The cabbage is the thing, #1.

So, here is what might be the biggest not-secret of my life: I work quite a bit. Quite. Some would say too much. This past week has been illustrative of all the good and all the bad that come with participating in a CSA. Work happened, and happened, and happened, and happened, and before I knew it, I was staring down the day before a new delivery with half the share sitting in the fridge. And on a night when ALL I wanted was to head to ol' Rigyalas, or order Indian food, or just eat peanut butter on toast. But, I am nothing if not determined, and dammit to hell if I was about to let any of this delicious food go to waste.

I took stock. Left this week: an enormous Napa cabbage, kohlrabi, snow peas, radishes, spring onions. Time to pull out the wok.

Now, I have a go-to cabbage preparation. All I could think to do to use all of these vegetables was to expand my go-to to include them, timing appropriately, then add the secret ingredient that makes everything a meal.

First, I prepped the cabbage per usual, trimming and washing in several changes of water. Then I tried to figure out kohlrabi. Which came with a friend.

Kohlrabi is not anything I had heard of. It looks -- best as I can describe -- like a Muppet. I mean, it should stand up and dance and sing. Apparently I am not alone in thinking this, as a bit of Web research pulled up the following.

Also considered "sputnik-shaped," kohlrabi is apparently German for cabbage turnip. These little critters can be eaten raw or cooked and are described as tasting like "broccoli stems," which, um, are not my preference. It is also commonly used in Indian food. This was going to be an experiment. Once I disposed of the squirmy tag-along, I got to peelin' and choppin'.

 

Kohlrabi reminds me of raw potato, which, to the horror of many, I found delicious as a wee child, when my father and I would steal a slice as my mother cooked, sprinkle with pepper, and crunch away. The thought of doing so now makes me cringe, but the kohlrabi makes for a nice, non-cringeworthy substitute.

To add to the kohlrabi and cabbage, I prepared the radishes, the snow peas, and the spring onions. In other words, I washed them. With a veggie brush. Those suckers were dirty. Then I sliced the radishes and the spring onions -- white AND green parts.

With that, I minced my garlic and ginger. Do you know the easiest way to peel fresh ginger? It does not involve a knife. Simply use the back of a spoon to scrape scrape scrape. Then mince. I then collected my necessaries: mirin (or rice vinegar if no mirin), soy sauce (or Bragg's amino acids -- WAY less sodium), canola oil (I highly recommend investing in a 79-cent squirt bottle for such a purpose), toasted sesame oil, and, lately -- though by no means is it necessary -- I have enjoyed adding Penzeys Chinese Five Spice Powder.

My dear friend Sarah gave me an electric wok when I got married.  Now, this may seem one of those things that ladies ooh and aah over, only for the gift to require adequate storage for an annual use. But that is not the case. I use the HELL out of this thing. It is a great size, non-stick, minimizes oil needs, heats up fast, cools down faster, and is a zillion times easier to clean than any pot I own. It fits perfectly in the cabinet atop the fridge. In the summer especially, I use the electric wok several times a week, essentially whenever I cannot grill due to weather or the absence of slabs of meat. Bonus: the wok does not heat up the house. I love love love love it. Run get one for yourself and see what I mean.

I never use it on high when cooking veggies. I turned it to maybe a six, waited a minute or two, drizzled in a TINY amount of canola oil (less than I would use in a pan), and added the onion. My senses began to sing. Once the onion heated up (remember, these are spring onions that will cook much faster -- normally I use a regular white or yellow onion, which requires more cooking), I added the garlic and ginger. Then the kohlrabi.

Normally, the only two items that hit the wok are onions and cabbage. With so many vegetables awaiting my belly, I worked in the rest with some guesstimate at how long each needed to cook. About this point in time, I changed my mind about adding the radishes since I had zero clue how long the radishes would need in a wok, and I was a bit concerned that the radishes would be strange with the Chinese Five Spice. So, into a steamer went the radishes. And to the wok went several healthy shakes of Five Spice, the cabbage, then the snow peas. To the concoction I added about a teaspoon of mirin and a good few squirts of Bragg's (maybe a tablespoon). The thing was so full I had potential for a true mess on my hands.

The cabbage requires massive amounts of turning. It does not cook down nearly as quickly as other greens. I mean, it's CABBAGE. But once it is done, it is done. After 5 or so minutes had passed, it was ready.  I drizzled a dab (less than a teaspoon) of the toasted sesame oil over the cabbage concoction, then gave it one lass thorough toss about before removing it to a bowl. Time for my final ingredient for the wok. Even on number six, the cooking liquid was bubbling away. Waiting patiently.

The perfect receptacle for fresh shrimp! Shrimp complete any meal! Protein! Low-fat! Delicious! And fast!

While the shrimp cooked for the few minutes necessary, I heated a touch of olive oil in a nonstick pan (again, minimizing the oil use) and tossed in my now steamed radishes, to which I added just a hint of salt and pepper. Voila.

Finally. A meal made from five vegetables from the farm. This was a record for me. And so freaking delicious.