By New Year's Eve. The end of 2021. The best year since Earl died. The year the book came out and the boil came back and Elijah was born and the kitchen was full again. The year I stood in a bookstore and a restaurant and a newspaper and said: I am Dorothy Henderson. I cook. I feed people. I come from a woman named Pearl who cooked over fire on an island in Georgia, and I carry her forward in a skillet and a book and a sauce that bears her name.
Kayla and Devon came over at eleven. Denise at eleven-thirty. We stood in the kitchen — not the porch, not the driveway, the kitchen — and we raised our glasses at midnight and Kayla said, "To 2022." Denise said, "To the book." I said, "To the next one." They both looked at me. I said, "What? You think I only have one book in me?" Denise said, "Mama." I said, "I have been cooking for fifty-six years. That's at least three books." Kayla laughed. Denise went pale. I was not joking. But I was also not starting tomorrow. Tomorrow is black-eyed peas and rest.
New Year's Day. Peas, greens, cornbread, ham hocks. The tradition. Mrs. Crawford got her plate delivered at ten a.m. She called at noon and said, "Dorothy, your black-eyed peas are the reason I'm still alive." I said, "Mrs. Crawford, your stubbornness is the reason you're still alive. The peas are just encouragement."
Six years of this blog. Three hundred and twelve weeks next March. The woman who started it and the woman who writes it now are the same and they are different and the food is the bridge between them. The food is always the bridge.
Now go on and feed somebody.
The peas always get the credit on New Year’s Day — but the greens are just as important in my house, and they have been since Pearl’s time. You cook them down low and slow with something smoky from the pig, and they go quiet and dark and sweet in the pan, and by the time they hit the plate they taste like the whole year ahead of you has already been decided in your favor. I use kale now more often than collards — it holds up, it doesn’t ask too much of you — and the bacon does the rest of the work. This is what went on the stove at seven in the morning so Mrs. Crawford’s plate would be ready by ten.
Kale with Bacon
Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 25 minutes | Total Time: 35 minutes | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 4 strips thick-cut bacon, cut into 1/2-inch pieces
- 1 medium yellow onion, thinly sliced
- 3 cloves garlic, minced
- 1 large bunch curly kale (about 10 oz), stems removed, leaves torn
- 1/2 cup low-sodium chicken broth
- 1 tablespoon apple cider vinegar
- 1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes
- Salt and black pepper to taste
Instructions
- Cook the bacon. In a large skillet or Dutch oven over medium heat, cook the bacon pieces until crisp and the fat has rendered, about 6–8 minutes. Remove bacon with a slotted spoon and set aside, leaving the drippings in the pan.
- Soften the onion. Add the sliced onion to the bacon drippings and cook over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until softened and lightly golden, about 5 minutes.
- Add the garlic. Stir in the minced garlic and red pepper flakes and cook for 1 minute until fragrant.
- Wilt the kale. Add the torn kale to the skillet in batches, turning with tongs to coat in the drippings. Pour in the chicken broth, cover, and reduce heat to medium-low. Cook until the kale is tender and wilted, about 10–12 minutes, stirring once or twice.
- Finish and season. Uncover, stir in the apple cider vinegar, and season with salt and black pepper to taste. Cook uncovered for 2 more minutes to let any excess liquid reduce.
- Serve. Transfer to a serving dish and top with the reserved crispy bacon. Serve hot alongside black-eyed peas and cornbread.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 160 | Protein: 7g | Fat: 11g | Carbs: 9g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 340mg