LaBelle is a world away from the Florida with which we're familiar, which is perhaps why we were so intrigued by the Swamp Cabbage Festival. We've also got a soft spot for country festivals replete with interesting foods, and this certainly fit the bill.
Never heard of swamp cabbage? Neither had we. It's the heart of the sabal palm, which also happens to be the state tree of Florida. This designation means that you can't just cut down a sabal palm to cut out the heart; there are all sorts of permissions to get and administrative hoops to go through. It's nice that the festival organizers took care of all of that stuff for us.
A full account, with photos, is after the jump.
The festival was packed. This is obviously a big deal in the area. There were classic cars, motorcycles, a bluegrass band, a roaming Swamp Cabbage festival beauty queen and lots of arts and crafts, particularly Seminole jewelry. There were armadillo races and a rodeo, but unfortunately we missed both events. And of course, there was food. Lots and lots of food. Our first taste of swamp cabbage came from a huge pot of simmering hearts of palm and pork. We expected it to taste something like the hearts of palm that we buy in jars at the store, but this stuff is different, mainly because it hasn't been brined like the store-bought kind. And despite the greyish unappealing color, this dish was actually quite tasty. We definitely preferred it to the swamp cabbage fritters, which we thought were mediocre. 
Really, anything battered and fried can't be that bad, and these fritters had little bits of pork inside working to their advantage. But the batter needed something else, like a nice hot chili pepper, and the swamp cabbage's texture was a bit too ... leafy. It definitely needed a bit more softening before hitting the deep fryer.
Other culinary highlights of the festival included boiled peanuts (we made a beeline for that cart as soon as we saw the sign), alligator fritters (didn't get a chance to try those) and tacos. We had read about Indian fry bread before the festival and were hoping to try some there; sure enough, we found a booth whose sign proudly proclaimed "Iona's Fry Bread." The line was long, which was a good sign. This woman clearly had a following.


The woman on the right was kneading the flour dough and forming it into discs, while the one on the left took the discs and dropped them into hot oil, where they almost immediately puffed. When they were golden brown, she'd lift them out. You could get the fry bread by itself, with a fruit filling, as a taco, or with sausage.
We had a hankering for some sweets, so we asked for it stuffed with cherries. The bread was bursting with them; it was huge, and we couldn't finish, but that bread was great. Wonderfully chewy and surprisingly light, given the fact that it had been fried in lots of oil. Next time, we're skipping the fillings.
We made one more food stop, inside a store that had a sign outside that just said "HONEY." That's all the advertisement we need. It's the retail store for LaBelle-based Harold P. Curtis Honey Co., which gets honey from bees that pollinate plants like mangroves, seagrapes, palmetto trees, orange blossoms, and wildflowers. We were initially drawn to the dark mangrove honey, but when we tried it, we found it resembled molasses a bit too much for our taste. The palmetto honey, our favorite, was the lightest and smoothest, while the seagrape tasted a bit like a cross between the two.
Oh yeah, and we almost forgot: we took home some pickled swamp cabbage. It's soaking in vinegar and a bit of jalapeno. That should last us until next year's festival.
The Swamp Cabbage Festival [Official Site]
Cabbage, Swamp [University of Florida IFAS Extension]