Comfort food is an overused phrase, no doubt. But when I'm cooking for a large crew, I make a beeline to the cabbages and the butcher's counter. As a kid, I ate my grandmother's stuffed cabbage almost weekly. It was the sweet-and-sour Jewish-esque version, and I loved it. I've had Polish versions and Russian versions, and frankly there's something synergistically wondrous about cabbage and beef or veal; they support and showcase each other. But this version has something different.