Collard Greens

But even these days when I find a place that looks promising, the actual food leaves me wanting. No offense but the love just isn’t there. And if you don’t have some pride, affection, and yes, love for what you’re cooking, it shows. Add the inherent problems, the economics, of successfully staffing and operating an independent family style diner in this day and age and it only gets harder. Cracker Barrel doesn’t count. Read More

My daughter and I had lunch at The Flying Biscuit the other day and I ordered the Southern Scramble. It was made with bacon, cheese, and spicy vegan collard greens, though vegan collard greens in an egg scramble with bacon seemed contradictory. Still, it was tasty, the grits were indeed “creamy dreamy,” and the savory edginess of the collards brought back memories of my grandmother’s kitchen in Cherokee County, north of Atlanta. 

I don’t recall vegan even being a word in those days and my grandmother, Mama Wall, always put some fatback, or bacon in her greens. On her stove, beans and greens always contained some type of smoked meat, usually pork, for flavor. And the fact that the collards came straight from her garden made them that much better. They were always picked in the morning after a cool night. Any Southern cook knows they’re most flavorful then. And the best greens of the year are grown in Autumn.

What she called soup beans were an Appalachian staple. Usually pintos, cooked slow and long with sweet onion, garlic, and a little pork belly. They were indeed soupy, and the soupy bean gravy mixing on a plate with the pot likker from the collards was like nectar. Only needing some corn bread to sop it up. Maybe mashed potatoes as a creamy foil for it all. And Silver Queen corn freshly picked and slathered in butter. Most of those suppers during garden season were in fact “meatless,” the occasional pork chop or salisbury steak being the exception. Or sometimes fried chicken, accompanied by a white gravy smothering the potatoes. But vegetable plates ruled, and I never came away from the table feeling shortchanged.

If any of this so far leaves you salivating, then you’ve probably also noticed the gradual disappearance of meat and three restaurants. In college a lot of us worked in restaurants at least part time. Waiting tables, cooking, washing dishes, tending bar. That usually meant late hours. We refueled the next day with large plates of meat and vegetables, washed down with plenty of sweet iced tea. The Silver Grill near Piedmont Park was close and a favorite. It’s been gone for a while, and a Mexican restaurant occupies the space now. The Silver Skillet over in Midtown is still dishing up the goods. 

But even these days when I find a place that looks promising, the actual food leaves me wanting. No offense but the love just isn’t there. And if you don’t have some pride, affection, and yes, love for what you’re cooking, it shows. Add the inherent problems, the economics, of successfully staffing and operating an independent family style diner in this day and age and it only gets harder. Cracker Barrel doesn’t count. 

Like the ancient Chinese cookbook that begins with how to fertilize the soil, perhaps I’ll plant a small garden next Spring. Or maybe just continue to haunt the produce aisles at Kroger, local farmers markets, random roadside vegetable stands. Finding those ingredients to bring home to my own kitchen. Home cooking at its best is a way of life. And most of my days are whiled away looking forward to what’s for dinner on any given night. What to cook, what to drink. Who to share it with.

The meal at The Flying Biscuit was fine. Not great but good. And collards in the scramble were a nice touch. I have no idea how much love infused the kitchen there but I had my daughter along as a companionable substitute.

And good company is always the prime ingredient for a successful meal.  

7 Comments

  1. I tried Helen Stapleton’s review for turnip greens last night. The result was quite tasty. (I’m not giving away a secret since she posts it with her greens for sale on the Cumberland Market.)

    Saute an onion in bacon fat.
    Add red pepper flakes, brown sugar, salt, and a little vinegar. (I added a diced poblano to the onion.)
    Toss in the rinsed greens, cover, and cook on low for about an hour.
    (I used a deep cast iron pan with a good lid.)
    Remove from the heat, throw in some cornbread, dinner!

    1. Well if Helen is making the greens I know they’re tasty. She is a Louisiana girl after all…
      The diced poblano is a nice touch. And I use a big old deep Le Creuset cast iron pot my Mom left me. Well seasoned…

  2. I’m with you Jim…my neighbors always had summer veggies on the stove and “fix a plate” was the norm, anytime of day, when I was a kid. Nothing is better…restaurants just can’t put the love in. Except Vi’s in Tullahoma. Damn…that food was love on a plate <3

  3. Damn it Jim, I’m on my summer diet plan and now I’m ready to go out and ruin it w/fatback greens & cornbread! 😂✌🏼❤️

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