Hilib (meat) is adored by all Somalis. As such, vegetarianism can be seen as peculiar or a sort of ailment. I've witnessed Hoyoo's (Mums) and Habo's (aunties) quickly morph into nutritionists when informed that someone is a vegetarian. At times, their concern can promote a brazen disregard for dietary requirements. When I informed my mum that my husband was a vegetarian before taking him for dinner, she still cooked him a huge slab of lamb alongside some rice. Similarly, when I first took my husband to my sister's house, pre-warning her that he was a vegetarian, she served us salmon. Thankfully, my husband is more flexitarian than vegetarian. 

Somali cuisine is tied to a nomadic culture where food systems rely heavily on animals, so it’s easy to explain the cultural embedding of meat throughout this. As a result, I'm highly conscious of the ways Somali food is rooted in meat, and the ways that we can fall short of delivering delicious Somali food to non-meat eaters. This dish attempts to address some of the ways we can shift towards alternatives while still maintaining the rich fattiness of traditional dishes like hilib. Substituting lamb for cabbage, the process is the same: we salt, sear, cook low and slow, with patience and love.