The Muddy Kitchen: It's Easy Being Green

Whew, summer! Is it just me or do the longer days act as a vacuum, sucking into existence ten million new things to do everyday? More daylight should mean getting more done, and while we have been doing a lot, it doesn't feel like we're getting much done. Hence the blogless month of June.  But I am grabbing a very squirmy July by the tail. I have something to say and I am carving out time to say it, minute by minute, as I work on tonight's dinner.

That's right, a recipe! But first, some details: I have a summer job. That might be contributing to my overflowing schedule, now that I think about it, but it's totally worth it. I have the best job I could possibly have. I work at my local farmer's market, running a booth that is like a co-op. My neighbors bring what they grow, and I sell it for them. Not only does this generate income for the smallest scale farmers in my area, it supplies our market with a more diverse selection. People grow interesting stuff when they know they'll be using it on a small scale. I mean, Magenta Spreen?

I'm pretty sure we were the only booth in town with iridescent pink leaves last weekend.

Of course, my booth showcases a lot of conventional fare as well. One thing that grows and sells like hotcakes is greens. Kale and chard, mostly. People want to eat them, they know they should eat them, they buy them, they try to cook them, but sometimes they hate them, but they know they should eat them, but they really don't want to anymore. So, regularly, someone dutifully lifts a bunch of great ribbed rubbery leaves from its water-filled bin; and holds it, dripping, aloft, asking, "But, what do you do with it?" That's when I get excited and start talking fast. Because I used to HATE eating greens, but now I LOVE them. I believe this transformation warrants capital letters, and is due to my having developed a method of preparing them which renders them delicious (especially with roasted potatoes.)

Mix It Up: Back where I grew up, this would be called a mess of greens.

It would also be cooked in bacon fat, but now I'm just getting ahead of myself. Look at this photo.

There are five different kinds of leaves here. One thing that always made eating a mess of greens less than appetizing, for me, was that I was usually eating a mess of one kind of green only. Collards and kale, in particular, I never liked. But I can eat them now, because I eat them with a bunch of other plants. When there is a variety of flavors (turnip tops, beet tops, chard, kale, mustard), my mess sings, rather than bash you over the head with one funky or spicy form of chlorophyll.

Separation of Leaf and Stalk: One sacred rule when cooking greens, and a lot of vegetables, is not to overcook them. Removing the thickest portion of the leaf allows it be cooked separately.

For tender stalks, I just trim them off of the end of the leaf. For thicker stalks, I cut the stalk out of leaf a bit.

 This means the delicate leafy part can be cooked later in the process, for less time than the stalks.

Add Allium:                

 This little guy is your secret weapon. 

Who says greens just have to contain greens? Add some chopped garlic, onion, scallion, chives, whatever to your mess before the delicate leafy parts go in.

I put onions with the stalks. The chopped garlic is in its own bowl because I add it a little after the stalks and onions have cooked, a few minutes before adding the leafy parts. Onion turns translucent and sweet when sautéed for a long time, but garlic turns brown and bitter,.

 Flavorful Fat:

 As I mentioned before, bacon fat is the preferred oil for those who prepare greens the old-fashioned way. I use butter, or vegetable oil I've saved from frying.

Meet my girl, Sherry: 

 Well, la-dee-da. Look who thinks she's all fancy. It's the lady who adds a little cooking sherry to her sautéeing leaf stalks, (seasoning with salt and pepper, and letting it cook on med-high for a minute, to remove the alcohol and reduce to a light broth.)

 You might be reading this thinking, "Okay, now you lost me. I'm not one of those fancy 'cooks with wine' people." Neither was I! But then, I obeyed a succotash recipe I read online. Later, another online huckleberry sauce recipe used up the rest of the bottle I bought for the succotash recipe. I bought another bottle as a replacement, without a recipe ordering me to do so, I missed it that much. It's probably in the salad dressing aisle of your grocery store. Get some and get over yourself. You're one of those people now.

When the stalks are tender, add the chopped leafy parts.

The more finely you chop them, the easier they are for little mouths to eat . Turn the heat to med-low and stir constantly, for about two minutes. Then cover and remove from heat.

Sweet and Sour:  Give your greens a stir and a taste. Do they need something? Think sweetener. Sometimes a sprinkled pinch of sugar helps. Or a little acid. Try a splash of balsamic vinegar or squirt of lemon juice.

Last Ditch Effort: This is for those of you who cannot be reached. You did everything like I said, and you still hate your greens. But now you have this mess on your hands, and it'd be nice if you could find some way to get your family to eat it, after which, you swear, you will never never try to eat them again. Parmesan cheese. A handful or two of that has made all the difference with those in our household who are less inclined to love their leafy meal. Beyond that, I don't know what to tell you. Feed it to your chickens.