You ever take a dish to a pot luck party and try to hoard it all yourself?
I invariably fall in love with what I make, and have a hard time sharing. The only reason I'm still allowed to go to pot luck parties is because yes, I want to taste what you made, and you, and you, and you. So I will put small dabs of everything on my plate first, and only then will I allow myself to put a spoonful of my own contribution on my plate, where I've left a tiny hole.
See? I'm in control. Help yourself to some of my lovely offering; there's plenty for all.
Now, maybe sauerkraut is not exactly the type of thing you'd get all swoony over, but I would. I love sour stuff. So when Cranky and I were invited to feast on roasted goose with a couple dozen other epicures, I volunteered to bring sauerkraut as a side dish.
I did not ferment my own cabbage, though I would have liked to; there just wasn't enough time. Instead, I bought two large jars of pretty good stuff and tinkered with flavors and long, slow baking to come up with a meltingly caramelized mess. The only problem was that the kraut began to shrink, only partly due to evaporation; more likely due to the cabbage's cell structure breaking down in the heat.
Alas, I ended up toting a rather skimpy-looking quantity to the party, where I wanted it all to myself... but everybody was well-mannered and we shared.
I sampled lots of yummy dishes at the party; I'm so glad I didn't fill up on my own contribution.
We've made another batch for ourselves already.
Yesterday I got the bright idea of chopping up a teensy tail end of leftover andouille sausage and stirring it into some of the sauerkraut, and putting this on rye bread with mustard and "Thousand Island" sauce (ketchup plus mayonnaise), then grating Emmental cheese over it, and grilling it in butter. A Reuben sandwich without corned beef! Cranky calls it "Reubenesque."