Why Cabbage’s Moment Feels Familiar: What Kale’s Rise Can Teach Us About Food Trends
Cabbage is suddenly everywhere. From Vogue to the New York Times, it is being framed as the next “it” vegetable. Accessible. Beautiful. Chef-approved. Nutritionally legit.
And the moment I started seeing the headlines, I had déjà vu.
Because we have been here before. With kale.
When Kale Was Just a Garnish
Before the early 2010s, kale was not aspirational. It was not trendy. It was not a superfood.
It was decoration.
Pizza Hut was one of the largest buyers of kale in the United States, purchasing tens of thousands of pounds annually to line salad bars. Kale was used as background filler. Something sturdy and green that made other foods look fresh.
Then, almost overnight, everything changed.
Kale became a cultural phenomenon. It showed up in salads, smoothies, chips, and restaurant menus. Celebrities endorsed it. Food media crowned it the “Year of Kale.” Wellness culture embraced it as a nutritional powerhouse.
The obvious assumption was that some massive industry push must have been behind it.
But that assumption turned out to be wrong.
The Kale Story Most People Missed
One of my favorite podcasts, Why We Eat What We Eat, hosted by Cathy Erway, unpacked the rise of kale. And what it uncovered was far more interesting than a traditional marketing story. (Side note, Cathy Erway please bring this podcast back.)
Kale’s mainstream moment can be traced largely to one person: Oberlin Sinclair.
Sinclair was not a nutritionist. She was not part of a lobbying group or a produce association. She simply loved kale.
After eating it in France, she became fascinated by the vegetable and started placing it everywhere she could while working with restaurants in New York City. On menus. On chalkboards. In conversations. She treated kale as something worth noticing.
Then she created the American Kale Association.
It sounded official. It felt legitimate. It had initials, a name, and a social presence. For a time, people assumed it was real. It was not.
It was a playful, tongue in cheek, guerrilla marketing project driven by curiosity, storytelling, and timing.
And it worked.
Soon kale was everywhere. Michelle Obama was eating kale chips on late night television. Beyoncé wore a “kale” sweatshirt. What started as cultural nudging became a genuine shift in how Americans cooked, ate, and shopped.
So What About Cabbage?
Which brings me back to cabbage.
Is cabbage having a similar moment? Is there a cabbage association or lobbying group behind the scenes? Is this another orchestrated push?
The answer appears to be no.
There is no dedicated cabbage lobbying group. No coordinated PR campaign declaring cabbage the next superfood. No single entity driving this moment (that I know of).
Instead, what we are seeing feels like a convergence.
Chefs are using cabbage as a centerpiece rather than a side. Food media is rediscovering its affordability, durability, and versatility. Wellness conversations are highlighting gut health, fermentation, and whole foods. Consumers are feeling cost pressure and valuing food that stretches further. And farmers are continuing to grow a reliable, storied crop while culture finally catches up.
Cabbage has always fed people well. It stores easily. It shows up across cuisines and cultures. It can be eaten raw, roasted, fermented, braised, or charred. It is both humble and deeply practical.
None of that is new.
What is new is our attention.
Why This Moment Matters
Food trends rarely start where we think they do. They do not usually begin with marketing budgets or glossy campaigns. They begin with people, values, and timing.
Kale did not rise because it was invented in the 2010s. Cabbage is not trending because it suddenly became useful.
These foods were always here.
The question worth asking is not who made cabbage popular, but why now. What does this moment say about how we are eating, cooking, budgeting, and reconnecting with food that feels grounding and familiar?
For me, that is the most interesting part of the cabbage story.
And it is the story I am most interested in telling this year.