Earlier this week, while I was getting ready for work, one of my neighbors knocked on my kitchen door to ask if I liked greens. His were ready to be picked, and he had more than he could eat. I quickly answered "Yes!" and he said he'd leave a bag for me later that day.
Last night I carefully rinsed out a decent handful that my neighbor left on my doorstep, picking out blades of grass, noticing how tender the little leaves were...how delicate they seemed. I heated up a bit of olive oil in my cast iron skillet and reduced the mass of mixed turnip and mustard leaves, tiny stems and all, for about 3 minutes. I sprinkled them with hot pepper flakes, a little brown rice vinegar and soy sauce, and enjoyed them thoroughly.
While I ate, I thought about how far I'd have to travel from my home to get similar, locally raised produce in a store. If I didn't live in a place that allowed for backyard gardening, would I have such a treat?
I did not grow up eating turnip or mustard or collard greens...or kale for that matter. We had iceberg lettuce for salad, and frozen spinach...boiled. It wasn't until I began cooking for myself, trying to recreate dishes I had in restaurants, that I discovered my love of foods outside of "American" cuisine.
Thanks to my neighbor, I will have greens on my dinner plate all this week. I wonder, though, how many people would do the same, given the luxury of having fresh food steps away from their own kitchens. The idea that it is a luxury to eat vegetables seems absurd. I'm looking forward to the day when everyone in Nashville has equality in produce access.