Haluski (Fried Cabbage and Noodles)

I went to school. I actually went to school.

Monday night. 6 PM. I kissed Chloe and Jayden at Mama's apartment, got in the Altima (no more grinding sound, thank God), drove to Nashville State, parked in Lot C, and walked into Room 214 of the Health Sciences building with my Goodwill backpack and my Walmart pens and my heart beating so loud I was sure the girl next to me could hear it.

The girl next to me was Tanisha. She'd saved me a seat. She had the same look on her face that I had on mine — the look of a woman who is doing something extraordinary while feeling entirely ordinary. We didn't hug. We just sat down. Sometimes showing up together is the hug.

The professor — Dr. Whitfield — started with introductions. Name, background, why you're here. When it got to me, I said: "Sarah Mitchell. I'm twenty-four. I have two kids. I work at Waffle House. I'm here because a woman left me a fifty-dollar tip and told me I could do two years." There was a silence, and then Dr. Whitfield said, "That's exactly why you're here." I almost lost it. I held it together by staring at the periodic table on the wall and reminding myself that I am a Mitchell woman and Mitchell women do not cry in science classrooms. We cry in parking lots. Later.

I cried in the parking lot. Later. Tanisha was already there. Crying in her car. We rolled down our windows and cried at each other across two parking spaces and then we laughed, because what else do you do when you're thirty-something and twenty-something and sitting in a community college parking lot at 9:15 PM having just survived the first class of a new life?

The rest of the week was a blur. Work at 7. Home at 3. Kids until 5:30. School at 6. Home at 9:30. Kids asleep. Study. Sleep. Repeat. Wednesday was the same. Thursday was the same. By Friday I was so tired I put the cereal in the fridge and the milk in the pantry and didn't notice until Chloe said, "Mama, the Cheerios are cold."

But I did it. I survived week one. I took notes. I understood most of what Dr. Whitfield said. I only got confused once (the difference between enamel and dentin — I know now, don't test me). Tanisha and I texted the whole weekend, quizzing each other on Chapter 1 vocabulary like two women who have discovered that studying is actually more fun when someone else is suffering with you.

I made fried bologna sandwiches for dinner on Friday because I had nothing left — no energy, no groceries, no ambition. Fried bologna on white bread with mustard. That's it. Earline's poverty food. Lorraine's "I can't do one more thing" food. My "I just survived the first week of the rest of my life" food. Chloe ate hers and said, "This is fancy." It is not fancy. It is the opposite of fancy. But she ate it and smiled and I ate mine and smiled and sometimes fancy is just: we're all here, we're all fed, and Mama did something impossible today.

Fried bologna on Friday night reminded me that the best meals aren’t the ones that impress anyone—they’re the ones that get everyone fed when you have nothing left to give. If your week looked anything like mine, this Haluski is for you: buttery, soft, honest cabbage and egg noodles that cost next to nothing and take almost no thought, which is exactly the kind of recipe you need when your brain is still running flashcards on enamel versus dentin at 9 PM. Earline would’ve made it. Lorraine would’ve made it. And on the weeks you survive something impossible, so should you.

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 35 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

8 oz wide egg noodles
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, divided
1 large yellow onion, thinly sliced
1 small head green cabbage (about 1 1/2 lbs), cored and roughly chopped
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
1/2 teaspoon salt, plus more to taste
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1/4 teaspoon smoked paprika (optional)

Instructions

Cook the noodles. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Cook the egg noodles according to package directions until just tender. Drain and set aside, tossing with 1 tablespoon of the butter to prevent sticking.
Soften the onion. In a large skillet or Dutch oven over medium heat, melt the remaining 3 tablespoons of butter. Add the sliced onion and cook, stirring occasionally, for 6–8 minutes until soft and just beginning to turn golden.
Add the cabbage. Add the chopped cabbage to the skillet. Stir to combine with the onion and butter. Season with salt, pepper, garlic powder, and smoked paprika if using. Cook over medium heat, stirring every few minutes, for 12–15 minutes until the cabbage is tender and some edges are lightly browned.
Combine. Add the drained noodles to the skillet with the cabbage and onion. Toss everything together over low heat for 1–2 minutes until warmed through and well coated. Taste and adjust salt and pepper as needed.
Serve. Dish into bowls and serve hot. A little extra butter on top never hurts.

Nutrition (per serving)

Haluski (Fried Cabbage and Noodles) — The Meal That Says We Made It Through