Easter in quarantine. The strangest Easter of my life.
No gathering at the Cape Cod. No table set with Babcia's china. No Uncle Stan, no Aunt Debbie, no Mrs. Katz with her pie. Just me, in my apartment, cooking a full Easter dinner for one that I then divided into containers and drove around Bay View delivering like a sad, delicious Santa Claus.
I made everything: pierogi (all three kinds), kapusta, ham glazed with honey and cloves (a small one, apartment-sized), hard-boiled eggs dyed with onion skins the old way, beet relish, babka. I cooked for six hours on Saturday. My kitchen was destroyed — every surface covered, every pot in use. It looked like Babcia's kitchen on the day before Easter. It smelled like her kitchen. It felt like her kitchen. Except the only person in it was me.
Delivered to Mrs. Wojcik at 4 PM. Left the containers on her porch. Knocked. Drove to the curb. Watched through the car window as she opened the door, looked at the food, looked toward my car, and blew me a kiss. Eighty-two years old, alone on Easter, blowing a kiss to a boy in a Jeep. I sat in the car and cried for five minutes.
Delivered to Mom and Dad. Same protocol — porch, knock, retreat. Mom opened the door and waved from behind the screen. Dad stood behind her with his hand on her shoulder. I waved back. We stood there for a while, thirty feet apart, my parents behind glass and me on their lawn, and we didn't speak because what do you say? What do you say when the distance between you and the people you love is the thing keeping them alive?
I went home. I set a place for Babcia — the extra plate, the glass, the silverware. I said grace, which I never do alone, and I said it for her: "For the food on this table, for the hands that made it, for the woman who taught those hands, we are grateful. Amen."
I ate Easter dinner alone in my apartment. Pierogi and kapusta and ham and tears. And somehow, it was still Easter. Because the food was there. Because the love was there. Even across porches and car windows and thirty feet of lawn, the love was there.
Babcia would have hated this Easter. She would have been furious at the distance, at the isolation, at the empty table. But she would have understood the pierogi on the porch. She would have understood that food, delivered in containers to people you can't touch, is still love. It's always love.
Babcia’s kapusta was the dish that stopped me in my tracks every time I walked into her kitchen — that deep, sweet-savory smell of braised cabbage soaking into everything around it. After that Easter, after the porches and the car window and the thirty feet of lawn, I kept coming back to cabbage as a way to hold onto her. This Cabbage Hamburger Bake isn’t the kapusta I cooked that Saturday — it’s simpler, faster, the kind of thing you can pull together on a Tuesday — but it carries the same spirit: humble ingredients, honest comfort, and the understanding that a pot of cabbage on the stove means someone is being taken care of.
Cabbage Hamburger Bake
Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 45 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 1 lb lean ground beef
- 1 small yellow onion, diced
- 2 cloves garlic, minced
- 1/2 head green cabbage, roughly chopped (about 6 cups)
- 1 can (14.5 oz) diced tomatoes, undrained
- 1 can (8 oz) tomato sauce
- 1/2 cup long-grain white rice, uncooked
- 1/2 cup beef broth
- 1 tsp Worcestershire sauce
- 1 tsp paprika
- 1/2 tsp caraway seeds (optional, for a Polish-leaning flavor)
- Salt and black pepper to taste
- 1 cup shredded sharp cheddar cheese
Instructions
- Preheat and prep. Preheat your oven to 350°F. Lightly grease a 9x13-inch baking dish and set aside.
- Brown the beef. In a large skillet over medium-high heat, cook the ground beef and diced onion together, breaking the meat into crumbles, until the beef is no longer pink, about 6–8 minutes. Add the garlic and cook 1 minute more. Drain any excess fat.
- Build the sauce. Stir in the diced tomatoes, tomato sauce, beef broth, Worcestershire sauce, paprika, caraway seeds if using, and the uncooked rice. Season generously with salt and pepper. Bring to a brief simmer, about 2 minutes.
- Layer the cabbage. Spread half the chopped cabbage in an even layer across the bottom of the prepared baking dish. Spoon the meat and rice mixture evenly over the top. Cover with the remaining cabbage.
- Bake covered. Cover the dish tightly with aluminum foil and bake for 35 minutes, until the rice is nearly tender and the cabbage has wilted and softened.
- Add cheese and finish. Remove the foil, sprinkle the shredded cheddar evenly over the top, and return to the oven uncovered for 10 minutes, until the cheese is melted and beginning to bubble at the edges.
- Rest and serve. Let the bake rest for 5 minutes before serving. It holds well in containers and reheats beautifully — which makes it ideal for leaving on someone’s porch.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 310 | Protein: 24g | Fat: 13g | Carbs: 24g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 520mg
About the cook who shared this
Jake Kowalski
Week 211 of Jake’s 30-year story
· Milwaukee, Wisconsin
Jake is a twenty-nine-year-old brewery worker, newlywed, and proud Polish-American from Milwaukee's Bay View neighborhood. He didn't start cooking until his grandmother Babcia Helen passed away and left behind a stack of grease-stained recipe cards. Now he makes pierogi from scratch, smokes meats on a balcony smoker his landlord pretends not to notice, and writes for guys who want to cook good food but don't know a roux from a rub.