Have you ever dragged your feet to make a pot of greens with your big, beautiful bunch of kale or collards?
Do you cringe when you hear the term “boiled cabbage”?
Ever enjoyed a good tart mustard on a hotdog?
How about some eye-watering wasabi with sushi, the majority of which is made with horseradish (in the US)?
If not, you’ve either been living under a rock or you’re one in a million people who may in fact be a real-life version of the Jolly Green Giant.
For those of us not donning a toga made of leaves, sometimes it takes a little push to eat more greens. To do that, we have to learn new ways to unlock all the goodness they have to offer.
To do that, let’s get to know the Brassicas, AKA the mustard family, or the cabbage family, depending who you ask. For now, let’s stick with the term Brassicas, because it’s referring to the group as a whole rather than an individual member of it.
Through modern DNA evidence, we now know more than ever about how modern Brassicas came to be. We know where they came from, and how they were bred from one common species: B. oleraceae. This species was first domesticated in the Eastern Mediterranean region. Today, scientists are studying the genetic diversity of Brassicas native to this region in search of a solution to the climate problems our Brassica crops are facing. Things like flood, extreme heat, fungal disease, and invasive pests like cabbage worms are all things we deal with every year on the farm.
Selective breeding using diverse, wild genetics may hold the answer to more climate-resilient crops for the future. There is currently a lot of work being done by researchers and farmers to develop more short-season, Midwest-friendly, disease and draught tolerant varieties.
Before we go further, let’s define the Brassicas and name some familiar species. The members of this family, whether wild or domesticated, follow a flower pattern with 4 petals, and 4 sepals. They often produce seed in skinny little pods, arranged in a whorl on a tall raceme.
The Brassica vegetables we know include: Kale, cabbage, choy, radish, turnip, rutabaga, mustard, horseradish, nasturtiums, brussels, and last and least, broccoli. Even though growing good broccoli in the Midwest is like pulling a rabbit out of an extremely humid and unpredictable hat, we still acknowledge broccoli as a legitimate member of the Brassica family. They don’t pay their bills, and they show up to family functions an hour late every time, but they are really good when roasted with garlic and parmesan.
This week, I’m excited to share with you some words by Farmer Sovereign, one of Winterspring Farm’s full-timers. This has been her second year farming, and this season she specialized in kale production. Planting, weeding, pruning, fertilizing, and leading harvests has given her a lot of quality hands-on time with these plants, which are the most productive member of the Brassicas on our farm. She writes:
I love tending to kale. The care of this plant is satisfying in so many ways. The way the plants look all pruned up, the snap of each leaf as it comes off, the pretty bouquets it makes when it comes together.
One of the things I admire most about it is its abundance. Growth rates differ between varieties, but overall kale is impressively regenerative. Not only does it grow back fast, but it continues to do so for the entire growing season. Our spring plantings nearly reach my shoulders now, and are still offering beautiful leaves week after week.
For me, there is a lot of joy in pruning and weeding. But at the height of the growing season, there is no shortage of tasks, and it loses priority to more pressing things. Kale’s prolific rate of growth can be almost intimidating. I frequently find myself leaving many plants untouched, even after a big harvest. Left-behind leaves turn yellow from the bottom up, plants grow heavy and lean over, and bug damage increases when crowding gives caterpillars plenty of means to travel from plant to plant. Kale will not wait for you; it demands maintenance.
Sometimes I have to play catch-up and spend an hour or two pruning and weeding. Each time I find the time to do this, the next week’s yield is as beautiful as if it were June again. A little loving attention each time goes such a long way in the ease of next week’s harvest.
It’s easy to skip that extra bit of care when things are hectic. The world will keep moving, and the kale will keep growing, whether or not we choose to be present and tender with ourselves and our plants. When there is much to do, I think many of us choose our own sources of joy and ease for the chopping block. In times of overwhelm, though, we need more care, not less. That is what allows us to offer up the best of ourselves. Kale can survive without pruning and weeding. With nurturing, it will thrive.
Thank you, Sov, for sharing your work with us!
The culinary calendar of the Brassicas is long. Unlike fruiting, heat-loving vegetables like the Nightshades, Brassicas have staying power against cool seasons, and many tolerate heat well too. Unfortunately, the more available something is, the more we take that for granted. We’re only human, and I’m guilty of it too.
The more time you spend outside with the plants, the more you start to look like them. You feel what they feel. Not unlike a dog and human pair that seem to match, or a couple who has been together for 40 years. If the plants are dealing with climate stress, so are we. Kale wilts like like skin under my eyes. The edges of the leaves of the cabbage get crispy, like my own split ends. They get sunscald, we get sun burn.
We can’t very well selectively breed for climate resilience like a plant. That would be well within the territory of eugenics. Besides, our life cycle is many times slower than the lifecycle of the crops we eat. So what can we do?
We can explore our own wildish ways, like the scientists turning to the weedy Brassica ancestors. We can look to our evolutionary past to learn how our indigenous ancestors adapted to extreme change. Just about anywhere you look, you will find a two common threads tying us all to existance: community collaboration, and nutrient-dense foods. The dark leafy greens happily provide that nurturing that Sovereign writes about, through vitamins, minerals, fiber, and medicinal glycosides.
Here are some antidotes I’ve found for “green apathy”:
Try new ways of preparing a Brassica family food. I’m talking kale chips, smoothies, pickled turnips, sauerkraut, mashed rutabaga, roasted radishes. Shake up tired routines and find your new go-to!
Maximize flavor and nutrient absorption: most of the vitamins in dark leafy greens are fat-soluble, so be sure to prepare them with a healthy helping of fat. Butter, olive/coconut/sunflower oil, rendered fat, or diary all work well.
Learn about the healing benefits of kale and other brassicas on our farm’s produce guide.
Store greens for winter, when the ones at the store are expensive and pathetic-looking.
Tag-along greens: if you aren’t ready for a whole mouthful of greens, simply incorporate small amounts into a pot of rice, stir fry, or soup. Microdose your greens if you have to, and then gradually work your way up.
What are some recipes featuring Brassicas that keep you excited to eat these green gifts of nourishment?
Shout out to all of you, my gorgeous little community of fellow readers and writers! Thanks so much to everyone who’s following along, and if you know someone who needs a little botany and food inspo, please share!
Until next time,
the kale must go on.
SOURCES:
https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC8476135/
BOTANY IN A DAY by Thomas J. Elpel
https://www.nationalgeographic.com/environment/article/answers-to-these-botanical-mysteries-could-help-a-climate-stressed-world