what do you mean kale doesn’t go with everything?


A couple of years ago, I introduced a kale salad for sale at our local Farmer’s Market. At the time, no one in these parts was doing anything magical with kale, and the time had come to lure folks towards it. The salad was inspired by one that my Number One had eaten during a trip to Cali. I tinkered with a lemon dressing until I hit palate jackpot. We jokingly referred to it as Liquid Gold, so beautiful was its colour. It was such a precious commodity (holy lemon juicing!) that the jars were sealed good n’ tight, lest anyone should bump it in the reach-in fridge. Heading into its third year, that salad is still going strong at the market. And I’m no less a kale-lover now than I was then. In fact, I say without shame: put me in front of a humungous kale salad and I’ll likely be the last person standing. Kale is the only salad green I know that can be dressed and still remain sturdy and just as delicious (more so, I’d argue) the next day. And you know what that means, don’t you? More kale to go with everything!

Last night, with a whisper of spring in the air, the time was right for kale salad. The lemons were juiced and the dressing made. The pine nuts, sunflower seeds and almonds were toasted and the Parmesan shaved. And the dried cranberries were sprinkled liberally. To be honest, the roast chicken and vegies (hasselback taters, how I adore you) were almost an afterthought. But Number Four loves his chicken. Unlike his sister (and his ma) solo kale salad does not a dinner make.

I’ve heard murmurs that kale will soon be to vegies what cupcakes were to sweets: passé. But I quite happily pay no attention to either thought.















photos by: bliss {in images}