Smoky, simple, delicious BBQ sandwiches—that just happen to be meat-free

This plant-based cookout is all about the drama

Ahhhh…BBQ. There’s nothing quite like it. It’s an event—a ceremony. People spend entire afternoons tending the coals, huddling around the grill, and awaiting their succulent prize. The reward in most cases is tender pull-apart meat that’s perfect with a side of baked beans or, better yet, stacked in a sammie. 

We think it’s time for plant-eaters to get in on the spectacle, so this week we’re prepping two meatless mains for your next cookout: one showstopping and slow-cooking and one that delivers big ’cue flavor without having to turn on the grill. We’re tying it all together with a zippy Carolina-style sauce and a quick, creamy slaw. So call your friends and grab a couple six-packs, because it’s time to close down summer, and these veggies are ready to show off.

Part I: This centerpiece veggie plays with fire

It may be a cold-weather crop, but I eat cabbage all year, particularly the in summer when I can grill it. The outer layers get charred while the insides steam to tender perfection. Fair’s fair, though, slapping veggies on the barbie isn’t exactly going to turn heads. So I reached into my memory bank in search of a cookout superstar that could level up the drama, and boy did I find it. Years ago my old colleague Katherine Sacks at Epicurious published a recipe for beer-can cabbage, inspired, of course, by beer-can chicken. It’s exactly what it sounds like: A brewski gets stuffed into a head of cabbage to perfume the veg, a slathering of BBQ sauce helps the outer layers get caramelized and crispy, and the final product shreds up like a pork shoulder. 

Fat cabbage stacks make for a supremely satisfying sando. Credit: Gabriella Vigoreaux

Sorry-not-sorry to report that the first step in this recipe is to drink some beer, because you only need half a can to steam the greens. The can gets crammed into a 3-by-3-inch square hole cut into the bottom of the cabbage. (Reserve the core for slaw, which I’ll get to in a bit.) Once the beer is wearing its veggie hat, the entire show gets a BBQ sauce bath and cooks for an hour on medium-high heat, with quick basting breaks every 15 minutes. 

The reveal when I lifted the grill cover had the desired effect on my dinner guests. The outsides were crispy and caramelized—like a glazed Christmas ham—and folks were fighting over the charred end pieces, though it didn’t come to blows. The smell was sweet and smoky, but nothing like meat, and slicing open the cabbage released an aroma of beer and revealed a perfectly tender middle. 

It may seem like a stunt, but cooking cabbage atop a beer can makes for one satisfying meal. Credit: Gabriella Vigoreaux

Because the veg isn’t sauced on the inside, the shreds needed a quick toss before I piled them onto buns. (Folks who like lickin’ fingers might even want to add a bit more sauce.) I topped the sandwiches with coleslaw made from the core, for a little cabbage-on-cabbage action. If you’re used to cooking with this cruciferous veggie, you know how economical a meal this is. From a 3-pounder, I had enough to generously fill six sandwiches, plus leftovers. 

While there’s no mistaking this roughage for pork, it’s still pretty satisfying and filling, as fiber-rich cabbage tends to be. If you’re after a more meatlike texture, jackfruit—the current it-ingredient—might be more your speed. The prep is less dramatic, but, paired with my tangy sauce and crispy slaw, it delivers an equally satisfying sandwich riff that’s friendly for folks not blessed with a BBQ. 

Part II: Pulled ‘meat’ sandwiches in minutes