← Back to Blog

Black-Eyed Peas and Collard Greens — The Patience the Mountain and Pete Both Taught Me

Hatcher Pass wildflowers were at their peak. I went hiking on my day off. The fireweed up to my knees, lupine in waves. I went alone. I have not hiked alone in years. I am thirty-four and I needed to walk where no one was, the woman walking, the body in motion, the silence of a body alone in a place that does not care about her.

I sat on a rock at the top of Reed Lakes trail and ate a peanut butter sandwich and watched the marmots and thought about nothing in particular for a long time. The thinking-about-nothing is the rarest thinking. The mountain demands only that you stay alive. The staying-alive is, on a clear day, easy. On a clear day, the mountain is the place where the body remembers it is animal and the head remembers it is small.

I came home and made adobo. The home recipe. Chicken thighs, vinegar, soy, garlic, bay leaves, peppercorns. The smell of adobo is the smell of the apartment. The smell of the apartment is the smell of my life.

Pete texted me a photo of an adobo he had attempted — first time. The photo was of something brown and oily and not quite right. The caption: "Your fault, Santos." I texted back: "More garlic. More patience." He texted: "More patience is the lesson, isn't it." Pete, the man who is the model of the one-who-waited-too-long, telling me about patience. The teaching goes both ways. I just needed to listen.

I made bibingka on Sunday — out of season, but the body wanted the smell of pandan. The bibingka in July tastes different from the bibingka in December. I called Lourdes. She said, "Bibingka in July, Grace?" I said, "I had pandan, Mama." She said, "That is no excuse." She laughed. I will make bibingka whenever I want.

The adobo was already made, but Pete’s text stayed with me all week — more patience is the lesson, isn’t it — and I kept finding it everywhere I looked, including the pot on my stove. Black-eyed peas and collard greens are a dish that will not be hurried; the greens need time to go tender and the peas need time to go soft, and the whole thing asks only that you leave it alone and trust the heat. The mountain clears the head, but a slow pot finishes the work. This is the recipe I come back to when I need to practice what I already know.

Black-Eyed Peas and Collard Greens

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 1 hr | Total Time: 1 hr 15 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

  • 2 cans (15 oz each) black-eyed peas, drained and rinsed
  • 1 large bunch collard greens (about 1 lb), tough stems removed, leaves sliced into ribbons
  • 4 strips thick-cut bacon, chopped (or 1 smoked ham hock)
  • 1 medium yellow onion, diced
  • 4 cloves garlic, minced
  • 3 cups low-sodium chicken broth
  • 1 cup water
  • 1 tsp smoked paprika
  • 1/2 tsp crushed red pepper flakes
  • 1 tbsp apple cider vinegar
  • Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

Instructions

  1. Render the bacon. In a large heavy-bottomed pot or Dutch oven over medium heat, cook the chopped bacon until the fat has rendered and the pieces are just crisp, about 6–8 minutes. Transfer bacon to a paper-towel-lined plate, leaving the drippings in the pot.
  2. Soften the aromatics. Add the diced onion to the pot and cook in the bacon drippings over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until translucent and just beginning to turn golden, about 6 minutes. Add the minced garlic and cook 1 minute more until fragrant.
  3. Build the braise. Stir in the smoked paprika and red pepper flakes and cook 30 seconds. Pour in the chicken broth and water, scraping up any browned bits from the bottom of the pot.
  4. Add the collard greens. Add the sliced collard greens in batches, stirring each addition down into the liquid before adding the next. The pot will seem crowded at first — it will settle. Bring to a gentle boil, then reduce heat to low, cover, and simmer for 30 minutes, until the greens are tender and yielding.
  5. Add the black-eyed peas. Stir in the drained black-eyed peas and the reserved bacon. Cover and continue simmering over low heat for 20 minutes, until the peas are warmed through and have absorbed some of the broth’s flavor.
  6. Finish and season. Remove the lid, stir in the apple cider vinegar, and taste for salt and pepper. Simmer uncovered for 5 minutes more to let the liquid reduce slightly. Serve hot with cornbread or steamed rice if desired.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 275 | Protein: 17g | Fat: 7g | Carbs: 36g | Fiber: 9g | Sodium: 510mg

Grace Santos
About the cook who shared this
Grace Santos
Week 384 of Grace’s 30-year story · Anchorage, Alaska
Grace is a thirty-seven-year-old ER nurse in Anchorage, Alaska — Filipino-American, single, and the person her entire community calls when they need a hundred lumpia for a party or a shoulder to cry on after a hard shift. She cooks to cope with the things she sees in the emergency room, feeding her neighbors and her church and anyone who looks like they need a plate. Her adobo could bring peace to a warring nation. Her schedule could kill a lesser person.

How Would You Spin It?

Put your own twist on this recipe — what would you add, remove, or swap?