I turned thirty-three Sunday, St. Patrick's Day. I went to Southie at 4 PM with the kids. The family was there. My mother had made the corned beef. Grace had driven down and brought flowers. Danny had flown in from New London. Patrick and Colleen and Sean III. Meghan and Brian and Aidan. Linda — yes, Linda, who is a Donovan now, come to my birthday in Southie — had driven up with me and the kids.
I did not enjoy the dinner. I ate it. I thanked everyone. I blew out the candles on the cake. I did not make a wish because I did not know what to wish for. I opened gifts. I hugged my mother. I hugged my father. I hugged my siblings. I got through.
At 9 PM I drove home. The kids were asleep by Neponset. I put them to bed. I sat on the couch at 10:30 with a cup of tea. Meghan called at 11, as she does every night. She said "Katie." I said "Meg." She said "how are you." I said "I got through." She said "I know." She said "you cried?" I said "not much. Not more than usual. I ate. I did it." She said "good." We talked for two hours. About Aidan. About Brian. About Patrick's latest news. About nothing specific. About everything. She is the only person I speak to that late every night. She has been on the line since Sean was dying. She will be for the rest of our lives. We hung up at 1 AM. I went to bed. I slept. I woke up thirty-three.
Liam came into my room at 6:30. He climbed in bed. He said "happy birthday yesterday, Mommy." I said "thank you, Buddy." He said "are you sad." I said "a little. But not too much. I am okay." He said "okay." He fell back asleep against me. Nora came in at 7. She climbed in the bed on the other side. She said "Mommy I love you." I said "I love you, Nora." We stayed like that for twenty minutes. Then Monday began. I had work. I drove to Dorchester. The day began.
My mother’s corned beef is hers — I would not try to replicate it, and I would not want to. But after that Sunday, after I got through the birthday and the candles and the hugging and the driving home past Neponset with the kids asleep in the back, I found myself thinking about cabbage. About how cabbage is the thing that holds. It takes the brine, the braise, the weight of everything you put around it, and it stays. Malfouf is Lebanese stuffed cabbage — nothing like my mother’s table, everything like the feeling I was after — leaves wrapped tight around seasoned rice and beef, simmered slow in lemon and garlic until the whole pot smells like something that will be okay. I made it the Tuesday after. Liam asked for seconds. That felt like enough.
Malfouf (Lebanese Stuffed Cabbage Rolls)
Prep Time: 30 minutes | Cook Time: 1 hour 15 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 45 minutes | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 1 large head green cabbage
- 1 lb ground beef (80/20)
- 3/4 cup long-grain white rice, uncooked
- 1 medium yellow onion, finely grated
- 3 cloves garlic, minced
- 1 tsp ground allspice
- 1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
- 1/2 tsp ground black pepper
- 1 1/4 tsp kosher salt, divided
- 2 tbsp olive oil
- 1/3 cup fresh lemon juice (about 2 large lemons)
- 2 cups low-sodium chicken or beef broth
- 1/2 cup crushed or diced tomatoes
- 3–4 garlic cloves, thinly sliced (for the pot)
- Dried mint, for garnish (optional)
Instructions
- Blanch the cabbage. Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Core the cabbage from the bottom with a sharp knife. Submerge the whole head and blanch for 5–7 minutes, peeling away outer leaves as they soften. Set leaves on a towel to cool and drain. Repeat until you have 18–20 pliable leaves. Trim any thick center ribs flat with a knife so the leaves roll easily.
- Make the filling. In a bowl, combine the ground beef, uncooked rice, grated onion, minced garlic, allspice, cinnamon, black pepper, and 1 tsp of the salt. Mix gently with your hands until just combined. Do not overwork.
- Roll the cabbage. Lay a cabbage leaf flat. Place 2–3 tablespoons of filling near the bottom edge, fold the sides in, and roll snugly — like a small burrito. The rice will expand as it cooks, so do not overfill. Repeat with remaining leaves and filling.
- Layer the pot. Drizzle olive oil across the bottom of a wide, heavy-bottomed pot or Dutch oven. Scatter the sliced garlic across the bottom. Arrange the stuffed cabbage rolls seam-side down in tight, even layers. Tuck any torn or extra cabbage leaves between and over the top of the rolls.
- Add the braising liquid. Whisk together the broth, lemon juice, crushed tomatoes, and remaining 1/4 tsp salt. Pour evenly over the rolls. The liquid should come about 3/4 of the way up the rolls; add a splash more broth if needed. Place a heavy plate or lid directly on top of the rolls to keep them submerged and compact.
- Simmer low and slow. Bring to a gentle boil over medium heat, then reduce to low. Cover the pot and simmer for 55–65 minutes, until the rice is fully cooked and the cabbage is very tender. Taste the braising liquid and adjust lemon or salt to your liking.
- Rest and serve. Let the pot rest off the heat for 10 minutes before serving. Carefully plate the rolls and spoon braising broth over the top. Garnish with a pinch of dried mint if you like. Serve with warm pita or crusty bread.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 340 | Protein: 22g | Fat: 14g | Carbs: 29g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 520mg