Massaged Kale Salad with Mango, Avocado, Cranberries and Toasted Cashews

“I think you’re worried that I’m going to fall of the wagon while you’re in Japan.”

I looked up from my salad, mid-chew, mouth too full to reply.  Roo timed this intervention just right.

“You just seem stressed about leaving next week.”  Roo continued.

Swallowing the last bit of kale, “Well, I’m not worried.”

“You’re not.”

“No, you were never really on the wagon full-time anyway.”

“What are you talking about?  I’m eating this delicious kale salad; a sentence I never thought would ever leave my mouth.  I mean, I’m eating kale. And liking it.”

I put down my fork, “Burger King receipt.”

“What?”

“A Burger King receipt. You left it on the center console.”

“Oh that…that was just snack I got on the way to my mother’s house.”

“A Whopper is a snack?”

“Correction, it was a Whopper Jr.“

Tunisian Soup

The house is strangely quiet tonight.

Roo left an hour ago to meet up with a friend from college at a local bar.

It’s just me, the cats and the sound of rain.

While it would be tempting to have dinner with the tv blaring, staring vacantly at whatever program I happen to come across, I’d rather just sit.

And listen.

Taste.

And enjoy the quiet company that I have.

Mushroom and Wheatberry Soup with Kale

Some New Year’s resolutions may be to lose weight this year.  Others may want to quit smoking.  And maybe a few would like to spend less money.

I on the other hand, would just like to keep the crew from Hoarders from showing up at my apartment doorstep.

My kitchen cupboards are full, full of pantry staples like flours, dried beans, sugars, canned tomatoes and the like.  Unfortunately, it goes beyond that.

Various dried mushrooms? Shitake, porcini and woodman’s blend (whatever that means…)

Hijiki? Shacking up with arame.  They’re besties.

Dates? Sure, but to get to them you gotta push aside the dried cranberries, raisins, golden raisins, apricots, dried cherries…hold on a sec….where did these cacao nibs come from!?

And with the cupboards being filled to the brim, some items have found “homes” in re-usable grocery bags on the floor.  It just needed to stop.

Soup, was the answer.

The flux of warm, re-circulated, dry air in the lab to a drastically different, wet, cold and sometimes windy Boston side-street, has brought on sniffling noses, stiff joints and knuckles begging to be cracked.  Perhaps it’s a lingering bug, but I’m convinced that the constant change has left my body tired and hungry; hungry for warm bowls filled with hearty ingredients and dunkable broth.

Vegetable and Pearl Barley Soup

I’ve been living with Roo for over a year now, and I feel like I have enough data to say that he’s probably a serial killer.  Or an alien…but better looking than Powder of course.

*The fact that I mentioned Powder and “data,” should be far enough evidence to prove something’s wrong with him for staying with me.

Anyways…

1) When I discovered a few grey hairs and told him about it, he said, “I bet you’d look hot with salt and pepper hair.”

Who says that?  No one wants a 30 year old female to go gray.

Except for serial killers.

2) He always tells me I’m beautiful when I wake up in the morning, despite my insisting that I more resemble a Kraken.

Let me state, I am not “beautiful” when I wake up.  My face is oily, my hair that I put in a bun to keep myself from choking on it in my sleep is all mussed up and sitting on the top of my head, and I have the. worst. breath.  Hence, Kraken.

3) When I come home from the yoga studio, always after a practice where I sweat with such ferocity that it goes into my eyeballs (probably the worst thing to experience since you go both blind and your eyes itch), he’ll hug me even tighter saying that I “just smell like Lys.”

What does that even mean?!

I’ll tell you, it means he’s trying to memorize my scent so when he’s hunting me in the woods he can track me better.

4) Whether we’re sitting on the couch in private or at a bar amongst friends, he always has to have some part of his body touching mine.  At first I thought it was sweet when we were first dating, but now I know it’s just to make sure that when his head is turned he knows I haven’t fled the scene as he can feel me beside him.

Oh, I’m onto you Roo.  But for now, I’ll make you a pot of vegetable and pearl barley soup on this windy December day, insisting that it was made with love, despite my hand rattling the ladle against the bowl.

Chunks of potatoes and carrots, amongst the tender chew of pearled barley, net in by sweet kale makes this soup fit for winter.  This dish has hints of earthiness from the addition of rosemary, only to be paired with two other favorite herbs of mine: thyme and bay.  Adding a big hunk of bread to your plate will practically leave little else to be desired for supper.

Except for my freedom from a serial killer.

Roo is not really a serial killer or alien but a really good boyfriend despite my being a giant pain in the ass.

Adapted from Orangette

Serves 4 – 6

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Ingredients

2 – 3 tablespoons of olive oil

1 large onion, diced

Half cup of pearl barley

4 stalks of celery, diced

4 carrots, peeled and diced

4 potatoes (about the size that can fit in the palm of your hand), peeled and cut into one inch cubes

4 cloves of garlic, minced

1 teaspoon of dried thyme

1 teaspoon of dried rosemary

Quarter teaspoon of chili powder

6 cups of low sodium stock (I used homemade)

2 – 3 bay leaves

1 bunch of kale (about a pound), leaves removed from stems and torn into easily edible pieces

Salt and pepper to taste

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Equipment

A sharp knife

A vegetable peeler

A very large pot (or a dutch oven)

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Add the olive oil to your large pot or dutch oven and place on a burner over medium high heat.  When the oil starts to shimmer, add the onion and pearl barley.  Stir the ingredients together, coating them with oil.  When the onions start to soften, and the pearl barley starts to brown, add the celery, carrots and potatoes.  Stir the ingredients together so that they’re well combined.  Continue to cook, stirring occasionally, for about 10 minutes or until they are softened.  Add the garlic, thyme, rosemary, and chili powder, stirring them into the other ingredients till well combined.  Cook them for about about a minute, till well fragrant.  Add the stock slowly, just a little at first, to allow the brown bits to come off the bottom of the pot with a spatula.  Scrape them off the pot’s surface, then continue adding all the stock.  Add the bay leaves and bring the liquid to a boil.

Once at a boil, reduce the heat so that the liquid is at a simmer.  Cover the pot and cook for about fifteen minutes, then add the kale, stirring it into the liquid.  Continue to simmer the ingredients for five more minutes, then check to see if your barley and potatoes are cooked through.  The potatoes should be soft to the touch (be able to poke a fork through easily) and the barley should have a little bit of chew to it.  Season with salt and pepper if desired, then serve.

Butternut Squash Pasta with Braised Kale

I’ve had two butternut squashes taking up shelf space in my kitchen for the past couple of days.  Thoughts of throwing them into another soup and maybe even a cake crossed my mind, as every time I went to make a cup of coffee, there they were.

One of my favorite after work dinners as of late has been pumpkin pasta, and when I made it again on Tuesday, I asked myself, why not a pasta dish with butternut squash?  They were both from the same vegetable family, and have a lovely mellow flavor with a hint of sweetness.  The pasta dish was also a way to use a winter squash variety as a main component, something that Roo insisted he disliked.  But the sneakiness paid off, and like a kleptomaniac, I was absolutely addicted to the idea of getting away with it.

Yes, he is so lucky to have all. of. this. (crazy.)

There are many ways to prep butternut squash, but I prefer roasting, as I can allow it to cook while I work on the rest of the meal.  Roasting also brings out a great flavor in the squash, as the sugars in it naturally caramelize at high temperatures.  Of course, Roo’s main complaint about squash is that it is too sweet, in a dish he believes should be savory.  While I knew roasting the butternut squash would bring out its natural sugars, balancing it out with something bright and acidic, like freshly squeezed lemon juice, was a just another trick I had up my sleeve.  I could not wait to plate up my little brainstorm for Roo and just smile, (for the sake of the relationship, never say I told you so.  Smiling though, totes acceptable.) eagerly waiting for him to tell me it was delicious.

As I’ve said in the past, I love the element of greens swirled in with a creamy pasta dish.  Braised kale isn’t the end all, as you could easily add roasted broccoli or even cauliflower to this and make it just as delicious.  The kale however, works quite well, as the liquid you cook it in can be used to thin the pasta sauce if needed.  However, if you are using a sturdy pasta like penne, then thinning out the sauce may not be necessary (I used spaghetti as that’s all I had).  Also, you may just like thick sauce!  As always, cooking is something I love that people can use as an expression of themselves.  All of our tastes are different, and it’s up to you to use your own senses of smell, taste and sight, to decide what you’d like the final meal to be like.

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Pasta Sauce Adapted from Oh She Glows

 

Braised Kale Adapted, a little, from My Recipe

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Ingredients

For the squash

One small butternut squash, peeled and chopped (about 3 cups uncooked)

1 tablespoon of olive oil

1 pinch of fine sea salt

For the kale and sauce

2 to 3 tablespoons of olive oil

2 medium onions, diced

8 cloves of garlic, minced

2 teaspoons of red pepper flake (this is a bit of heat to be shared for both the kale and butternut squash pasta sauce, so if you’re sensitive to spice, start off slowly, with half a teaspoon)

For the sauce

Three quarters of a cup of cashews

1 cup of unsweetened unflavored almond milk (and extra if you’d prefer to thin out your sauce with this)

1 tablespoon lemon juice

2 teaspoons coarse sea salt

4 – 6 tablespoons of Nutritional Yeast

Half teaspoon of dijon mustard

Half teaspoon of dried Italian seasoning

Quarter teaspoon of ground tumeric (optional)

Pepper to taste

1 bunch of kale, leaves pulled off from stems and torn into easily edible pieces  (make sure to wash it well!)

One and a half to 2 cups of low sodium broth (I used homemade vegetable)

One box (about 12 ounces) of pasta (I would recommend something like a penne, something substantial to stand up to the thick sauce, ie not spaghetti…don’t make my mistake!)

Reserved liquid from braised kale

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Equipment

A medium sized mixing bowl (can hold about 4 cups)

A cookie sheet (line with parchment paper if you hate cleaning dishes)

A large saute pan

A spatula

A sharp knife

A food processor

A big pot

A colander

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Place the oven rack to the middle position in your oven.  Preheat the oven to 400F.

In a medium mixing bowl, add the chopped squash, olive oil and salt.  Toss (I used my hands) until the ingredients are well combined.  Place the tossed butternut squash onto your (lined) cookie sheet, and roast in the oven for about 30 to 40 minutes, depending on how hot/temperamental your oven is.  Check on it halfway though, flipping the squash to ensure both sides get browned.

Pour the olive oil into your large saute pan.  Place the pan on a burner over medium heat.  When the oil starts to shimmer, add the onion, and stir into the olive oil so that all of it is well coated.  Cook, stirring occasionally, until the onions are lightly browned.

While your onions are cooking, throw your part of your pasta sauce together.  In a food processor, add the cashews and process until the nuts become a fine crumb (like corn meal).  Add the almond milk, lemon, salt, nutritional yeast, mustard, italian seasonings, tumeric (if using), and pepper to taste.  Process the ingredients till smooth.  Set aside (in the food processor).

When the onions are lightly browned (oh no, did you forget the about the onions?), add the garlic and red pepper flake.  Stir until well combined.  Cook, stirring occasionally for about another two (until the garlic becomes lightly browned) to four minutes.

Remove the pan from the heat and add half of the caramelized onions, garlic and red pepper flake to the pasta sauce in the food processor.  Set the pan back on the burner, and give the pasta one or two pulses to mix the ingredients back together.

Now it’s time to add the kale and “let the magic happen” (I love the sound kale makes in a sizzling hot pan).  Add the kale in batches (ie only adding enough kale to form a single layer in the pan), tossing it around in the ingredients, covering it in the oil, onion, garlic goodness.  When all the kale has been incorporated (and wilted), add the broth.  The liquid should reach halfway up your greens.  Again, toss the kale in the pan so that it’s been splashed around by all that goodness in there.

When it comes to a boil, reduce the heat to very low to keep the liquid at a simmer.  Cook the kale until it’s no longer bitter and tender.  The broth will be reduced to more than half.  When the kale is done, remove the pan from the heat and set aside.

Cook the pasta according to the box’s directions.  During this time your squash should be ready.

Add the squash to your food processor and process until the sauce is smooth.  Taste.  Does it need more salt?  Pepper?  Adjust the seasonings to your liking.

This. Sauce. Will. Thicken.

So don’t fret dear reader, if it’s not super thick for you yet, just wait.  It’s going to happen.

When the pasta is ready, remove it from heat, drain and rinse with cold water.

No seriously, do this or else your sauce will break when you add the hot pasta to this.

Add the pasta back to the pot.  Add the sauce and kale to the pasta.  Mix.  Is your pasta sauce too thick?  Add either the liquid from the braised kale or almond milk to it.  Taste.  Do you need more seasonings?  Adjust accordingly.

If the pasta is too cold, you can warm it up in its pot on a burner over very low heat.

Spicy and Hearty Potato, White Bean and Kale Soup

Hoo boy, it is definitely October here in Boston!

Rainy cool days followed by the sun setting no longer at eight (goodbye summer solstice), have actually been welcomed here in our little apartment.  While some mourn the loss of their last heirloom tomato, I’m welcoming the leaves turning various shades of precious metals.  The squirrels are becoming even more active, skittering back and forth across the telephone wires that face the back of our kitchen, trying to collect the last of their bounty before cold, cold winter makes our way into the Northeast.

With the recent season change, I want nothing but to bake, eat loads of crusty bread, and dunk said bread into soup.  Lots of soup.  With our recent diet change to a plant based diet, I’m finding that soups are making the transition quite easy.  I love that this particular soup can easily be made on a work night and can last for an entire week’s worth of lunches….if you don’t mind that kind of thing!  And what I especially love about soup is that its flavors get even more complex the next day.

Incredibly warming from the red pepper flake, caramelized onions adding body and depth, with a variation of textures from the kale, cannellini beans, and potatoes, this soup is a cool weather favorite.  If you’ve never tried kale before, this is a great place to start.  The kale is tender, not bitter, and complements the creamy potatoes and cannellini beans.  I love grabbing a bite of everything, and how the kale picks up loads of broth on its leaves, giving me even more of a zing as it goes down.

Spicy dishes are great to remind you that even with summer ending, you don’t have to let go of the heat.  Ladle a serving or two of this soup into a bowl for you and your loved one, and sit a little close to one another on the couch.  Literally break some bread, and eat some love.

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Serves Four To Six

Adapted from Rachael Ray

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Ingredients

3 to 4 tablespoons of olive oil

2 medium onions, diced

3 to 4 medium potatoes (I used Russet), peeled and chopped to easily edible pieces

4 to 6 cloves of garlic, minced (love love love garlic)

Half a tablespoon of red pepper flake (if you’re heat sensitive, start with a teaspoon…I LOVE heat, so the more the better!)

2 bay leaves

1 bunch of kale, (about a pound) leaves removed from stems, torn with hands into easily edible pieces

1 (15 oz) can of cannellini beans, drained and rinsed

1 can of diced fire roasted tomatoes with green chiles (I used Trader Joe’s brand) *again, if you’re heat sensitive, you can use just plain diced tomatoes so you can control the heat

4 cups of low sodium vegetable broth

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Equipment

One large pot

A sharp knife

A spatula/tongs

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Pour olive oil into your pot and place over medium high heat.  When the oil starts to shimmer, add the onions, and cook for about five minutes, stirring occasionally.  When the onions turn golden brown (it may take more than five minutes depending on your burner), add the potatoes.  Cook for about five minutes, stirring occasionally.  Keep an eye on your onions, and make sure you stir occasionally as you want them to caramelize as they cook with the potatoes, but not burn.

Add the garlic and red pepper flake.  Cook until fragrant, about thirty seconds to a minute.

Add the kale in batches, starting to wilt it in the hot oil, onion, garlic mixture.  Turn the kale over, to fully coat it (and even spoon some of those ingredients over the kale) with the hot ingredients in the pot, to help it wilt.  Once the first batch starts to wilt, add the second.  Continue turning the kale over, coating it with the hot ingredients, until all the kale starts to wilt.

Add the bay leaves, beans, tomatoes and broth to the pot.  Stir to combine all the ingredients.  Bring the ingredients to a boil.  Decrease the heat back to low/medium (my burner is extremely strong and it has to be set to very low to keep the ingredients at a simmer and not boil over) and simmer the ingredients for about ten more minutes, or until the potatoes are fork-tender.

Whole Wheat Angel Hair Pasta with Braised Kale

You’re probably wondering why this blog isn’t called, “I Love Kale.”

1) It’s already a blog, and

2) “Night Cheese” was also taken.

Hopefully I’ve convinced some to give my favorite leafy green a try.  I’ll admit I’ve been trying to use it in basically every dinner this winter (and now into spring).  Thankfully Roo eats whatever I make him.

It was a Tuesday afternoon when Roo called me as I was leaving work, to say that he would be driving down to his mother’s house for dinner.  A touch annoyed, because he had forgotten to tell me in advance, I was left wondering what I would make myself for dinner.  I originally planned poaching some salmon, but that fillet was for two people.

Determined not to make it an evening of eating my feelings (and wishing there was a pay per view channel just for women) I opened my fridge to find inspiration.  What looked back at me were bunches and bunches of kale (I buy five at a time every time when I go grocery shopping…I have a problem).  Not wanting the usual that I make as a side, I started going through my cupboards. In the very the back, right behind a bag of shredded coconut, was a box of whole wheat angel hair pasta.  Pasta was exactly the carby comfort I could go for, and thankfully I remembered a recipe in Bon Appétit.  It consisted of everything I wanted: carbs, greens, a touch of cheese and a bit of lemon.

It took only thirty minutes to make, and I “spoiled” myself by poaching an egg to throw on top.

I was so glad that I did.

The runny yolk when mixed with the spaghetti just added another level of ah-mazing to the liquid from the braised greens.

If you’re cooking for yourself tonight, make this.  The runny yolk alone will make you question why you thought you needed to be eating with company.  Who needs company when you can eat by yourself in front of a mirror?  And guess what?  The leftovers are just as delicious reheated the next day.

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Adapted from Molly Wizenberg‘s Column in Bon Appétit

Serves Two as a Main

Ingredients

Three tablespoons of olive oil (for braising)

One bunch of kale (about a pound)

One medium onion, diced (I love onion, if you only like it, use less)

Four to five cloves of garlic, thinly sliced (I love garlic, if you’re only on an “just friends” basis, use less)

One tablespoon of red pepper flake (I love heat…you get it, I know)

At least one cup of low sodium chicken broth/stock (you may need more if the kale gets dry over time)

One quarter of a box of whole wheat pasta (this is what I had left in my cupboard)

Salt (to add to water for boiling pasta)

Two teaspoons of lemon juice (start with one, taste the sauce, then move up to two if you need more acidity)

At least a 1/4 cup of pasta water

Grated parmesan cheese

One poached egg (optional)

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Equipment

A sharp knife

Large saute pan

Large pot

Tongs or spatula

A salad spinner

Colander

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Fill your large pot 3/4 of the way up with cold water.  Salt the water generously.  Put the pot on a burner, cover, and set to high.

While you wait for the water to boil, prep the rest of your ingredients.

Hold the stem of the kale, and pluck away the leaves in bite sized portions.  If there are any leaves that are yellow, or discolored, toss them in the bin.

Wash the leaves and place in a salad spinner and give the kale a good couple of whirls.  If you don’t have a salad spinner, that’s ok, just rinse the kale very well in a colander (kale can have bits of grit trapped within the leaves).  The kale doesn’t need to be bone-dry when adding it to your saute pan, so don’t worry.  In fact, I love the sound the drops of water on the leaves make, when it hits the hot oil in the pan.  It’s strangely addictive.

Splash about 4 tablespoons of olive oil into your pan.  Set your burner on medium.  As your oil heats, dice your onion.  When your oil starts to shimmer, it should be hot enough for you to throw your onion in.  Sometimes, when I’m unsure, I like to take a piece of onion with my tongs and dip it into the oil.  If it sizzles, or if (because you have your “greatness” playlist playing too loudly on your iHome in the background) you see bubbles start to form around the onion, then you know it’s hot enough.

Throw your onion in.  Stir occasionally, and chop your garlic.  When your onion becomes golden brown, throw in your garlic and red pepper flake.  Stir until aromatic.  About 30 seconds – 1 minute.

Throw in the kale.  I do this in batches.  I like to throw in a handful at a time, using my tongs to get the greens covered with the hot onions, garlic, and oil to help it wilt.  When all the greens have been incorporated, slowly add the cup of chicken broth/stock.  It should reach at least halfway up your greens.

Simmer until the the greens are no longer bitter, and are tender (almost sweet, but don’t worry, not that “gross, it tastes like someone added sugar to my veg,” sweet).  Make sure to toss around the kale intermittently so that all the greens are evenly cooked.  It should take about 30 minutes.  Also, the stock should be reduced more than half.  There is usually barely any left for me.  However, cooking times vary.  There have been times when I tasted the greens after thirty minutes, and it tasted great, yet there was still about a cup of stock left.  I decided that it was just going to be a soupy dish.  A soupy delicious dish.  Which is great for the angel hair pasta that you’re about to add.  More sauce = more yum. …Did that sound oddly Rachael Ray of me?  Hopefully she doesn’t come after me…

While the kale is braising, hopefully your pot of water has come to a boil.  At this point, I would start boiling the pasta once the kale has been braising for twenty minutes.  Taste the kale, if it tastes as if it’s almost done (almost tender, not bitter), start cooking the pasta.  As someone who will openly admit to never being able to time dishes together, it’s ok if the kale is no where near done.  The pasta can always hang out in the colander and wait for your kale to cook through.

Add the angel hair pasta to the boiling water, and cook until tender but it still has a bit of substance when you bite into it.  I know, my words are just so useful in describing things (as in not).  When the pasta is done, add it to your braised kale.  I like to add the pasta manually with my tongs.  Because of this, pasta water is automatically added to the braised kale, thickening up the sauce a bit.  If you do not have tongs, or the thought of zero control over the amount of salted pasta water going into your braised kale makes you want to self harm, just drain the pasta in a colander, making sure to reserve at least a 1/4 cup of the water.  You can also drain the pasta if the kale isn’t ready yet.

If you elected to drain the pasta, add it to your kale when the greens have cooked through.  Add two tablespoons of pasta water to the pan and the lemon juice.  Add grated parmesan cheese.  I usually grate about 1/3 of a cup.  Toss everything together until combined.  Taste.  Does it need more acid?  Add more lemon juice.  Too much lemon?  Try adding a bit more cheese and a little bit of pasta water.

Serve immediately, preferably with a poached egg on top, so you can swirl the runny yolk into the pasta.

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*Edited to add, that I’ve liked this dish so much I made it last night!  It was great with some perfectly-ripe off the vine tomatoes.

Barley Risotto (with Kale)

I’m procrastinating going home today because Roo’s friend Hancock (aka Footpenis), and his girlfriend going to spend a few days with us.

Why would this make me want to stay at work?  The girlfriend is one of those that I deemed had, “bitch face,” at the wedding we went to a few months back.

This could be one of those times where I could put my “big girl pants” on, cook a lovely dinner with a happy (yet creepy, because fake happy = creepy) face, all the while making great conversation because I’m the perfect half-asian hostess.

I am not the perfect half-asian hostess.

I’m the neurotic poodle that sits in the back of the room and eats her own hair in a frenetic state; like I’m drowning, and the hair is my air.

And even though some, some may find the poodle adorable, most want to smack it across the nose with a rolled up piece of newspaper.

But lucky for you, my neuroses, I mean, procrastination, means I can actually write up the barley risotto recipe that I promised I would get to.

See, procrastination can work.  Although, it’s been four days since my last post because of procrastination. But never mind that.

Adapted, quite a bit, from Food and Wine

This barley risotto is delicious just by itself.  Although, I implore you, the greens make this dish So. Much. Better.  The barley has a slight chew and the kale is incredibly tender.  Those two mixed in a creamy sauce makes this my “go to” cold weather dish.

Ingredients

3 Cups Low Sodium Chicken Broth

1 medium onion, diced (I love onion)

1 – 2 cloves garlic, thinly sliced (and I also love garlic)

1 teaspoon dried thyme (this may be too “thymy” for some, so start with 1/2)

1/2 cup pearled barley

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 bunch of kale (optional), leaves ripped off stems, into bite sized pieces

Equipment

Sharp knife

Large saute pan (one with tall sides)

Spatula

Medium saucepan

Ladle

Over medium-high heat, pour 3 cups of chicken broth into a medium saucepan.  Cook until it simmers, then remove from heat.

Add olive oil to a large saute pan and place over medium-high heat.  When the oil starts to shimmer, add onion and cook till translucent.  Add thyme and garlic, and cook till fragrant (about a minute).  Add barley to the whole mix.  Still stirring every so often, cook until the barley starts to pick up a bit of golden color.  Ladle in one cup of chicken broth.  Stir until the almost all the liquid is absorbed.  Keep adding the chicken broth, one cup at a time, until you have one cup of warm chicken broth left in your medium saucepan.  If you opted to use kale, add both the kale and the last cup of broth to the saute pan.  If you do not wish to use kale, add the final cup of broth, and again, stir, until the almost all the liquid is absorbed.

Serve immediately.

Braised Kale

I love kale.

But, I’ve never known about it until this past fall.

I guess I’m a late bloomer?

It was a random facebook status update by my friend, Anina, that peaked my interest. I’ve always passed by the “greens” section at the market, wondering what people did with chard, kale, and what the heck is escarole?!  It looked like lettuce, but not.

With Anina’s help, she suggested I make the Plain Jane recipe from Orangette, but add red pepper flake.  After that, I was hooked.

To anyone who has experienced the horror of frozen, chopped spinach, boiled to death, I urge you to just try.  Please try.

Roo was, well, hesitant when I placed this down in front of him.

He loves prosciutto, has never turned down an egg, but the greens.  The greens were making him question why I was calling this “dinner.” But he tried it and now is a believer.

In fact, when I told him we were having rib eye and rosemary potatoes for dinner yesterday, he asked what were we “having for veg?”  I told him he could choose between kale or green beans, and he picked kale.

Yes.

What I love about this recipe in particular is that the greens are simmered in stock.  This adds a certain richness to the dish (and rids the greens of its bitterness).  The leaves still have texture, and to place a poached egg on top is amazing.

There’s always something about cutting into a runny egg that makes my eyes open wide.  I love watching the yolk as it slowly makes its way down the little mound of greens.  And to swirl it up on your fork, being sure that the prosciutto gets caught up in it, makes this dish a regular in our kitchen.

Adapted from Orangette

I’ve used red chard, green chard, red kale, green kale, dinosaur (lacinato) kale…  Roo prefers kale, I love chard.  Choose what you like.  Do it.

Ingredients

Olive oil (about 4 tbsps)

2 bunches (approx. 1.5 pounds) of (insert green)

1 large onion (don’t like too much onion?  Grab a small one. )

red pepper flake (I use teaspoons. But to start, try a half teaspoon)

garlic cloves (I use four to five. Start with one or two.)

2 cups low sodium (chicken) stock or broth (And please use low sodium.)

Equipment

large sautè pan (I like one with tall sides to keep everything in)

spatula/tongs

salad spinner (this investment will change your life!)

I tend to be a little “rustic,” as Roo puts it, when I prep my greens.  I literally hold the long stem of the plant, then start plucking away the leaves in bite sized portions.  If there any parts that seem wilted, tear them off and throw them away.  The cats actually hover near my feet to get any dropped leaves, and if I miss the garbage bin, they always beat me to picking it off the floor.

…our cats are weird.  But that’s another blog post.

Place the leaves into a salad spinner, and taking the inner basket, wash the leaves well.  I’ve had a problem in  the past with kale bringing grit into whatever dish I was adding it to.  Thankfully with the purchase of the salad spinner, I haven’t had the issue since.  Chard has never been an issue, but just be sure to rinse and dry whatever you’re prepping by hand, well.

Spin your spinner.  When it stops, take the inner basket out with your leaves and set aside.

Splash about 4 tablespoons of olive oil into your pan.  Set your burner on medium.  As your oil heats, dice your onion.  When your oil starts to shimmer, it should be hot enough for you to throw your onion in.  Sometimes, when I’m unsure, I like to take a piece of onion with my tongs and dip it into the oil.  If it sizzles, or if (because you have your “greatness” playlist playing too loudly on your iHome in the background) you see bubbles start to form around the onion, then you know it’s hot enough.

So, throw your onion in.  Stir occasionally, and chop your garlic.  When your onion becomes golden brown, throw in your garlic and red pepper flake.  Stir until aromatic.  About 30 seconds – 1 minute.

Throw in your (insert green).  I do this in batches.  I like to throw in a handful at a time, using my tongs to get the greens covered with the hot onions, garlic, and oil to help it wilt.  When all the greens have been incorporated, add your 2 cups of chicken stock.  It should read about halfway up your greens.

Simmer until the the greens are no longer bitter, and tender.  It should take about 30 minutes.  Also, the stock should be reduced more than half.  There is usually barely any left.  However, cooking times vary.  There have been times when I tasted the greens after thirty minutes, it tasted great, yet there was still about a cup of stock left.  I decided that it was just going to be a soupy dish.  A soupy delicious dish.

So don’t freak out of if your greens taste great and you have too much liquid left in the pan.

To serve I would place a mound of greens on a plate and top with a poached egg.  And prosciutto.  And if you’re feeling really awesome, grate some fresh Parmigiano Reggiano on top.

When I first made the original recipe from Orangette, it said that it served four.  But believe it or not, it serves one hungry Roo and LLN.  I have also been known to polish off an entire bunch (3/4 to 1 lb) of greens myself for dinner.

But we’re gluttons.  I mean, sexy.