Sour, Not Sweet
My sisters and I grew up eating this coleslaw; we didn’t know there was any other kind for years since every family member we visited on my Mom’s side made it the same way. My grandmother Mimi said the recipe originated with the Pennsylvania Dutch; I don’t know that for a fact, but I accept it as our family’s truth. Mimi was big on talking up the Pennsylvania Dutch from whom she said we descended.
Growing up, Thanksgiving wasn’t Thanksgiving if we didn’t have Mom’s coleslaw on the table. My mother made it for many, many years; after she relocated to Arizona, my oldest sister Linda made it each year for the Jersey crew. Once Linda passed away, I took on the challenge of making the sourest coleslaw in New Jersey.
It’s an acquired taste. . .at least that’s what most of the in-laws said when they tasted it for the first time. My husband Mike won’t go near the stuff, while my sister Cindy’s Mike will always eat a spoonful or two. We’ve had assorted boyfriends actually gag over the years after they’ve tasted it. No accounting for taste (theirs), I say.
Ingredients: 1 head cabbage, new small bottle Heinz white vinegar, salt and pepper to taste, 16 oz heavy cream, dollop or two of sour cream.
Taste and see if the white vinegar is the top note of the dish. If not, add another tablespoon or two of vinegar and more heavy cream. The idea is that the coleslaw should be creamy looking but not totally runny.
You know you have the taste right when your tongue kinda curls back in your mouth and you break into a violent coughing fit if you try to talk. That vinegar is serious stuff.
Refrigerate until serving. Stir well before putting it on the table. Warn your guests before they take their first bite.