My Mom’s Haluski Is the Comforting One-Pot Dinner I Grew Up On

I’m convinced that everyone has at least one food aroma that instantly transports them to their younger years. Maybe it’s a holiday staple their grandparent made, or perhaps it’s a takeout favorite. For me, that dish is haluski, also known as cabbage and noodles in my house.

The minute the rendered bacon and butter mix with the onion and cabbage, I’m immediately comforted. Haluski is a dish I return to when I miss my mom, and while it’s not the same as her serving up a plate, it always feels like a big, warm hug when I take a bite. It’s humble, simple, and satisfying.

What Is Haluski?

I grew up in Cleveland, a hub for Eastern and Central Europeans, so naturally, we ate a lot of food from those regions. My dad’s side is 100-percent Slovenian, and my grandma on my mom’s side was half Polish, so pierogi, chicken paprikash, gołąbki (stuffed cabbage), and walnut-stuffed potica (aka povitica) were always on rotation. So was haluski—a smoky, buttery noodle dish with just-tender cabbage.

Depending on who you ask, haluski can mean different things. Even in our family, my mom tweaks it depending on her food mood and what she has on hand. Despite variations, the bulk of the dish is always green cabbage, followed by diced onion and a healthy amount of butter.

My mom alternates between spaetzle (perhaps a Hungarian twist) and egg noodles as the base, and for the smoky meatiness, it’s either Polish sausage or bacon. In our house, stirring in a handful of caraway seeds is non-negotiable.

My Version of Cabbage and Noodles

For the most part, my haluski recipe has remained very close to my mom’s version. I always use thick-cut smoked bacon (Niman Ranch is my go-to). It’s the first thing that goes into the pan—I dice it, crisp it, and remove it with a slotted spoon, leaving behind a pool of rendered goodness.

Next, I add some butter. It might sound extravagant, but the butter essentially acts as the sauce for this dish, so it’s necessary. I add the onion and garlic, followed by the cabbage, and everything is cooked over medium heat until the cabbage is nearly tender. I like to keep a little bite to the cabbage; it’s a nice textural contrast with the crisp bacon.

As a final step, I stir in cooked egg noodles, some of the pasta cooking water, more butter (trust the process!), reserved bacon, and caraway. I stir in a few more splashes of pasta water until the cabbage and noodles are coated with a luscious, buttery sauce.

Easy Tweaks

• If you want to go the Polish sausage route, that’s no problem. Simply add 12 ounces of fully cooked links to the pan with a couple tablespoons of olive oil and cook until they’re browned and heated through, then slice into coins and stir in as you would the bacon.
• Not feeling meaty? Feel free to swap it with 12 ounces of sliced mushrooms. Again, cook these first (adding more oil or butter, if needed, to brown), remove, and fold back into the dish at the end. Adding a teaspoon of smoked paprika will mimic the smokiness of meat.
• I prefer extra-wide egg noodles for ease, but spaetzle, either homemade or store-bought, are fantastic here. Pierogi would be great, too. I might even suggest gnocchi, but you’d have to answer to my grandma’s Italian half.
• As I said, caraway is non-negotiable for me, but obviously, it’s a choice for you. A handful of fresh chopped dill or parsley or a squeeze of lemon would add some welcome freshness. Try a big pinch of red pepper flakes for heat. If you’re looking for more texture, some toasted walnuts could be nice. Make it your own—just don’t stray from the butter.