Lemony Collard Greens Pasta

The American Fork Recreation Center workshop brought something new this week: a woman who had seen the workshop description in the center's newsletter and brought her non-member neighbor, who is not LDS and who had no frame of reference for the terminology I sometimes use in passing without thinking. I do not preach at the workshops. I never have. But sometimes words slip through: Relief Society, ward, bishop's storehouse. Words that are the water I swim in and which mean nothing to someone standing outside the water. After the workshop the non-member neighbor, whose name is Wendy, said the system was exactly what she needed, and also: what is a ward? I explained. She said: so it is like a neighborhood congregation. I said: yes, exactly. She said: your neighborhood congregation taught you to do this. I said: yes. She said: that is a good neighborhood congregation.

I made adjustments to the handout this week: removed the LDS-specific terminology that was unintentional shorthand and replaced it with language that anyone can use. I kept the reference to my father's storehouse in the personal note because the storehouse is a real thing and it is part of why I do this and I am not going to pretend it does not exist. But I made the handout more welcoming to Wendy, who emailed me Thursday to say she has already made the taco soup and her husband asked what was different about dinner and she told him she had a system now. I told her she was a natural. She emailed back: I had a good teacher.

Spring in March in Utah is tentative, the way someone new to a room is tentative: taking up a little space, unsure if it is welcome, ready to retreat if challenged. We had a warm Tuesday and a cold Friday and the tulips that came up last week have been reconsidering. I made soup anyway, because March in Utah calls for soup regardless of the Tuesday. White bean and kale, which takes twenty-five minutes from start to finish and which is the first genuinely quick soup I have ever approved of, being of the persuasion that soup is a slow project.

The white bean and kale soup I mentioned is its own recipe for another week, but it got me thinking about the category of quick green things that feel substantial — food that does the work of something slow without asking for the time. This lemony collard greens pasta is in that category: it is done in the time it takes to boil water and have a conversation, which is to say it is done fast, and it is the kind of thing I would hand to Wendy without hesitation, because it needs no explanation and no frame of reference, only a pot and a lemon and a willingness to sit down together.

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 20 min | Total Time: 30 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

12 oz pasta (rigatoni, penne, or fusilli work well)
1 large bunch collard greens (about 10–12 leaves), stems removed, leaves sliced into thin ribbons
4 cloves garlic, thinly sliced
3 tablespoons olive oil, plus more for finishing
1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes (or to taste)
Zest and juice of 1 large lemon
1/2 cup pasta cooking water, reserved
1/2 cup grated Parmesan or Pecorino Romano, plus more for serving
Salt and black pepper to taste

Instructions

Boil the pasta. Bring a large pot of well-salted water to a boil. Cook pasta according to package directions until al dente. Before draining, scoop out 1/2 cup of the starchy cooking water and set it aside. Drain the pasta.
Soften the garlic. While the pasta cooks, heat olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Add the sliced garlic and red pepper flakes. Cook, stirring frequently, for 2–3 minutes until the garlic is golden and fragrant but not burnt.
Wilt the collard greens. Add the sliced collard greens to the skillet along with a pinch of salt. Toss to coat in the oil. Add 3–4 tablespoons of the reserved pasta water, cover the skillet loosely, and cook for 4–5 minutes, stirring once or twice, until the greens are tender and bright.
Combine and finish. Add the drained pasta to the skillet. Pour in the lemon zest, lemon juice, and half the remaining pasta water. Toss everything together over medium heat for 1–2 minutes, adding more pasta water as needed to create a light, glossy sauce that coats the pasta.
Add the cheese. Remove from heat. Stir in the grated Parmesan, tossing vigorously so it melts into the sauce. Taste and adjust salt, pepper, and lemon juice. Drizzle with a little extra olive oil.
Serve. Divide into bowls and top with additional cheese and a crack of black pepper. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Lemony Collard Greens Pasta — The Quick Green Thing I Made Because March Called for It