Greens colored by global flavors

Locally grown greens are now arriving at farmers markets, and I often find myself reaching over and shouldering in to pick up a bunch or two. This wasn't always the case.

Years ago when I first arrived up North, I had to buy fresh greens on Harlem Street corners from the back of produce trucks coming in from Florida, Georgia and the Carolinas. They were loaded with the turnips, collards and mustard greens that my family in southern Alabama ate virtually every day this time of year.

But times change, and I am sure if Mama were keeping watch over my kitchen today, she would blink at the sight of what is going on with our beloved greens. They are in fashion now, often dressed with international flavor, reflecting our increasingly small world.

For example, the clove or two of garlic is still de rigueur in my simmering pot, as well as the traditional chopped chile pepper, but when I want to get a little fancy I boost the greens with a splash of flavored vinegar, or a spurt of soy sauce, or a dab of chutney, or a sprinkling of spice or crushed seeds, which I admit I have taken to with a passion.

Today my spice rack is stocked with pink and green peppercorns, coriander, sesame, cumin and cardamom seeds. I also have star anise, ground ginger, turmeric, cinnamon, allspice and cloves. And I always keep on hand curry powder, fresh ginger and coconut milk, which is favored in the Caribbean.

Then I steam or gently sauté or simmer the greens with a little olive or coconut or corn oil, the old down-home taste of good fatback a distant memory.

"Greens are loaded with nutrients," my friend the nutritionist said the other day. "They are full of plant vitamin A and bone-building calcium, and also provide a good source of vitamin C, a fair amount of the B vitamins and vitamin E. You can't do much better than that. Plus, you have to eat a cup to make 100 calories."

I'll buy that. And so do many other consumers, judging by the array of greens on the market nationwide. Along with the down-home collard greens, turnips, mustard and kale, there is also calaloo, a leaf green that resembles spinach that is simmered with a little coconut milk in Jamaica.

A vast array of greens

Broccoli raab, a member of the turnip family, is also plentiful. And so are bok choy, Swiss chard, dandelion and beet greens.

But I am still often asked as I buy plenty at the farmers market: "Just how do you prepare those greens for cooking?"

And my reply is standard: You wash greens the same way you do lettuce, in a large pot or dishpan or the sink filled with cold water, and you swish the greens around, changing the water three or four times, or until the greens are free of grit. Then put the greens in a colander and flood with water again and allow to drain.

The cooking time is another question. Years ago in the South, we cooked greens until they were fork-tender, often simmering the leaves for an hour, the immersed ham hocks oozing flavor.

But I have moved toward the cook-until-just-tender method, allowing 15 or 20 minutes of simmering even for fibrous collard greens, an affectation not missed during a family gathering last summer in Alabama.

"Aunt Joyce, you can flavor the greens and then I'll take over," said favorite niece Sherry, drawing giggles from the crew assembled in the kitchen at our old homestead.

"You don't cook them long enough."

I ignored her comment, but let her have her way, knowing that too many cooks in a kitchen can spoil the pot of greens.

But there is little disagreement on how to buy greens. Always select bunches with small, tender leaves so that you can cut cooking time to the minimum and save nutrients. Avoid greens with coarse stems, and in that vein, I often cut away and discard the thick ribs and stems of greens, especially collards, which have the largest stalks of the greens.

Also avoid greens with wilted and yellowing leaves, because they have lost flavor and nutrients. And since all fresh greens have to be trimmed, when buying, allow at least 8 ounces per serving, remembering they go fast at the table.

Joyce White is the author of "Brown Sugar" and "Soul Food." Reach her at jwhitesoul@aol.com.