Bitter Greens
Ever since our release from quarantine, Gabe and I have ordered “erbe in stagione” whenever we see it on a menu. One time this was chard, but mostly it’s been cicoria, or wild chicory. Either way, these greens are legit the healthiest, most nourishing food one can put in one’s body. This is not hyperbole—they are so green you can practically see the antioxidants trembling, fed by Umbrian sun and wind, and as local as it gets—how could it not be food for the body and soul?
Our hunt for cicoria has mostly been an exercise in being humbled, as you can see from my recent posts, but it turns out there’s one reliable place to forage them—at the fruttivendolo.
I confirmed what looked like dandelion greens were actually cicoria by asking the produce seller and then, because I love to get people talking while I nod and pretend I’m totally understanding, I asked if they were in season. I’m pretty sure he said they’re always in season, as long as it’s not winter, when the leaves burn. This halfway makes sense, but it’s quite possible I missed something.
In any case, when I pulled them out of my grocery bag, you would have thought I was handing Gabe a bouquet to commemorate one of life’s sweet milestones. I prepared them for lunch that very day so as not to waste even one quivering antioxidant, and not only were they delicious, they made excellent leftovers—tossed in pasta, as a bed for a fried egg, piled on bruschetta.
I cooked them the way I often cook greens at home (even broccoli). I cooked up kale this way at Thanksgiving last year, since we had them growing in the garden (so much better when their fresh) and I thought they’d pair well with our soul food themed Thanksgiving meal. Cicoria is more bitter than kale, but this recipe brought out all the shiny green quality. Doused with olive oil, can there be a healthier food on the planet?
I’m sharing the recipe, hoping that having such a tasty method of greens preparation will encourage you to bring more gleeful antioxidants into your life.
Wash leaves. I keep them as whole as I can, or I worry that the goodness will leak out the cut ends as they hit the boiling water.
Plunge them into a pot of boiling, salted water (the water should taste like seawater). Boil without the lid until the leaves are tender, but not mushy. The amount of time will depend on what kind of greens you’re cooking.
Once done, strain.
To a pan big enough to toss the greens, pour in a good glug of olive oil (I’m not sure there’s such a thing as too much). Add at least a clove of chopped garlic, more if you lean that way,. If you like, add a pinch of red pepper flakes. When the garlic is fragrant, throw in the greens and toss about, sprinkling with salt to taste, until the greens are just like you like them.
Buon appetito!