"Hunker Down Eating"

Whether yesterday's windstorm was a blowout or a blowhard (see photo of the toppled tree in Northeast Portland, below), it's just a harbinger of winter weather to come. This recipe from contributor Jim Dixon of Real Good Food is perfect for cold weather when hardy winter greens like kale and collards are at their best. After the first frost, these plants put out sugars which act as antifreeze and make them sweet and tender when cooked!

During wet and wild weather I want to eat hot, comforting bowls of beans and greens.

Tree toppled in windstorm in Northeast Portland.

If you cook beans a couple of times each week like I do, you'll always have some on hand ready to heat up. Here's how I make the greens.

Basic Braised Greens

I think cavolo nero (aka Tuscan kale) and collard greens taste better than curly kale. My basic approach is to braise them with onion, olive oil, salt and water. The secret ingredient is time; these sturdy greens are best if cooked for at least 45 minutes. More tender greens (chard, spinach, beet, etc) cook more quickly, so they usually just get a quick sauté.

Chop an onion and start cooking it in enough extra virgin olive oil to cover the bottom of your pan (anything with a lid will be fine). While the onion cooks, chiffonade a bunch of greens: Roll several leaves at a time into a tight bundle and cut into quarter-inch slices. Or stack several flat and slice them. I like to cut these ribbons into pieces about 2 inches long for easier eating. It isn’t necessary to cut out the central stalk; you’re going to cook it tender.

Add the greens to the onion along with some salt and at least a cup of water; use more water if you want more pot likker. Cover, reduce heat to simmer, and cook. Check after 20 minutes and add water if needed to keep the bottom of the pot covered (I’ve burned greens more than once; if they're not completely black just say they’re “caramelized"). Let them simmer for at least 45 minutes; longer is okay (but check for water). Drizzle with a bit of fresh extra virgin at the table.

Collards in Salsa Verde? Why Not?

Contributor Jim Dixon of Real Good Food is one of those natural cooks, not restricted to must-dos and must-haves of recipes and unafraid to stray from traditional preparations. No parsley when he wanted to make salsa verde? No problem! He just headed out into his garden.

The cold weather last month trashed my herb garden, so when I wanted to make a last-minute salsa verde for some halibut the only plants showing any green were the sage and rosemary. But my collard greens had survived the freeze, and I thought they might work as a substitute for parsley. I clipped off a few leaves and came up with this.

Collard Green Salsa Verde

Get some water boiling, add a large pinch of salt, and drop in 3 or 4 collard leaves (if you’ve got some winter collards in your garden, you may need more of the smallish leaves). Cook for a about 5 minutes, then lift out and let cool. Squeeze out as much water as you can, then chop into very small pieces (you could use a food processor, but I prefer the texture of hand-cut salsa verde). You should have a cup or more; put the finely chopped greens in a bowl.

Rinse and soak a tablespoon of Pantellerian salt-packed capers*; coarsely chop and add to the greens. Do the same, although maybe dice smaller, to a couple of garlic cloves. I had a lemon, so I added some zest and juice along with plenty of extra virgin olive oil (roughly twice as much oil as lemon juice; use good vinegar if you don’t have a lemon). Add a nice pinch of Pantellerian oregano*, mix well and taste for salt. Serve with fish, pork, eggs, vegetables or almost anything.

* Store-bought capers and dried oregano will substitute for the amazing Pantellerian varieties that Jim carries at Real Good Food, though the flavor will be slightly different.

Howdy Podnah's!

It's a little embarrassing to admit, but despite all the buzz when it opened and the subsequent oohing and aahing over its Texas-style barbecued meats, including some mighty fine Carolina pulled pork, we had never made it into Podnah's Pit Barbecue.

This was made worse by the fact that Rodney Muirhead's original place was only a few blocks, nay, a three-minute stroll from home. That and the fact that the residents of my household are fanatical consumers of anything grilled or smoked. And therein lay my shame.

Fortunately the new location of Podnah's is just a hop, skip and a jump farther away in a brand-new building on a corner of NE 17th and Killingsworth known more for abandoned washing machines, drug dealers and gangbangers than good eatin'. Fortunately on most days now all you'll see is 'cue-loving folks lining up for the smoky goodness of the pork, beef, chicken and fish that have been lounging in the smoker since the early hours of the morning.

Open the door and a wall of that smoky aroma hits you. Take a seat at the counter or at one of the sun-soaked tables in the dining room and prepare to be overwhelmed by the choices on the menu. Not only is there brisket, chili, pulled pork, lamb and pork spareribs, chicken, hot links and trout, but then you have to choose between some kick-ass sides (and these are truly great, believe me) like collards bathed in bacon fat, a sprightly black-eyed pea salad, coleslaw, pinto beans, barbecued beans and mac & cheese. Oh, and cornbread that treads that lovely line between moist and just-crumbly-enough. Talk about the horns of a dilemma!

Because it was a late-ish lunch and we were heading out that evening to see what just-returned Chef Cafiero had managed to cadge from his travels in Spain (post to come), we decided to split an entrée of the brisket (smoked for 10 hours) with two sides and a wedge of cornbread. A couple of beers were de riguer, and Podnah's has a very decent lineup of mostly Northwest choices on tap.

The brisket, with its telltale smoke ring, was four very thin slices of not-yet-falling-apart meat, lovely and smoky though a bit skimpy in the portion department when you think of brisket plates at other barbecue joints. The above-mentioned collards were flavorful and retained enough texture to make me want to do this preparation at home soon, and the black-eyed pea salad with crunchy bits of celery was the perfect brightness in contrast to the smoky brisket.

It actually inspired Dave to stop at the store on the way home to get his own nearly six pound hunk of brisket to smoke the next day. Which is a good reason to stop in again and have another inspiring dish in the near future.

Details: Podnah's Pit Barbecue, 1625 NE Killingsworth St. 503-281-3700.

Farm Bulletin: Giving Thanks

The transition from fall to winter prompts reflection, which might account for Thanksgiving's place on the calendar at the end of November. Contributor Anthony Boutard takes a moment to express appreciation for those who help get his and Carol's goods to market, as well as to take the measure of some of this year's successful crops.

This week marks the last of the weekly markets at Hillsdale Farmers' Market. Next month we assemble but fortnightly. The market starts at 10 am, and is located in the parking lot of Wilson High School.

We do want to take a moment to acknowledge market manager Eamon "Shoehorn" Molloy and the Hillsdale Farmers' Market volunteers. Sometimes you all ask us why we only come to Hillsdale. Our answer: Why mess with perfection? It is a wonderful neighborhood market, and the intimacy that results is why we want to be at the market. Shoehorn and the board have been careful to keep that neighborhood spirit alive, and we appreciate their efforts. Thank you.

The staff at Ayers Creek is regularly joined by volunteer helpers on Fridays. Especially in the winter when our staff is working Copenhaven Nursery down the road and the harvesting falls to the two us, a few extra hands make a huge difference. For the last few years, Linda Johnson helped us harvest winter vegetables. This spring, Linda, a dancer, accepted an appointment at Mills College, so we picked up a new Linda, Colwell that is, who is also a regular at Hillsdale. Linda was joined a family friend, Julia Ruby, who helped with spring planting and is now a freshman at Oberlin College. Last month, sisters Meg and Cate joined us as WOOFERs.

After hearing her mother refer to "the sisters" several times, daughter Caroline asked if we were working with a convent. Meg and Cate Critcos are familial sisters. Meg's dog, Lucy, with a fair portion of pit bull in her, has taught our portly and bandy-legged little dictator, Tito, a few well deserved lessons in manners. More recently, Fridays have been enriched by China Tresemer and Bill Bains. We appreciate the help and, most importantly, the excellent company our friends have provided.

Kale, Collards and Swiss Chard

Like Jack Kerouac (left), chard is a rootless beet. They are the same species, beets and chards, that is. We have worked hard to find a true Swiss Chard with big, white ribs. Unfortunately, this form of the vegetable has slipped into obscurity, replaced by the leaf type chards. We still prefer the type with big stems, and have found a good variety from the Italian seed house Franchi. The white stems on these chards are sweet and tender. The leaf blade is fine for soup, but is incidental to the stem. The stem makes a wonderful gratin, either alone or in combination with potatoes. Alternatively, they are cooked until tender and then added to an olive oil and anchovy-based sauce with thyme, fennel seed, capers and perhaps some garlic. The French also pickle the stems.

And don't neglect the kale. Several years ago, we sat in a presentation where a researcher was talking about the antioxidant qualities of blueberries, blackcaps and blackberries. The tables caught our attention because Chester rated highest among the blackberries. As he summarized the results, he noted that the study illustrated the impressive benefits of eating dark-pigmented berries, adding quietly, "So long as no one compared them to kale." Kale is off the charts in its antioxidant qualities, vitamins, minerals and everything else you might dream of. Of course, there is no kale commission to promote the greens and tout their manifold health benefits. Another example of what Michael Pollan coined "the silence of the yam."

Rutabagas

This is a special white-rooted variety of incomparable flavor and fine texture (top photo). Suspend any judgement you may have made about rutabagas.

For us, this was an accidental discovery. We bought a small package of seed labeled Gilfeather Turnip and promptly forgot to plant it. At the last moment, we sprinkled it at the end of the row because, if no roots formed, the turnip greens would be good. No turnips resulted and we forgot about the it.

Late in February, we noticed some odd-looking kale with a bulbous root. We cooked up the roots and they were absolutely delicious. Suddenly it dawned on us that the turnip was actually a white rutabaga, hence the unrecognized foliage. Eager to grow more, we opened the Fedco catalogue and under the variety it was noted that the seed crop had failed. Fortunately, we had not eaten all of the roots, so we immediately worked the remains of the patch, keeping the big roots and roguing out runts.

The next step was to eliminate any cabbages, turnips or kales growing in our fields. Pollinated by native bees, the various brassicas cross freely, and we needed to keep the seed pure. Fortunately we have good isolation in this valley. We harvested about a half pound of seed. Our first foray into rutabaga seed production proved a success as the plants grew true to type. Enjoy.