After the exotic pomegranate, a cabbage seems rather homely, but actually, I eat a lot more cabbage than I do pomegranate. By next summer I’ll be more than happy to abandon cabbage for a few months, but now, after my summer break from it, I’m pleased to see it again.

Most often, I just slice the cabbage and sweat it in butter and a very little water, with some seeds (usually carraway), salt and pepper. There are other options, but this one is the standard for red, white or savoy cabbage.

Today I’m replenishing my depleted supplies of sauerkraut. Sauerkraut is cabbage that’s pickled by fermenting the sugars in the cabbage into lactic acid. People have been making sauerkraut for a very long time. Apparently it originated in China and was brought to Europe by the Tartars. It’s taken such hold in Northern Europe that it’s practically become German. It certainly goes very well with German sausages. In the 18th century, Captain Cook loaded thousands of pounds of sauerkraut onto his ships to ward off scurvy on long voyages.

The bacteria that are needed to work the transformation into sauerkraut are already present on the cabbage, but if you’re worried that the wrong sort of biological activity will start in your cabbage, you can tilt the odds in your favour by adding a little bit of whey (the liquid that separates out from yoghurt will work). The salt in the recipe is not only for flavour, but also helps to make conditions more favourable for the kind of bacteria you want to encourage.

Either white or red cabbage will work. Slice the cabbage finely by hand, or use a food processor. Put it in a large bowl, add 1 tsp salt per pound/500g (or about 1% by weight), then add your seasoning. Caraway is my favourite here, as well: it just goes very well with cabbage. Bruise the cabbage thoroughly using a large pestle, or the end of a rolling pin and let it sit for a few minutes to bring out some of the juices.  Put the cabbage into preserving jars, pressing it down firmly. The jars need to have spring catches, not screw tops, so they don’t burst during the fermentation. If you really pack it down with your knuckles, you’ll get a lot more in each jar than you’d expect. I prefer to use 500ml/one pint jars rather than very large ones, so that I don’t have an opened jar around for ages. Keep the jars at room temperature for about a week, then move them to somewhere cooler. The sauerkraut will be ready to eat after about a month, but will keep for a year – until it’s time to make it again.

Sauerkraut can be eaten raw, or cooked, either briefly, or braised for a long time. You can rinse it if you want to reduce the saltiness and acidity. As usual, the traditional food combinations work well: sausages or corned beef go well. And don’t forget the wonderful Reubens: make a toasted sandwich with corned beef, sauerkraut, mayonnaise and cheese.