Winter Greens and Chickpeas

I grew up in the deepest part of the American South, where greens are a staple. Tobacco isn't the only huge, leafy plant that gets the royal treatment around here: collards and mustard greens grow three feet tall in farmers' backyard gardens or in huge fields for market. The interesting thing about Southern greens, though, is that few Southern cooks know how to prepare them properly. The standard way is to boil them for hours in plain water with a ham hock, which yields a tasteless, textureless mass that ranks slightly below Spam on my list of unappealing foods. Leave it to the South to grow agricultural glory, then squander it on poor preparation.

Luckily for the greens of the world, it does not have to be so. This recipe capitalizes on their earthy, down-home goodness by complementing them with plump, nutty chickpeas and a rich, slightly tangy combo of chicken stock and lemon juice. With all due respect to the Southern cooks I grew up with, this ain't your mama's greens. These are so simply, earthily good that after I perfected the recipe I made six batches over the course of two weeks, because I didn't want to eat anything else for lunch.

I make this recipe using kale, because its mild flavor adapts nicely to the braising process I use here, but you can use any winter green. Chard would be lovely. The stronger flavoured greens (mustard, collard) might need longer cooking times, but I see no reason why they wouldn't be fine. I think that I originally got the idea from Orangette, here, but this version has evolved quite a bit from hers, so I feel no qualms about claiming it for my own.

Winter Greens and Chickpeas

Approx. 1 lb winter greens (Like I said, I use kale here, but others would work. The 1 lb measurement is after the greens have had the tough stems taken out, so you’ll need to buy more than that at the store. I usually get two bunches.)
1 can Bush or Goya chickpeas, drained but not necessarily rinsed (I like the taste of the chickpea-juice, so I don’t rinse them. If it’s not your thing, go ahead and rinse. No big deal either way.)
1 medium-large scallion, thinly sliced
3 smallish leeks, thinly sliced
3 cloves garlic, finely diced
3 tbsp olive oil
1 cup chicken stock
2 tbsp lemon juice
Salt

Prep the greens by rinsing them thoroughly, then cutting the stems out, leaving only the leaves. Discard the stems, and slice the greens into thin ribbons (1/4 in.). Set greens aside. If greens are still wet after this process, that’s fine.

In a very wide sauce pan with a lid, add a generous 1 1/2 tbsp olive oil over medium heat. Add the scallion and leeks, cooking slowly until leeks and scallion have softened and are beginning to turn translucent. Add the garlic, and cook for another minute or so, then dump in the greens, working in batches to wilt the greens down enough until they all fit into the pan. Stir often, and make sure nothing sticks to the pan. Pour the chicken stock and lemon juice over the semi-wilted greens, then cover the pan, lower the heat to medium-low, and cook for fifteen-ish minutes. The goal here is a slow simmer, not a sizzle. The greens will absorb the flavours of the stock and lemon juice, and will release their own bitterness to become tender and earthy. After fifteen minutes or so, remove the lid, salt the mixture to taste, stir, and replace the lid for another five minutes. If it’s getting low on moisture, add a little more chicken stock to make sure that nothing sticks to the pan. If you're using a stronger flavoured green, you might add a little more stock here, and double the cooking time.

After salting the greens, in another medium saucepan, add the remaining olive oil, and the chickpeas. I like to use a saucepan large enough that the chickpeas will fit in a single layer. Cook over medium-high heat until the chickpeas begin to pop. At the first sign of popping, remove from heat and add to the greens mixture, which should be about finished. What you’re essentially doing is frying the chickpeas just a little, so that they’re heated up to go in with the greens. I think it helps them retain more of their own flavour once they get in the green mix.

Serve with rough-grain bread for sopping up juices.

Servings: 4-6