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All posts tagged kale

the fact of the matter

le creuset with pasta

I am sorry to say I made several mistakes with this recipe—are you ready for this? To start, I didn’t chop the kale ahead of time, so the pieces were huge when they got tossed with the pasta; also, instead of using the called-for full pound, I just used the bag of kale that came in my CSA, which was a mystery to me in terms of weight, and probably much less than 16 ounces; I was almost out of lemon, so I made do with what was left of some squeezed slices in the fridge; and, when it came time to add the Parmesan, I look back and see now that I was a little stingy.

We’re all friends here, so I’ll just be straight with you: I make silly mistakes like these all the time. It’s not at all uncommon for someone to e-mail me a typo or spelling mistake I’ve posted, for example, and that’s not the sort of thing that inspires confidence in a girl who spends large parts of every day writing and editing words at her work desk.

But it gets worse.

kale

A mistake I am always making, for years now, is something maybe too serious to be called a mistake, something more indicative of a strong character flaw and something that relates to this recipe, or more specifically, an ingredient in this recipe. It’s the same force that was at work when I said, not yet in kindergarten, that I would NEVER like dogs after being chased by some, leading to decades of friends putting their pets away for me; in high school, that I would NEVER live with my parents after college, which is exactly what happened; in college, that I would NEVER think camping sounded fun, although now almost five years later, you won’t find anyone who loves being outside like I do. Though my mind does change, eventually, I can be awfully stubborn in the meantime. It’s ugly.

garlic and onions

So it was with kale, that dark and leafy vegetable not unlike spinach, which was not something I grew up eating. Read more…

up and down

kale

Oh, spring.

I have been waiting for you for such a long, long time.

And now that you’re here, you’re playing games with me.

One minute, we’re pure magic—all fresh breezes and warm sunshine. Bailey and I go for an evening walk, his paws trotting past tiny green buds peeking out of the earth and I breathe in the new air, cold and clean, inhaling it down deep and sighing, happy sighing, the kind filled with satisfaction yet anticipation. The next, you’re waking me up in the middle of the night, my eyes swollen and my throat tight, while what feels like a hundred tiny hammers bang against my head and nothing—not the Vicks VapoRub® or the warm compress on my eyes or the two tablets of pain medication—makes me feel well again. I always forget about this part. Every year.

Then, just when I’m ready to give up on you—to say I’ll bide my time and wait for summer’s long, hot days—my mom buys and brings me a neti pot, a small contraption in the shape of a genie’s bottle that, when filled with lukewarm saltwater, clears my nasal passages and frees my airways and makes me breathe again, so I can taste your sweet, windy gusts that burst through my windows, signaling the rainstorm that will come, along with the temperate days and green, green grass.

Spring, I take it all back. I think I love you.

When I look at things clearly, I say you’re like kale. Does that make sense? Kale is dark green, leafy, sold in thick bunches wrapped with bands, filled with promise, the kind of produce you want to take home with you because it’s beautiful and healthy (!) and, you know, there will be a way to enjoy it. Even though it’s usually considered a winter vegetable, kale is easy to find on days like these in March, just like natural light and rainy evenings and smells of charcoal grills wafting through the sky.

But after I’d made a failed winter vegetable gratin and a botched attempt at blanched kale, I was ready to give up on kale. And then.

pieces of kale

First at The Kitchn and then at Robin Sue’s, I saw big promises for something delicious, easy, healthy and impossible to resist. I saw kale chips.

Essentially, this is what you do: Wash your kale and break it into pieces, then toss it with olive oil and vinegar. Lay these pieces flat across a parchment- or Silpat-lined cookie sheet, sprinkle with salt and bake at 400 degrees for 15 minutes.

kale chips

In the fast heat, the kale loses its moisture and becomes crispy, airy, full of the flavors of olive oil and salt. My friend Jackie said they reminded her of potato chips, and a few other testers said they couldn’t get enough. In fact, they’re so surprisingly tasty, you might not even realize you’re eating something filled with vitamins K, A and C, not to mention maempferol, a flavonoid thought to reduce the risk of certain types of cancer.

It’s indeed possible, after having some of these, to find yourself forgetting preconceptions and declaring your affections boldly and loud, kind of the way you might after walking through wet grass, under blue skies, on a day before spring comes, like a girl in love.





Kale Chips
adapted from ChowMama’s recipe posted at The Kitchn

Ingredients:
1 bunch organic kale, torn into 1/2? pieces
3 Tablespoons organic olive oil
1 Tablespoon white wine vinegar
2 teaspoons sea salt

Directions:
Preheat oven to 400 degrees F. Wash kale, and toss it in oil and vinegar until thoroughly coated.

Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper or a Silpat. Place kale on sheet in a single layer and sprinkle with salt.

Bake for 15 minutes or so, until crispy.