One of my colleagues walked past the polytunnel the other day when I was planting out some winter herbs and vegetables. “I don’t really do greens,” she said slightly guiltily, obviously trying to avoid a gardener’s lecture on the value of eating vegetables. “What about purple?” I said.
She stopped.
“Now purple I could do.”
Bingo. Another convert to Kale. Who wouldn’t love the apple green and violet splash of Russian Kale? Colours you’d like to wear on a night out let alone eat.
And these aren’t the only things going for kale. It’s easy to grow, comes in a variety of colours ranging from dark bottle green to claret, and grows obligingly throughout the coldest months of the year, supplying platefuls of iron at a time when all of us could do with a boost. Chefs love it because it’s easy to cook, keeps its perkiness and doesn’t look like sludge on your plate. Forget cabbage – you buy one the size of a medicine ball, use a quarter then have it slowly, malodorously decompose in your fridge. With kale, by contrast, you pick as many leaves as you need, then it magically renews itself. Oh, and did I mention that it comes as ruffled and frilly as a Lady Gaga frock? Are you getting the impression I like kale?
I’m not the only one. Guerrilla gardeners across the globe love the stuff, popping a few seeds in where you least expect it. A gardening friend of mine in America recently saw more than a plate’s worth out and proud growing in a patch of waste ground within a few blocks of the White House.
Steam it, fry it, eat it raw. It even has its own website at
www.discoverkale.co.uk.
Try it. Save the Kale!
