Originally I was planning on making caramel apples for my October new dish. Circumstances happened otherwise and just in under the wire (Oct 30th as a matter of fact) I documented my second attempt at cooking up some greens.
I remember seeing cooked collards/greens at various functions throughout my life, though I do not remember trying them. Perhaps the one time I was adventurous they were bitter, or tough, or too chewy like the mustard greens I made last week. Or maybe I just didn't like the color, or that they had been cooked for hours. There was a reason, even if it was a child-brain-this-is-how-the-world-works-reason.
Ian says the reason I
think I don't like so many foods is because I haven't had them cooked well. Ian is persistent in encouraging me to try new foods, with a solid track record of success. He makes the best brussel sprout curry every. Things I'll eat much more readily than when I first met him include: brussel sprouts, mushrooms, squash, anchovies, okra and black eyed peas, the list goes on.
He has a very broad palate (a word that I had to look up how to spell, what do you mean you don't spell it pallette?) and will eat anything except for -aises. No mayonnaise, no hollandaise, etc. etc. Everything else he will eat, especially if it is set in front of him. It takes the pressure off of trying out new dishes. Like last week when I thought I was making the mustard greens correctly (granted this was an entire
day after I had received a verbal recipe from Ian), the only part I got correct was how you're supposed to cook them a long time, we both still ate them, the chewy kind of grossness of them. I then said "We have to plan greens in for next week so I can try again... while what-not-to-do is still fresh in my mind."
We picked up not one, but two bunches of collards at the store because Ian was sure that one bunch would be just one serving. We still had the can of tomatoes (because I had forgotten they were supposed to go in with the mustard greens for cooking), and we had onion and garlic left. I got a review of the verbal recipe:
"Use a big stockpot, chop the greens in strips about this wide (finger and thumb about an inch apart), sauté the onion and garlic in the bottom , turn down the heat . . . put the greens in, put the can of tomatoe (tom and chili in this case) on top of the greens, maybe add some additional water, and simmer for hours, stir occasionally, check them every so often to make sure there is enough liquid," Ian told me.
"How much liquid do I put in?" I asked.
"Enough so they steam, but they don't have to be covered or anything," he replied. (I've been practicing my cooking sans recipe so this kind of vague instruction didn't irk me like it once would have)
While the greens came out great, delicious, I think the real hero was the can of tomatoes with chilis. It added the perfect spicy tang into the greens. Also Ian got home just in time to remember to put in some apple cider vinegar and the greens cooked for another hour. (here, Ian deftly made the squash. A little pie pumpkin cut in half, innards scooped and put innards down in a pan with water. When they got soft about an hour later, he flipped them over, sprinkled with brown sugar and chopped almonds and broiled for a few minutes)
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| I had a feeling Ian had overestimated the quantity for two servings. |
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| I am becoming a sauté master. |
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| Cutting the collards into strips. It was fun to roll them all up together and slice through the whole bunch. |
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| This is the most giant stock pot we have and when first put in, the greens came all the way to the top! |
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| After over an hour of cooking, the greens only take up about 2 inches in the pot. |
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| The greens were delicious and the pumpkin was too. The pumpkin made the potatoes seem extraneous. |
Ian and I were both delighted in how good the collards came out. They were delicious! Ian said they were top 5 that he's ever had. I know he means it too. He doesn't just say stuff like that. With the way he likes his southern cooking, I know he's had his fair share of greens and I accept the compliment and store it in my favorite compliments box.
Complete success and with no recipe! This particular experience is part of shifting a larger paradigm. I have never readily tried new things because I would worry that I wouldn't be good at it right away. I hate being wrong, and not being good at something, is being wrong, in my brainpiece. I've never been a big fan of having
to learn how to be good at something. I can learn how to go from good to awesome, that's fine! But having to accept that I'm
bad at something and then improve to acceptable. . . ugh. . . total esteem killer, I just rather pretend I never tried it in the first place. I don't know when/where I learned that as a kid, but big Rachel thinks that's totally bogus!
So while trying again at cooking some greens is a small little bit of my life, it is a good experience in: trying something new (cooking greens), not being good at it right away (chewy, gross greens first go 'round), and then, instead of giving up. . . trying again and learning how to improve the result (super delicious collards). Another positive part of this is that when the mustard greens were gross, it was okay. I didn't beat myself up for cooking gross greens. That's just what happened and I learned how to make it better. That's one more
table leg for the belief that "it's okay to not be good at something the first time you try it." I've also told myself that it's okay if the next time I cook greens, they aren't as delicious as those collards, it'll be a tough act to follow, for sure.
In November look for a dish from the road.
