Please welcome Hank Shaw as he shares a Southern favorite, collard greens! ~Elise
I grew up with a healthy affection for sauteed greens: Bright, vibrant, spiked with garlic and red pepper and maybe a little citrus at the end. This was how greens were supposed to be served—alive, vigorous and most of all, emerald green. So you can imagine my shock when I first encountered Southern-style collard greens.
Please welcome Hank Shaw as he shares a Southern favorite, collard greens! ~Elise
I grew up with a healthy affection for sauteed greens: Bright, vibrant, spiked with garlic and red pepper and maybe a little citrus at the end. This was how greens were supposed to be served—alive, vigorous and most of all, emerald green. So you can imagine my shock when I first encountered Southern-style collard greens.
Please welcome Hank Shaw as he shares a Southern favorite, collard greens! ~Elise
I grew up with a healthy affection for sauteed greens: Bright, vibrant, spiked with garlic and red pepper and maybe a little citrus at the end. This was how greens were supposed to be served—alive, vigorous and most of all, emerald green. So you can imagine my shock when I first encountered Southern-style collard greens.
Please welcome Hank Shaw as he shares a Southern favorite, collard greens! ~Elise
I grew up with a healthy affection for sauteed greens: Bright, vibrant, spiked with garlic and red pepper and maybe a little citrus at the end. This was how greens were supposed to be served—alive, vigorous and most of all, emerald green. So you can imagine my shock when I first encountered Southern-style collard greens.
Please welcome Hank Shaw as he shares a Southern favorite, collard greens! ~Elise
I grew up with a healthy affection for sauteed greens: Bright, vibrant, spiked with garlic and red pepper and maybe a little citrus at the end. This was how greens were supposed to be served—alive, vigorous and most of all, emerald green. So you can imagine my shock when I first encountered Southern-style collard greens.
Please welcome Hank Shaw as he shares a Southern favorite, collard greens! ~Elise
I grew up with a healthy affection for sauteed greens: Bright, vibrant, spiked with garlic and red pepper and maybe a little citrus at the end. This was how greens were supposed to be served—alive, vigorous and most of all, emerald green. So you can imagine my shock when I first encountered Southern-style collard greens.
Please welcome Hank Shaw as he shares a Southern favorite, collard greens! ~Elise
I grew up with a healthy affection for sauteed greens: Bright, vibrant, spiked with garlic and red pepper and maybe a little citrus at the end. This was how greens were supposed to be served—alive, vigorous and most of all, emerald green. So you can imagine my shock when I first encountered Southern-style collard greens.
Please welcome Hank Shaw as he shares a Southern favorite, collard greens! ~Elise
I grew up with a healthy affection for sauteed greens: Bright, vibrant, spiked with garlic and red pepper and maybe a little citrus at the end. This was how greens were supposed to be served—alive, vigorous and most of all, emerald green. So you can imagine my shock when I first encountered Southern-style collard greens.
Mors is a tart, berry-based refresher that has a heck of a pedigree — it was first mentioned in the sixteenth-century Russian homemaking manual “Domostroy.” Although it’s frequently made from cranberries, mors can easily be made with just about any kind of wild or cultivated sour berries. And although modern-day mors is often sweetened with sugar, I prefer to use honey; it’s a nod to the origin of the word mors, which probably derives from the Latin mulsa, or “honey drink.”
Forget about the store-bought stuff that comes in cartons — thanks to the natural pectin in the berries, this juice has a velvety texture.
Winter is the season to get a bit adventurous and embrace that strange-looking orb known as jicama, the faintly hairy bulb called celeriac, and the humbly earnest rutabaga. This week we turned them into inspired and luscious salad after salad. No lettuce required! Just peel, shred, chop, and roast and you can transform these storing veggies and random roots into no-wilt salads for tonight’s dinner and tomorrow’s lunch, too.
