Wednesday, July 1, 2009


Eastside Road, Healdsburg, July 1, 2009—
WE FIRST TASTED IT in Apeldoorn, I think, in 1976, when we visited that city to see how our daughter was doing on her exchange-student year abroad. It's been a favorite ever since, never more than when we have our own kale growing in the garden.
At the moment it's the "dinosaur kale" variety, not the Russian. Long narrow leaves, probably a little past their prime, like so many things around here. I cut about eight leaves this afternoon for dinner.
A little pancetta, cubed, melted in the stainless-steel skillet. An onion and then some, cubed, sweated with the pancetta; a little olive oil added to facilitate things. Then about four good-sized potatoes, unpeeled, also cubed. Don't forget some salt.
When the potatoes were about half-cooked I transferred the whole thing to a heavy pot and added the kale, which I'd cut off the (undigestible) stems and sliced into squares. I just set them on top, added an inch or so of water to the pot, sprinkled a bit more salt in, and set the lid on it.
It cooked slowly while we had a dram of ice-cold Corenwijn; then we ate it for dinner. Green salad, redundantly.
Rosé, Côtes de Luberon, "La Ferme Julien", 2007

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