Kraut Making May 2000

“Making kraut it’s too early,” was the astonished response I received on telling a friend what I was doing. It does seem early; however, John put the cabbage plants out in February and they grew without problems.  I don’t know anybody who makes kraut nowadays, so I had to put together what John and I remember and proceed.

When we made kraut in my growing-up days it was a big ordeal.  After lunch we took the oilcloth off the kitchen table and moved it out in the backyard under a large oak tree.  First we scrubbed the naked table top and then washed the cabbage heads in a wash tub (using water hand-drawn from the well) and the chopping began.  The heads were split and the core removed.  The first chopping was done with a large butcher knife, turning and twisting, turning and twisting the cabbage as we chopped until it was fine enough to put in the churn.  This process was continued and the chopped cabbage was layered in churn with a generous sprinkling of salt.

The chopping continued after the cabbage was in the churn –we had a kraut chopper.  Actually it was a sharpened hoe with the neck straightened out and with a handle about two feet long. The cabbage mixture was covered with large cabbage leaves.  Next we had to find a rock the appropriate size and wash it.  The rock was placed on the leaves to keep the mixture under water.  Then a guano sack was tied over the churn and it was allowed to set for nine days – being checked periodically to see if enough water remained to cover the aging cabbage.  After nine days the mixture was canned and put away for winter.

This time the cabbage was chopped with the food processor which makes the kraut a little finer, than I like, but. . . . .

We packed the mixture in a three-gallon crock we’ve had for eons and placed it on the kitchen counter. Needless to say the kraut makers were worn out.  However, we discovered the job was not done.  As we started to bed John discovered the crock was leaking.  My new dishtowel (pretty dishtowels are my weakness) was soaked with brine as was my special cookbook.

What a mess.  We had no choice but to wash Mother’s churn and make the transfer.  We found no hole in the crock, but we couldn’t believe the sack towel had acted as a siphon and put the brine on the counter.  The mystery remains.  With canning day approaching I hope I can tell when the mixture is ready for the next step.  This is how it is with country living.