Sautéed Beet Greens

The first truly warm day of the year arrived on Tuesday, and Charleston responded the way it always does — by slowing down. The tourists on King Street moved at half speed, fanning themselves with brochures. The carriage horses on Meeting Street looked philosophical about the heat. Even the library felt different, the air conditioning working harder, the patrons lingering longer, reluctant to go back into the sun. I love this about Charleston — the way weather is not background but character, shaping the tempo of every day.

I have been thinking about my father this week. His birthday would have been Thursday — he would have turned seventy-six. I didn't mark it formally. I don't visit graves; Reverend James is not in the Beaufort cemetery any more than he is in this kitchen, which is to say he is in both places and neither, and the place he is most alive is in the cadence of my thoughts, which are sometimes my own and sometimes his, delivered in the preacher's rhythm he could never quite turn off. On Thursday morning I made his favorite breakfast — scrambled eggs with cheddar and a side of grits so thick you could stand a spoon in them — and I ate it alone in the kitchen before anyone else was awake, and that was my memorial, and it was enough.

James came home from school with a grade on his English paper that delighted him and surprised nobody. He is a natural writer, though he doesn't see himself that way yet. He sees himself as a debater, an arguer, a future something-involving-words. I see the writer underneath — the way he constructs sentences with the care of someone who knows that language matters, that the right word in the right place can hold more weight than a paragraph of wrong ones. I told him once that writing is just organized thinking, and he said, "Then you must be very organized, Mom," and I said, "Only on paper."

Dr. Ellis asked me this week to describe my marriage in three words. I said: "Rebuilding. Cautious. Present." She asked what word I wished I could use. I said: "Easy." She said easy was never on the table for any marriage that had been through what ours had been through. I said I knew that. But I can wish for things I know I won't get. That's what wishes are for.

I made benne wafers this weekend — the sesame seed cookies that are one of Charleston's oldest Lowcountry traditions, brought from West Africa centuries ago and still made in the same way. The recipe is simple: sesame seeds, butter, brown sugar, flour, vanilla. The technique is not: the seeds must be toasted to exactly the right shade of gold, and the batter must be dropped in precise amounts or the wafers spread too thin and burn. I made three batches before I was satisfied. Mama would have gotten it right the first time. But Mama has been making benne wafers since before I was born, and I am still learning, and the learning is the point, even when the first two batches go in the trash.

I chose sautéed beet greens this week because they are the part most people throw away. You buy the beets for their roots — the bright, jewel-colored centers — and the greens go in the compost or the trash without a second thought. But the greens are good. They are bitter and tender and worth the ten extra minutes it takes to wash the grit out of them and cook them down with a little fat and acid and heat. I have been thinking a lot lately about what gets discarded and what gets kept, and how sometimes the thing you almost threw away turns out to be the thing that feeds you.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 15 min | Total Time: 30 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

1 pound (or more) beet greens from fresh golden or red beets
1/3 cup pancetta or uncured bacon, diced fine (about 2-3 ounces in weight)
1/4 cup shallots, diced (4 ounces in weight)
Pinch red pepper flakes
2 tablespoons white wine
2 tablespoons champagne vinegar
1 teaspoon agave nectar or honey (optional)

Instructions

Strip the leaves. Remove greens from beets and pull leaves from stems by holding the stem in one hand and running your other hand down the stem, pulling the leaves off as you glide down the stem.
Wash and chop. Lay the leaves on your cutting board and chop or tear into pieces. Place in a salad spinner and fill with water and move leaves around to dislodge any dirt. Dump water and repeat. Dump water again then let wet leaves sit in the salad spinner but do not spin. You want them to stay wet.
Crisp the pancetta. In a large sauté pan or skillet, heat to medium heat and spray the pan with pan spray then add pancetta. Cook for about three minutes until the pancetta is crisp.
Cook the shallots. Add shallots and pepper flakes and continue to cook until the shallots become tender, about two to three more minutes.
Deglaze. Add wine and vinegar to deglaze and cook to evaporate liquid, about one to two minutes.
Wilt the greens. Add wet beet leaves, stir and cover. Cook for two minutes covered.
Finish uncovered. Remove lid and cook until tender, about four to five more minutes.
Drain and serve. Drain off any liquid and serve cooked beet greens with optional agave or honey drizzled over the top.

Nutrition (per serving)

Sautéed Beet Greens — What You Do With What’s Left Behind