Over the last several years, my household has shrunk from five people to two, and I’m still adjusting my vegetable gardening, meat processing orders and menu planning. For instance, last summer, my short row of cabbages was still much too long. I like coleslaw and cabbage casserole as much as anybody but I can only eat so much, and for some reason my husband doesn’t want to eat the same thing five days in a row. As frost approached, I still had one overgrown cabbage in the garden I didn’t want to waste. After all, it probably weighed 3.5 pounds, and a cabbage that size would cost at least $1.50 at the grocery store, even with coupons. However, my refrigerator vegetable drawers were already stuffed with the season’s last cucumbers, bell peppers and broccoli. Clearly, it was time to embrace my thrifty German heritage and make some sauerkraut.

A traditional hausfrau might not have used a KitchenAid for the shredding and mashing, but I used the same two ingredients that have been used for centuries: cabbage and salt. Of course, that’s not counting the multiple species of lactobacilli that are necessary for anaerobic lactic acid pickling. Those just floated in from the air or came in clinging to the cabbage leaves.

A month or so after packing the crock, I opened it up to check its progress. The aroma initially caused some alarm when it was mistaken for a propane leak, but after canceling my husband’s evacuation order I served him some pork chops and sauerkraut for supper. There were no gas-related explosions. Since then, we’ve enjoyed it with bratwurst and in Ruben sandwiches as well. I even saved some for New Year’s Day to ensure a prosperous 2018.

Recently, sauerkraut and other fermented foods have become trendy, both because of their complex flavors and their health benefits. According to many fermentation fans, the probiotics help prevent everything from cancer and depression to ulcers, food allergies and obesity. Some of those claims may be hard to prove, but I’m convinced that a strong, balanced population of gut bacteria contributes to overall good health.

Ironically, many fermentation proponents also rail against processed foods, ignoring the fact that fermentation is a form of processing. In the centuries before refrigeration, it was one of the most common preservation methods. For builders of China’s Great Wall, fermented cabbage was a diet staple; Roman soldiers took it along on their campaigns; and the sailors exploring with Captain Cook ate it to prevent scurvy. It has stood the test of time, and many cultures around the world have developed their own recipes for fermented cabbage, such as Korea’s kimchi or curtido in Central America.

I doubt the first people to eat fermented cabbage knew anything about probiotics, and they probably had no idea that fermentation would make the cabbage more nutritious by increasing the bioavailability of minerals and vitamins C and K. Fermenting cabbage creates beneficial enzymes, omega-3 fatty acids and B vitamins, as well.

Considering all those benefits, I might eat it even if I didn’t like it.