May. Three years since I graduated from the grief that couldn't cook to the cook who cooks through grief. I don't mark this as an anniversary—the way you mark Marcus's March and Bernice's May—but I feel it in May, the particular quality of May as the month when everything starts, when the spring becomes permanent, when what was arriving has arrived. Three years of Bernice's Table. Two years of Tuesday outdoor dinners plus the pandemic bag-meal period. Hundreds of cooking class students. The blog. The writing. The chain going forward.
Destiny's wedding is in five months. Travis and Destiny came for Sunday dinner and Travis helped me in the kitchen for the first time—he had offered before and I had said no, not out of protectiveness of the kitchen but out of the correct ordering of when men earn the right to help in it, which is: after they've been to the table enough times to understand what the kitchen produces and why it matters. Travis has been to this table more times than I can count. He knows what the kitchen produces. He knows why it matters. He stood at the stove Sunday and I handed him the wooden spoon and said, "Stir the greens. When they start to smell different, tell me." He stirred. He told me when they smelled different. He was right. I said, "Good. Now you know that smell." He said, "I do." Good. A man who knows that smell will never make his wife cook alone on a Sunday. That is the lesson. That is all the lesson.
The greens I handed Travis the spoon over were cooked down with a ham hock, the way Bernice cooked them, the way I cook them now — low and slow until the pot liquor turns dark and the smell shifts from raw to something deeper, something that fills the whole house and says Sunday without a word. This is that pot. Ham with vegetables, humble as it sounds, is the recipe that holds the lesson: you cannot rush it, you cannot fake it, and if you pay attention, it will tell you exactly when it’s ready.
Ham with Vegetables
Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 1 hr 30 min | Total Time: 1 hr 50 min | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 1 smoked ham hock (about 1 1/2 lbs)
- 6 cups water or low-sodium chicken broth
- 1 large bunch collard greens (about 1 1/2 lbs), stems removed, leaves torn or chopped
- 2 cups chopped turnips, peeled and cut into 1-inch pieces
- 1 1/2 cups chopped carrots (about 3 medium carrots)
- 1 cup diced yellow onion
- 3 cloves garlic, minced
- 1/2 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
- 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
- 1/4 teaspoon smoked paprika
- Salt to taste
- 1 tablespoon apple cider vinegar
Instructions
- Simmer the ham. Place the ham hock and water (or broth) in a large heavy-bottomed pot or Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to medium-low. Cover and simmer for 45 minutes, until the ham begins to pull tender.
- Build the base. Add the diced onion and garlic to the pot. Stir to combine and cook uncovered for 5 minutes, until the onion softens slightly into the broth.
- Add the greens. Add the collard greens in batches, pressing them down as they wilt to make room. Stir in the red pepper flakes, black pepper, and smoked paprika. The greens will reduce significantly.
- Add root vegetables. Once the greens have wilted down (about 10 minutes), add the turnips and carrots. Stir everything together, cover, and cook on medium-low for 30 to 35 minutes, until the vegetables are fork-tender and the pot liquor has deepened in color and aroma.
- Finish and season. Remove the ham hock. When cool enough to handle, pull the meat from the bone, shred it, and return it to the pot. Stir in the apple cider vinegar. Taste and adjust salt as needed. The vinegar brightens everything — don’t skip it.
- Serve. Ladle into deep bowls with pot liquor spooned over the top. Serve with cornbread to soak up the broth.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 210 | Protein: 18g | Fat: 9g | Carbs: 14g | Fiber: 5g | Sodium: 520mg