Collard Greens

A few years ago, at Easter, in addition to the usual spread of ham and sides, I made a gratin of white beans, country ham, and collards from Frank Stitt’s very fine Southern Table cookbook. That dish, which everyone raved about, and the leftover ham bone—a prized ingredient that should never, ever be put to waste—inspired this low-on-the-hog soup.

We first developed this recipe as a side for a vegetarian dish we were serving at Bayona. We wanted to create the traditional smoky pork flavor of southern greens without using pork. That’s when we thought about smoking the onions. The smokiness imparts a tremendously satisfying and “meaty” flavor, but if you want to prepare this dish in the real southern way, don’t hesitate to throw some bacon, ham, or salt pork in the pot. Also, we tend to cook ours a little drier (mainly for presentation, so it plates up neater), so if you want more pot liquor, add more water early on.

Collard greens are a point of southern pride. Any barbecue or soul food restaurant worth its salt has a place for these mustardy-flavored greens. In the South, collard greens are typically cooked with a ham hock or smoked turkey wings to give a great smoky flavor to the greens and the broth—or pot liquor as it is referred to in local parlance. You can definitely add either to this recipe, but I like to use chipotle chiles to give not only smokiness but also a little heat to this dish. I prefer my collard greens to retain some bite and cook them until tender, not to melting. The greens have a natural sweetness that is both accentuated and balanced by the finishing splash of apple cider vinegar. Sweet, smoky, and slightly vinegary, these collard greens definitely deliver a touch of soul to the table.

Many people think the term porterhouse refers to the size of the steak, but that is not the case. Porterhouse is an on-the-bone cut with a portion of the flavorful strip on one side of the bone and the tender filet on the other. With its lacquering of barbecue sauce and side of a corn–collard green tart, this dish is an ode to the South. The Carolinas are fanatical about mustard-based barbecue sauces. Mustard lends a tangy heat that is offset by dark, sweet molasses, and both are mellowed by mild honey and light rice wine vinegar. This barbecue sauce is as at home with lamb as it is with the smoked pork of the Carolinas. The tart’s savory filling is basically a corn pudding run through with strips of collard greens.

Take a break from cooking and make a satisfying meal from raw fruits and vegetables. This drink takes about twelve minutes to make from start to finish. It’s a great way to get your greens without any work, and I like the slightly fibrous texture the greens impart. The smoothie is good for two days if you want to have it for a few meals. After storing it overnight in the refrigerator, just reblend it for a few seconds. As different fruits come into season, try berries instead of oranges, or a ripe peach instead of the banana. In hot weather, blend in several ice cubes.

In the summer, we’d sit on the porch shelling the black-eyed peas that Dede had picked that morning. The purple hulls dyed our fingers smoky violet. I’ve used frozen black-eyed peas to prepare this soup, but don’t use canned, as they are too soft. If using frozen peas, reduce the cooking time according to the package instructions or until the peas are tender. Note that the dried peas must soak overnight or have a quick soak. Don’t skip the essential step of simmering the ham hocks in the chicken stock. The flavor and aroma are what makes this soup extraordinary.

You simply won’t believe your mouth when you taste these greens. They smell like bacon, and taste a lot like bacon, but there is no bacon. The flavor comes from smoked salt. In its pure state, salt is a simple chemical compound, sodium chloride. There are many types of salt from all over the world that contain different elements and minerals. But things get really “fired up” when salt is smoked. The best ones are slowly smoked over a natural fire, often made of used oak barrels recycled from making wine. The smoke permeates the salt crystals, infusing them with a rich, distinct smoked taste, and transforms their color from a light toasty brown to deep amber. This ingredient adds a unique flavor to a wide range of dishes, including beef, pork, duck, chicken, and fish. I use it most often in Southern-style vegetables, to replicate that smoky taste evocative of hog jowl or bacon without the fat, and it is great for vegetarians. Other favorites that I prepare with smoked salt are black-eyed peas and butter beans. If you can’t find smoked salt (available online and at specialty markets), you have permission to use bacon.

Some traditional Southern cooks swear you have to cook your collards all day long. This recipe has a great silky, tender texture and good bacony flavor, but you don’t have to quit your day job to make it. Collards also pair well with Double Orange Pork Chops (page 24) and Down-Home Pinto Beans and Ham Hocks (page 127).

My favorite firework is the Friendship Pagoda. A little bright yellow house spins ’round like a top, emits sparks, and then up pops a pagoda and a little light glows within. My son Joe’s best first-grade friend is named Edison Seto. They make quite a pair. I love to see them out at recess walking with arms slung over each other’s shoulder. Joe has had friends, of course, before first grade, but they were all friends of the family. Edison is the first friend he has made on his own. It looks as if Joe is a good judge of character, for Edison is as sweet as can be. Edison lives in the family’s New Sunlight Market with his parents, grandparents, and tiny sister, Grace. Joe loves to play over at Edison’s. I would too; they get to ride their scooters up and down the aisles, snagging Little Debbie snack cakes for each lap. Edison’s family is from China and this has turned Joe into quite a fan of anything the slightest bit Chinese. This soup was inspired by their friendship and by the fine collard greens from the New Sunlight Market.

Collard greens with bacon or ham are a classic—spicy, smoky, and tender in an addictive savory broth. Most recipes splash in some vinegar to add a little tang and balance the bitterness of the greens. Soy sauce adds a different spin to this Southern staple. Try this alongside Thyme-Smoked Four-Inch Porterhouse Steak (page 168) or Whole Roasted Chicken with Plumped Raisins, Toasted Pine Nuts, and Arugula (page 142).

The ideal size for the collards here is nine inches long. If substituting larger leaves, blanch them a bit longer and continue to sauté them until tender, adding a little water or stock if necessary.

Superstition across the southeastern United States holds that eating hog jowls, collard greens, and black-eyed peas on New Year’s Day will make a person healthy, wealthy, and wise. Hog jowl, which is the cheek of a pig, is a flavorful and fatty meat that is usually cured or smoked. Hard to believe a food as rich and fat-laden as hog jowl is linked to health and prosperity. These meager foods have always been a symbol of plenty for people who are often very poor. The “good-luck” traditions of black-eyed peas in the Southern United States date back to the Civil War, when Union troops ravaged Southern lands, destroying crops and taking all livestock. All that was left were black-eyed peas, which were considered to be fodder for horses and other animals; as a result, many Southerners subsisted on this protein-rich and hearty legume.

Big Bob always had a standing policy at his restaurant that when you were on the clock you ate for free. Some companies give their staff stock options; Big Bob always gave his staff real Southern fixings. Many staples of the staff meals were not offered to the customers and it was not uncommon to walk into his restaurant and smell fried chicken, sweet potatoes, or catfish cooking. Thank God hickory smoke usually trumped any other aroma or Big Bob Gibson Bar-B-Q might have turned into Big Bob’s Southern Kitchen. While turnip greens have never graced the menu at Big Bob Gibson Bar-B-Q, they were cooked almost as often as any side dish on the menu. Always made with the restaurant’s smoked slab bacon, this recipe showcases the simple delight of seasoned greens. Pair them with black-eyed peas, fried potatoes, and cornbread to taste a typical employee meal in Big Bob’s kitchen.

For a simple supper, we can’t imagine adding anything to this dish other than sliced tomatoes, zydeco music, and a little two-step.

This chunky soup is a satisfying supper in one bowl.

You can make the sauce with other fruit spreads, such as peach, apricot, or strawberry. Make extra sauce—it will keep in the refrigerator for several weeks.

Gina: I’m always surprised to discover that folks in these parts tend to cook turnip and mustard greens more often than collard greens. I think the perception is that collards tend to be a little bitter. But I gotta tell you, you’re sleeping on this one! Rich in vitamins and nutrients, collard greens are actually the sweetest, best-tasting leaves you can buy (turnip and mustard greens, on the other hand, have a slightly spicy, peppery taste). In this recipe, the deep, full flavor of the collard greens along with a bit of sugar and some heat from the red-pepper flakes create an irresistible sweet-and-hot pot of goodness, while the ham hocks add a note of smoke that balances out the other flavors. Pat can’t get enough of these sweet greens. Trust me on this one, ladies—this is the recipe that’ll bring your man home every night! Five bunches of collards might seem like a lot of greens, but these jokers will cook down to a fraction of their original size.

Gina: My friends call me the collard-green queen—I love to cook them up any and every way imaginable. So it was only a matter of time before I decided to replace spinach with collards in the classic artichoke dip. Ohmigoodness, the results were even better than I anticipated. If you want to surprise your friends with something delicious and unexpected, this is the appetizer to prepare. You can buy baked pita chips to serve with this dip, but they’re so fun and easy to make that you might just want to do it yourself (which also gives you a little more control over the amount of salt and oil used). This dip goes well with salsa and sour cream on the side.

One of my cousins was married to a Kashmiri gentleman, and for the period when he was working at the United Nations in New York he had brought along a manservant. My cousin let me have him once a week to cook and clean. His repertoire was limited—he could only cook dishes he had learned from my cousin, such as this simple Kashmiri staple, which we loved. Soon he was making it week after week, and it remains one of our favorites. In Kashmir, collard-type greens and rice are eaten as commonly as beans and rice in Central America, the season for them lasting from spring (when the greens are tender) until the snows start to fall in early winter (when the greens get coarser). Note: Young greens will cook faster. So if you are using them, start with half the stock and add more if needed. Serve with rice and either a dal or a meat curry.