It’s probably not worth speculating on why exactly collard greens are not widely eaten outside of the American south. Growing up in the southwest and migrating to the northeast and then to Philadelphia, I hadn’t eaten them until well into my twenties. But as vegetables go, they’re almost perfect. They taste great cooked in a little bacon grease, accompanied by onions, garlic, tomatoes, or almost anything you want to add to them. I recently tried a variation on the technique described in the video below that was totally vegetarian, substituting butter for bacon grease. The nutritional benefits are stunning, bacon fat notwithstanding:

Collard leaves are rich in calcium (226 mg per cup, cooked), vitamins B1, B2, B9, and C (which may be leached by cooking, however), as well as beta-carotene (pro-vitamin A). Each 100 g of leaves provides 46 calories (190 kilojoules) of food energy and contains 4 g of protein, 0.5 grams of fat, 7 g of carbohydrates.

Widely considered to be healthful foods, they are high in vitamin C and soluble fiber and contain multiple nutrients with potent anti-cancer properties: diindolylmethane, sulforaphane and selenium.

Researchers at the University of California at Berkeley have recently discovered that 3,3′-Diindolylmethane in Brassica vegetables such as collard greens is a potent modulator of the innate immune response system with potent anti-viral, anti-bacterial and anti-cancer activity.

Another remarkable thing about them, unlike many other greens, is that they can be frozen almost indefinitely before being reheated. And don’t even get me–or that nut Zell Miller–started on the virtues of potlikker. (Hell, it rates its own blog). Anyway, here’s how I make my Philadelphia Collard Greens:

Once again, I’ve been a bit disappointed by my sourdough efforts, but there’s progress to report as well. Here was the first loaf I raised:

I think it did actually double in volume during the second rise, but I probably should have let it go longer. The crumb is too tight and dense and there are parts of the interior of the loaf that saw no rise at all. The crust is another disappointment, and part of the problem is clearly that I have not created a moist enough environment for the bake. James Beard’s sourdough recipe calls for a pan of water on the lower rack (though it also calls for the use of commercial yeast, which I understand arouses a scoff from the purist). I may try that next–the water, not the yeast (yet). Other recipes demand that you spray water into the oven periodically. I’ll try variations on those techniques presently. Here was the second loaf. This one used the non-PYNK starter:

This was evidently a wetter dough, since it ‘rose’ horizontally rather than in a dome. Its rise *was* more robust, however, and the crumb had a little more air in it. I’m not ready just yet for a brotform, but I think that may be on the horizon. The crust was just as disappointing, however. The biggest failure of both breads was their flavor. They just aren’t sour enough! Neither loaf has the distinctive tang of sourdough despite the overpoweringly sour aroma of the starter. I’m going to try addressing that problem by allowing the sponge to proof longer in a warmer environment. More reports soon!

Not a lot of liveliness to my Sourdough starter these days. There was a brief period when the starter puffed up and seemed to be doing its starter-y thing, but those days are gone, and now it bubbles with a malicious sloth. I’ve now split it into two colonies of yeast. The original ambient yeast from the flour, my skin, the air, wherever, theoretically populates the original starter:

But I’ve seeded an additional starter using a little leftover Yards Brewing Company Pynk:

PYNK is a beautiful, light, effervescent ale brewed with belgian Lambic yeast and loads of fresh raspberries. The raspberries give this beer a deep pink color while the Lambic yeast makes this beer’s flavor tart and complex. Slipping some Pynk onto your tongue is like gliding into that old poodle skirt that you know you love. We don’t make this very often so if you see it, try it!! Available occasionally (on special years) – Draught Only. Alcohol by Volume varies by batch but is generally around 6%.

No idea what’ll happen with that one (or either of them, with my track record), but that’s why this is an experimental food blog. Anyway, the new location for Yards Brewing Company is under construction. It used to be a skate park. Check the photos here.

I am not a lab scientist. Sourdough is lab science. I failed at dozens of attempts to raise a sourdough starter last summer, and I’ve overcome that early frustration just in time to launch my new starter into the teeth of winter. Since most sourdough starter recipes seem to require a consistently warm temperature (about 85 degrees), this is not ideal. My previous failures were with this recipe, so this time around I’m going to give this one a shot. Technically though, this effort is merely inspired by that recipe, since contra his suggestions I’m using plain bleached white flour. Instead of using a ceramic or glass crock as suggested, I’m using Tupperware. And I’m solving the temperature problem with my oven light. Not sure where that leaves this project’s carbon footprint.