It happens every year about this time. My wife, Jane, will casually ask, “Are you going to put in greens this year?” She knows the answer before I say a word. Of course I’m going to put in a sallet patch, just as I have done every year for 40 years.
I tend to forget planting greens every year, because in late summer I’m not in the mindset of planting anything in the garden. But neither one of us can bear the thought of going through the fall and winter without garden fresh turnip greens, curly mustard, kale, rape and broadleaf mustard, known collectively as “greens.”
One morning, even though the thermometer was climbing toward 90 and the humidity was oppressive, I trudged down the driveway pushing the heavy tiller toward the garden. I plant in beds, so I tilled up a 15-foot section, raked it smooth, sprinkled some 10-10-10, and broadcast the tiny seeds. I always rake the bed lightly again and then tamp it down a bit with the backside of the rake. Now, we just pray for rain.
The reason I go to all this trouble is the image in my mind’s eye of going down to the garden in December, when it’s so cold my fingers feel numb as I pick a “mess” of greens for supper, enough to fill a paper grocery bag.
Let me tell you something: If your only experience with greens is those insipid unseasoned turnip greens in a can or maybe on a food hot bar, you won’t believe how good greens that were growing in the garden an hour before they ended up in a pot on the stove can be.
Here’s how to cook them right. Rinse the greens in salted water to wash off any dirt or bugs. Grab bunches of the greens and roll them up like a cigar. Cut the rolls crosswise several times. Put the greens in a big, covered pot of about 4 cups of boiling water.
The only sin worse than not seasoning greens is over-seasoning greens. It’s easy to add so much salt or smoked meat that you overwhelm the unique, wholesome taste of the garden-fresh greens. Boil with a teaspoon of salt and a heaping teaspoon of bacon grease or a small piece of smoked ham hock. Maintain a steady boil, adding water or salt as needed, until the greens are tender. Good greens ought to have a little bite to them. They always get better after the first frost. One taste of good greens and you just know this is what we are supposed to be eating.
While I’m tending to the greens and making real cornbread (no sugar or flour) cooked in a cast-iron frying pan, Jane will be fixing some black-eyed peas and mashed potatoes. We round out the meal with a few thick slices of pork roast.
We serve the greens along with some of the pot-licker in a bowl. The cornbread is for sopping up. Now that’s a meal to savor, and one that makes all the hot, sweaty work in the garden worthwhile.
Dennis Chastain is a Pickens County naturalist, historian and former tour guide. He has been writing feature articles for South Carolina Wildlife magazine and other outdoor publications since 1989.
The post It’s time to plant a sallet patch: Field Notes with Dennis Chastain appeared first on GREENVILLE JOURNAL.