Those of you following us on Facebook know that to celebrate the fact that someone, anyone, besides my mother was reading this blog, I bought some kale.
And you know how I feel about kale.
Thus, in the spirit of celebration and in the spirit of trying to resemble a grown-up, which I hear can be defined as a person that (1) eats fancy vegetables and (2) makes good financial decisions (hey, since I gave number one a try, maybe I’ll get there on two and will stop trying to spend our money on what Husband calls “trinkets,” but let’s not get ahead of ourselves), I found myself with a big, bristly bunch of kale.
Husband put money on the likelihood the kale would go uncooked and uneaten, rotting in silent judgment in our fridge. Because all of you were so sweet and supportive, however, I figured I should at least try to cook it, and even if I didn’t eat it, James would. (To be clear, Husband is also very sweet and supportive, but he has known me for a very long time and his skepticism on my likelihood of cooking this kale was well-founded in past experience.) The child will eat ANYTHING. Which is kind of its own problem, but more on that later.
So, I did. I am not organized enough to look up a recipe ahead of time and actually purchase the groceries needed to make it, so I had to improvise based on what I remembered from some of the recipes you suggested. I’m having trouble writing this, but. . . it wasn’t awful.
Here is the key, however: I browned two pounds of Italian sausage I got at Whole Foods first. This was the most gorgeous sausage I’ve ever seen. (“That’s what she said!”) But really. This was sausage made from pigs that slept cuddled up at the foot of someone’s bed. I have no idea what was in it, but it was beautiful.
I browned the sausage first, then I cleaned most of the grease out of the dutch oven and then sauteed the kale in a mixture of the sausage drippings and olive oil. Then I dumped a bunch of other things in the pot, like garlic, carrots, onions, cannelini beans, chicken stock, and the aformentioned sausage.
I could still tell there were actual green vegetables involved, but the boys (Husband, James, and Big Boy) all loved it. The moral of this story, to me, is that there is little that two pounds of beautiful, organic, cuddled and coddled sausage can’t make palatable.