Bitter Ends
Today, we put the garden beds to rest. That meant digging out the thick roots of the marigold bush and the last heads of hearty lacinato kale that relished in the chillier temperatures. The final harvest of kale included the newest, soft leaves and the holey base pads that feed the family of bunnies living under the deck. After a long bath in water and vinegar and a carnival ride in the salad spinner, it was time to separate the leaves from their tough stems.
All season this process has been joyous for me. The freshly washed and sliced greens softening in their lemon juice massage for a salad, blending into my morning smoothie, and wilting over high heat before joining a Saturday morning soft scramble–the separation process has been easeful and exciting.
Today was different. It is below freezing in Chicago so the leaves were cold and frail after a few Fall frosts. Unwilling to say goodbye, the nibbled leaves clung to the stalk leaving my hands a bright shade of green while I flung miniature shreds around me. The evidence of my efforts littering the kitchen floor only increasing my annoyance at this morning task.
After a few bunches with blame building and the pile looming, it was time for a change. I picked up the core of one plant–its light green leaves curling in on the base. I plucked the leaves off one by one leaving their young, soft stems. Rather than wrestle, they rested on my cutting board and I picked up another more robust leaf. I fingered each frond securing the ridges in my hand before gently ripping. Letting go of my stem skinning method, the meat gently disconnected from the stalk. Over and over I thumbed the kale, my mound of shredded leaves growing next to me like the piles I raked in the yard. While my busy mind had no interest in the misery of kale prep, my body settled into the repetitive motion. Finally joining me on a journey towards a Hawa Hassan recipe for Kenyan greens.
I receive this end of season learning as we tuck in our garden beds and retire our bounty to friends, family, and freezer. Kale is hefty and tough, requiring labor and knowledge to receive its hearty gifts. Many Americans learned this during the kale craze of 2008 when Joshua McFadden popularized the ingredient with his, now infamous, raw kale salad. I remember my first bite of kale and how the bitterness lingered on my tongue and the leaves stuck in my throat. I remember my confusion and frustration as piles of my hard work simmered to a single steamed serving. And I remember my own bitterness as I worked to remove any trace stem from my future dinner plans. As I witness my final harvest stew into Sukuma Wiki, I am reminded to honor the heft and toughness of this ingredient, to cultivate knowledge of how to work with it, and to savor the bubbling juices that remain.
Recipes Mentioned:
Raw Kale Salad by Joshua McFadden:
I completed my first read/cook through of his book Six Seasons this past weekend after offering up delicata squash donuts to my book club. Join me in another round of cooking seasonally!
Sukuma Wiki by Hawa Hassan:
Her book, In Bibi’s Kitchen, offers recipes and food stories infused with grandmotherly wisdom of African countries along the Indian Ocean.
Where do you find yourself wrestling with the process?
What makes it easier for you to wrestle and what gets in the way of doing something different?
What intentions are you bringing into the winter? What can we learn from the end of harvest season?
