The Sauerkraut I Didn’t Appreciate

When I was younger, I didn’t particularly enjoy making sauerkraut.

It meant work, family gatherings and time away from the little world I had created for myself. At that age, spending a whole day around family traditions wasn’t exactly something I looked forward to.

And then there were my feet.

We used a large ceramic crock, and pressing the cabbage down was my job. I would literally stand inside it, using my full body weight, while my father held me and helped me keep my balance.

I remember the smell, the cold juices and the spices around my feet. At the time, I hated the sensation.

I also didn’t really understand what it was all about.

Making sauerkraut was simply something our family did.

And it wasn’t the only tradition like that.

We made fruit compotes to preserve the summer harvest. There was lečo and čalamáda. We foraged for mushrooms and herbs and dried them for later.

There was also zabíjačka, when a whole animal was butchered and almost everything was used. Some cuts were kept for cooking, while other parts became sausages, black pudding or pâtés. The rest could be frozen for later.

At the time, none of this seemed particularly special.

It was just normal.

Years later, living away from Slovakia and working as a chef, I began looking at those memories differently.

Learning about fermentation and preservation through different cuisines made me realise that many of the techniques I found interesting professionally had always been around me.

Fermentation wasn’t something new.

Preserving food wasn’t something new.

People in my family had been doing it for generations — preserving what was available and preparing food for the colder months.

Perhaps distance changes the way we see things too.

Being away from home, family and country has made me appreciate memories that once felt ordinary. Getting older probably plays a part as well. Things we barely noticed when we were young can slowly become the things we want to hold on to.

Today, I still experiment with lacto-fermentation, mostly as a way of developing flavour.

But I would like to make sauerkraut again for a different reason.

I want the ritual.

I want to make it with someone I love, leave it to ferment and eventually use the first batch to make kapustnica at Christmas.

I think opening that crock would reconnect me with much more than food.

With my parents. My grandparents. My childhood. And all those small memories that I didn’t know were important at the time.

And perhaps the best way to preserve a tradition is simply to practise it again — and then share it with someone else.