German sauerkraut originated in China; was brought to Europe's doors by Genghis Khan; was adopted by the Germans; and it tagged along a massive German migration to America in the 19th century.
My Grandma Weber kept the Old World recipe and made sauerkraut in her cellar.
Despite being a culinary globetrotter, this 'sour cabbage' is definitely German.
Chinese fermented cabbage in rice wine as far back as 200 B.
C.
Genghis Khan's armies were stopped on the eastern borders of Poland and Hungary in 1241.
They left behind this 'sour cabbage' that fed their armies across Asia, but never spoiled.
It was not long before the Germans adopted this Asian dish, calling it sauerkraut.
Following the Revolutions of 1848 in the German States, thousands of German refuges arrived in American all the way up to World War I.
Among them was my Great-great-great grandfather, Michael Weber, in 1858.
Many customs and traditions were passed on including the recipe for sauerkraut.
Grandma Weber sprinkled salt, not rice wine, on chopped cabbage, and stored them in date-marked jars in her cellar.
Salt pulled the water out of the cabbage and the mixture fermented, giving sauerkraut its distinct texture and taste.
Sealed jars lasted for months without refrigeration.
Sauerkraut is nutritious with plenty of Vitamin C and Lactobacillus - a producer of lactate acid that fights harmful bacteria in our system.
Of course what is added to sauerkraut diminishes its benefits:

• Germans add pork or bacon.
  Pork and sauerkraut is considered good luck at German New Year's celebrations;
• Jewish recipes substitute duck or goose;
• Grandma Weber sliced hot dogs, which she called frankfurters, in our kraut.
  

In Germany sauerkraut joins spaetzle as ideal side dishes for beef, pork, poultry, game, and fish.
Because of the huge number of German Americans, one would think U.
S.
and German food customs should be similar.
Yet, we Americans put mayonnaise in our chopped cabbage while our German counterparts pour mayo on their pommes frites.