Beet Greens — The Humble, Nourishing Side That Belongs at a New Year’s Table

New Year's Eve in the new house, and we kept it simple. Just Gary and me, a bottle of champagne we'd been saving for a move-worthy occasion, and a grazing board I put together from the leftover holiday cheeses and the last of the Christmas prosciutto. We ate on the new couch and watched old home videos — a habit we've developed over the years, this looking back at the end of December. It's both sweet and strange, watching your younger selves move through rooms that no longer exist.

I found a clip of Grace from maybe 2012, helping me roll out pie dough at the old kitchen counter. She was wearing a flour-dusted apron that was about three sizes too big for her and she kept tucking the ties around herself in frustration. She was so alive in that clip — so particular, so present. I watched it twice and then once more. Gary came and sat with me. We didn't say anything for a while.

This year I am not making resolutions in the traditional sense. I'm making intentions. There's a difference. Resolutions imply failure as the default, some discipline you're imposing on a resistant self. Intentions feel more like turning to face a direction. I intend to finish the book I've been circling. I intend to spend more time in the garden now that we have real space for one. I intend to be present at the table — not filming, not thinking about the next video, just present — at least as often as I'm behind the camera.

I made a black-eyed pea soup for New Year's Day, as I always do, because my grandmother was from Georgia and she was very serious about this tradition. I've adapted her recipe over the years — smoked paprika instead of straight ham hock, a handful of kale stirred in at the end — but the heart of it is still hers. Luck and legumes. A new year beginning with something humble and nourishing from the earth.

The house is quiet now. The garden is sleeping under frost. The champagne is finished. Somewhere across town, or maybe across the country, Noah is starting a new year as a nationally published food writer. Ethan is a father twice over. The wheel turns. I am fifty years old this coming summer, and I feel, surprisingly, like I'm just getting started.

The black-eyed pea soup I make every New Year’s Day has always had greens stirred in at the end — kale, usually, or whatever looks good at the market — because my grandmother believed that the green was just as important as the luck of the legume. Beet greens are what I turned to this year, partly because I had them on hand and partly because there’s something about their deep, earthy bite that felt right for a day spent looking inward. If you’ve never cooked the tops of your beets instead of composting them, this is the gentle nudge you need — they’re tender, quick, and exactly the kind of humble thing a new year deserves.

Beet Greens

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 10 minutes | Total Time: 20 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

• 1 large bunch beet greens (tops from about 4–6 beets), stems and leaves separated
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 3 cloves garlic, thinly sliced
• 1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes (optional)
• 1/4 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
• 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
• 1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
• Lemon wedges, for serving

Instructions

1. Prep the greens. Rinse the beet greens thoroughly under cold water. Trim the tough lower ends from the stems, then chop the stems into 1-inch pieces. Stack the leaves and roughly chop them. Keep the stems and leaves separate.
2. Sauté the stems. Heat the olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Add the chopped beet stems and cook, stirring occasionally, for 3–4 minutes until they begin to soften.
3. Add garlic and pepper flakes. Add the sliced garlic and red pepper flakes (if using) to the pan and cook for 1 minute, stirring frequently, until the garlic is fragrant and just golden at the edges.
4. Wilt the leaves. Add the chopped beet greens to the skillet in batches if needed, tossing to coat with the oil. Cook for 3–4 minutes, stirring often, until the leaves are fully wilted and tender.
5. Season and finish. Remove the pan from heat. Season with salt and black pepper, then drizzle the lemon juice over the top and toss to combine. Taste and adjust seasoning as needed.
6. Serve. Transfer to a serving plate and offer with additional lemon wedges on the side. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 85 | Protein: 2g | Fat: 7g | Carbs: 6g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 190mg