A few weeks ago, I received a head of cabbage in the CSA vegetable box. I've started to take a sort of artistic approach to the farm box. As I unpack it, I look at each piece of produce and try to imagine how it would taste best. When I got a bag of yellow wax beans, I could taste a dish my family has come to call GG beans.

My grandmother would steam the beans while she melted some butter and browned some Italian breadcrumbs in the butter. She would then mix the beans in the breadcrumbs, creating a simple, and yes, fattening, dish that to this day is the quintessential flavor of summer produce for me.A juicy, red tomato, still warm from the sun, just deserves to be served between some fresh bread, mayonnaise and a slice of Cooper sharp cheese. Summer squash and zucchini together with a red bell pepper call for a chicken scampi recipe shared by a dear friend for my wedding shower recipe box. A head of broccoli says chicken and broccoli stir fry to the kids.Back to the head of cabbage: As I stood there palming the smooth, green, leafy ball, I debated a healthy vegetable soup, or maybe some haluski, but I didn't have all the additional fresh veggies I needed for the soup, and I didn't feel like chopping onions to go with the cabbage and noodles.What else to do with a large, perfect head of cabbage? As I started peeling away the outer layers, getting ready to chop it up, the leaves seemed too perfectly formed to slice and dice. I suddenly started getting hungry for some good, old-fashioned halupkis (aka golumpki, pigeon, cabbage roll or pig in a blanket). I feel like a failure to my heritage, but I have never made halupkis before.If you're not familiar with the Coal Region classic, a traditional halupki is a combination of ground meat and rice, formed into a ball and rolled up in a cabbage leaf, like a little gift, and then cooked in a tomato sauce. It seems simple, right? Well, I made the mistake of asking my Facebook friends for a "simple" recipe. Turns out, there is no such thing.First, I got several suggestions for halupki soups and casseroles that were guaranteed to be all the taste in half of the time. Part of me is glad that today's busy cooks are finding ways to incorporate traditional dishes into everyday meals, but another part of me is sad that we are losing the care and love and human touch that goes into a dish that can take all day to prepare.I was looking for what I call "church lady" halupkis. Sadly, as more and more of our churches in the area close, we are losing the fabulous ethnic festivals that guaranteed we could eat these old-fashioned dishes every weekend all summer if we wanted to.Second, I got several recipes sent to me that started with an ingredient list that read something like five heads of cabbage, 40 pounds of ground meat, and 5 pounds of rice.While I had no doubt that these recipes would yield exactly the outcome I was looking for, I knew that this was going to be an experiment with my kids, and I didn't want to end up with enough halupkis to feed an army.I thought I had found the perfect recipe when a friend who was originally from the area, who now lives in New Orleans, sent me a photo from a cookbook that had been compiled by a local radio station in the 1970s. The recipe had been submitted by none other than my Wonderful Husband's paternal grandmother. My jaw dropped! It was clearly a sign. I had my recipe, a true "church lady" recipe with a family connection, all the way from one of the food capitals of the world!However, the recipe called for mixing sauerkraut with the tomato sauce. No sooner had I expressed my enthusiasm for the newfound recipe, than my phone exploded with a text message from a fellow foodie friend."You CANNOT put sauerkraut in halupki!" she said, "It's sacrilege!" This friend also informed me that the first step in her own halupki preparation was to core the cabbage and freeze it. After defrosting it, the leaves would be soft and malleable, and would save the time-consuming step of boiling them and waiting for them to cool, as it could be popped out of the freezer in the morning and ready to roll by the time I got home from work.With well over 50 responses to my original request for a halupki recipe, as well as several private messages, I was overwhelmed to the point of indecisiveness. Although every recipe followed the same basic recipe, there were subtle differences in seasoning and cook times and what to add to the sauce. Some recommended baking, some recommended cooking in a Dutch oven on the stove top, and some went the route of the slow cooker.I haven't gotten around to executing my halupki experiment yet, but when I do, I think I'm going to start with the recipes that start with "this is how my grandmother used to make them …" or else, I'm going to take people who offered to show me how, because it's not a "written recipe."When it's all said and done, I hope I have a pot full of tradition that I can pass on to my kids.Liz Pinkey is a contributing writer to the Times News. Her column appears weekly in our Saturday feature section.