grandma hattie’s collard greens

How are you holding up against the onslaught of sugar? This time of year, I often find myself cooking up massive amounts of green things to counter the glut (she says, while munching on potato chips), and all the germy bugs floating around. Sometimes I buy all the fixings for giant, out-of-season chef salads, and sometimes I make a vast pot of Italian wedding soup. This year, though, it’s been collard greens. 

About a year ago, my daughter-in-law brought a pot of collard greens to our Stone Soup small group. They were wicked good: silky smooth, salty, with little chunks of smoked turkey throughout. I got the recipe, of course, but then our local grocery store didn’t have any smoked turkey legs. We usually carry those over the holidays, the meat man explained when I inquired. 

So I waited. A whole freaking year. And then a couple weeks ago when I spied thick bundles of collard greens in the produce section, I remembered! The man in the meat department said, yes, they had smoked turkey and scuttled away in search of it. It’s not a leg, he said when he returned, but here’s a pack of turkey neck and wings. 

Perfect, I said, tossing them into my cart. 

The first time I made the greens, I didn’t have the Goya Jamón seasoning, which I figured was probably fine. But the collards weren’t like I remembered them, and when my daughter-in-law tasted them, she agreed — that ham seasoning was a necessity. 

I made a second batch of collards yesterday, this time with the ham seasoning. The flavor difference wasn’t earth shaking, but it was definitely noticeable. More robust, maybe. 

ANYWAY. I could live on these greens. The first time I made them, I served them with cornbread (and meatloaf, which wasn’t a great pairing), and then I ate the leftovers by themselves — just huge steaming bowls of velvety, meaty greens. Oh, and I added a can of white beans to some of them, too, to make them more of a complete meal. 

Last night’s collards were served alongside a pork roast, mashed potatoes, and corn. For lunch today, I just had a big old bowl of collards, and then some biscotti and those potato chips (I’m no saint, y’all). There’s still more leftovers in the fridge, but I’m already dreading when they run out.

Might need to make another visit to my meat man.

Grandma Hattie’s Collard Greens
Adapted from Grandma Hattie’s recipe, as given to me by my daughter-in-law.

Grandma Hattie’s recipe has no measurements. I’ve recorded what I do, more or less, but feel free to adapt as you go. 

Collards are more bitter than other greens; thus, the addition of sugar. The recipe calls for two 1½-pound bunches of collards; I did not weigh mine. Also, feel free to swap out a smoked ham hock in place of the smoked turkey leg, but remember: smoked turkey is not as salty as ham. 

My daughter-in-law made her collards on the stove top; I make mine in the insta pot. 

1 large onion, chopped
1 tablespoon bacon grease or lard
1 tablespoon white sugar
1 teaspoon garlic powder
½ teaspoon red pepper flakes
1 packet Goya Jamon seasoning
1-2 teaspoons salt
½ teaspoon black pepper
1-2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
1-2 pints chicken or pork broth
2 large bunches of collards, de-stemmed, rough-chopped, and washed
1 smoked turkey leg (or neck or wing, whatever)

Saute the onion in the fat for 4-5 minutes. Add the sugar, garlic powder, red pepper, ham seasoning, salt, black pepper, and vinegar and mix well. Add the greens and cook, stirring occasionally for about 10 minutes, or until they cook down. 

Transfer everything to the instapot. Add the broth and turkey neck. Pressure cook on high for 1 hour and 20 minutes — and no, that is not a typo. Vent release for about 10 minutes. (Alternatively, simmer the greens on the stove top for a couple hours.) 

This same time, years previous: the coronavirus diaries: week 198, rosemary asiago cheese, all is well, 51 pies, the quotidian (12.17.18), sour candied orange rinds, almond shortbread, brightening the dark, supper reading, fa-la-la-la-la.