Collard me happy

I fell in love with collard greens this evening, with winter gardening in general, I suppose. Hear we cozily sit, inside... in the comfort of our heated homes. And yet out there, in bone-chilling temperatures, things are reaching up towards the sun and growing just so we can eat them. Wow, Earth—thank you. I know it's silly to attribute personal favors to plants, but as I bent over the collards and trimmed a few leaves for dinner tonight, I thought, "Thank you for staying out here in the cold. You must really like us."

And the collards aren't just surviving, they're thriving. I was able to better inspect the leaves back inside the kitchen, and what a bunch of flawless beauties. As I rinsed them in the sink I thought to myself that they'd surely win some kind of agricultural beauty pageant if I chose to subject them to such things. Blue ribbon collards, that's what's happening in my backyard at the moment.

And tonight I also experienced that feeling that gardens can sometimes give—a connection to a person or place from the past. Our first home was in Chattanooga, making our very first neighbors an elderly couple, the Quinns. The Quinns had lived on our hilltop for decades, farming in their backyard. Their magnificent garden is something we will always aspire to and a different story entirely, but the point to mention here is that Mr. Quinn brought us bags and bags of his surplus collards every year. I had never eaten or even attempted to cook collards before, but when neighbors brings you something from their garden you have to honor their efforts, right?

The collard greens recipe I discovered online a few years back is still the only way I make them, mostly because it keeps me connected to the collards of Mr. Quinn, who passed away shortly after we left Chattanooga. It's quick and easy: first, trim the stems from the greens (one big bunch). Stack the leaves, roll them up kind of like a cigar, and slice them. I like my slices about 1/2 inch thick. In a skillet, cook up a couple of slices of bacon, chopped, then add some olive oil to the bacon's grease. Throw in the collards, add a little salt and pepper, and cook them for just a few minutes. I'd say four minutes max, then they're ready to eat. It's a fast way to get some greens onto your plate.