The Cornbread Gospels (49 page)

Monotonous? Not so, as the numberless and varied ways of stews, beans, and greens worldwide prove.

Take greens. They might be slow-cooked collards with salt pork in the American South (see
page 290
) or their vegetarian counterpart (see
page 293
), served up with scallions, hot sauce, and vinegar on the side—and of course, skillet-sizzled, nonsweet cornbread. But in the north of India you’ll find mustard greens, also simmered slowly, aromatic with ginger and garlic and chile and spices (see Mr. Panseer’s version on
page 294
), which is served with Makki Ki Roti (
page 109
). Back in the United States, the greens might be plain old unassuming cabbage, quickly sautéed, tender-crisp, a little sweet, browned around the edges, served with just-as-simple white cornmeal “plain bread” (see
page 297
). The contemporary take? A panoply of greens (spinach, arugula, cress, butterhead, romaine, and red oak leaf lettuces) raw, not cooked at all, but gloriously fresh, in a gigantic salad. A scatter of golden sundrop tomatoes, lightly blanched green beans, or whatever garden or market offers; homemade dressing, simple or exotic; maybe crumbled feta or blue cheese or nuts; and, with a basket of hot cornbread, you have a summer supper that’s perfection. (For salad suggestions, see
page 298
.)

Beans, also appearing over and over, are equally variable. Think frijoles (see
page 306
) and fresh tortillas; chili and corn muffins—one bite of any of these and you know why beans and cornbread were meant to be together. Cornbread often accompanies bean-rich soups, like Lentil Soup with Garlic and Greens (
page 315
), or Portuguese Caldo Verde (
page 318
). And Boston Brown Bread (
page 62
), though only partly based on cornmeal, is universally served in New England with slowly baked beans, in their spicy-sweet, perfect familiar bath (see
page 310
).

Perhaps it ought to go without saying that given these cornbread companions’ consistent appearance around the world, across culture, and throughout time, these combinations are all very good to eat, soul-satisfying in the
I-think-I’ll-have-just-a-little-more
manner. But these cornbreads
with
their companions are also highly nourishing. Beans and corn (or other whole grains) form an amiably peppy nutritional symbiosis, on which masses of human beings have relied as a dietary mainstay, and thrived. Such pairings offer
complete and heart-healthy protein, a spectrum of B-vitamins, “good” carbohydrates, almost no fat, and particularly beneficial forms of fiber. Filling, inexpensive, far easier on the environment than animal protein: corn and beans together are as good for you as they are pleasing to eat.

Greens and cornbread also do a distinctive nutritional tandem march. Leading the parade, greens are packed with vitamins, minerals, and phyto-chemicals (the healthful
je ne sais quoi
components most edible plants contain). The baton twirlers? Vitamin A (as beta-carotene), several B vitamins, and vitamin C, plus iron, calcium, and magnesium. But lutein and zeaxanthin, compounds present in many greens, clinically proven for their protective effect on vision, are bugling proudly not far behind. And all greens in the Cruciferae (cabbage) family, which includes kale, broccoli rabe, turnip, collard greens, and mustard greens, form the rearguard, banging triumphantly on their indole glucosinates, linked to a lowered incidence of several cancers.

The beneficial procession of humanity and foodstuffs snakes back through time, never-ending, triumphant. Did hungry minds and tongues find their way to cornbread’s boon companions because these foods taste so good together? Or because our earth’s earlier inhabitants discovered that these pairings made for strength, growth, keen eyesight? Because corn and beans grow well together? We’ll never know. But that breadstuffs of maize and their timeless go-withs nourish us body and soul is answer, celebration, and gift enough.

S
ERVES
4
TO
6

This is the classic, slow-cooked Southern way with greens. After a lengthy simmer with a hunk of pork, the greens cook down to melting softness, imbued with the smoky flavor and rich fattiness of the meat. Naturally, the greens are a perfect accompaniment to Southern–style cornbread. The pot “liquor” or “likker”—the deliciously savory green cooking juice—is a highly prized part of the finished greens; many sop their cornbread right in it.

¼ pound salt pork (sometimes sold as “white bacon”)

1½ pounds greens (turnip greens, mustard greens, beet greens, collard greens, kale, chard, or a combination)

Salt and freshly cracked black pepper

Any nonsweet cornbread, such as Ronni’s Appalachian (
page 21
), Truman Capote’s Family’s (
page 13
), or Sylvia’s Ozark (
page 18
), for serving

Washed and trimmed scallions or sliced raw onion, for serving

Hot sauce, such as Tabasco, or cider vinegar in a cruet, for serving (optional)

1.
Combine 1 quart water and the salt pork in a large, heavy pot with a tight-fitting lid (a Dutch oven is ideal) and bring to a boil. Lower the heat and simmer, half-covered, for about 30 minutes.

2
. Meanwhile, wash the greens thoroughly in several changes of water and with a couple of rinses; greens are notorious concealers of dirt and grit. Using a sharp knife, cut out any especially thick or tough stems, then tear or cut the greens into bite-size pieces.

3.
Stir the greens down into the simmering salt pork and water. Greens are bulky, but they cook down quickly; you might have to do this in several batches. When you have as many greens as possible in the pot, pop the cover on it and let them cook until you can add more. Once all the greens are in, lower the heat to a low simmer, cover, and let cook slowly for at least 1 hour; some folks will tell you an hour and a half or even two or three.

4.
Taste, adding salt and pepper as needed. Serve with the cornbread and a side of scallions or sliced onions, as well as the hot sauce or vinegar, if using.

Like cornbread itself, the way you think your old-fashioned greens ought to be cooked, and with what, varies from person to person and has a lot to do with what your mama fed you when you were growing up. Some serve the finished greens with chopped or sliced raw onion, not scallion. Some use ham hock instead of or in addition to salt pork, or conventional breakfast–style bacon instead of salt pork. Some add a few more seasonings or throw in some additional vegetables.

For example, take Craig Claiborne’s variation (Claiborne, the late redoubtable
New York Times
food editor, was born in Mississippi): Start by placing the slab of salt pork in the bottom of the hot Dutch oven, and when it has rendered out the fat, lower the heat slightly and sauté the following in the fat for about 5 minutes: 1 onion, chopped; 1 stalk celery, chopped; and 1 green bell pepper, cored, seeded, and chopped. Then stir in the greens, prepared as in step 2, plus 1 ham hock and 1 dried hot red pepper, broken in half. Cover, cook for about 15 minutes, then add 2 cups of water. Continue cooking over very low heat for about 1½ hours more.

Substitute a smoked turkey wing for the salt pork.

S
ERVES
4
TO
6

What’s a dragon to do? I ate, and enjoyed, Old South–style greens from the time I was about age sixteen until I was twenty-two, when I began to cut back on meat, eventually quitting it altogether. Though I often simply stir-fry my greens quickly with garlic and oil, here’s what I do when I want them cooked slowly, soulfully, and semi-Southernly. The improbable-sounding Asian and Southwestern ingredients give them meaty, smoky notes, yet keep them vegetarian and healthful. The finished greens are every bit as delectable as the classic.

4 tablespoons peanut oil or other mild vegetable oil

1 onion, chopped

1 celery rib, chopped

1 green bell pepper, cored, seeded, and chopped

5 garlic cloves, 3 chopped, 2 left whole

¼ to ½ dried chipotle pepper,

broken in half

1½ pounds greens (turnip greens, mustard greens, beet greens, collard greens, kale, chard, or a combination)

1 heaping tablespoon dark miso

1 tablespoon toasted sesame oil

Salt and freshly cracked black pepper

Any nonsweet cornbread, for serving

Washed and trimmed scallions or sliced raw onion, for serving

Hot sauce such as Tabasco, or cider vinegar in a cruet, for serving (optional)

1.
Heat the oil in a large, heavy pot with a tight-fitting lid (a Dutch oven is ideal). Add the onion, celery, and bell pepper and cook over medium-high heat for about 5 minutes, stirring often. Lower the heat slightly and add the chopped garlic. Sauté for 2 minutes more, then add 1 quart water and the chipotle pepper (to taste). Lower the heat and simmer, half-covered, for about 30 minutes.