slow. Reduce heat to low. Cover and cook for 15 minutes, stirring once or twice, until the kraut is tender and has absorbed the sweet-sour flavor throughout. Add a splash more water if the pan looks dry.
  6. Finish and serve. Stir the reserved bacon back in. Taste and adjust seasoning with black pepper. Serve warm alongside pot roast or any braised meat.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 85 | Protein: 3g | Fat: 4g | Carbs: 10g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 510mg

Loretta Simms
About the cook who shared this
Loretta Simms
Week 504 of Loretta’s 30-year story · Birmingham, Alabama
Loretta is a fifty-six-year-old pastor's wife in Birmingham, Alabama, who has been feeding her church and her community for thirty-four years. She lost her teenage son Jeremiah in a car accident, and she cooked through the grief because that is what Loretta does — she feeds people. Every funeral, every homecoming, every Wednesday night supper. If you are hurting, Loretta will show up at your door with a casserole and she will not leave until you eat.

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