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Pot Likker is Quikker
May. 6th, 2006 08:09 pmI am a damn yankee. Now that I own property below the Mason-Dixon line, I may even be a carpetbagger. However, I won't let it stop me from appreciating Southern culture. I love linen and seersucker suits. I saw an older gentlemen at Whole Foods today that was a dead-ringer for Ernest Hemingway (if Hemingway were still alive and hadn't been born in Illinois). He wore a fantastic lightweight white suit with an open-collar blue shirt and white fedora on his head. A perfectly trimmed white beard decorated his face while his eyes were bright as a Sunday morning in July with just a touch of world-weary sadness that might have been a lingering trace of frustration from the War of Northern Aggression. If only I could be so dapper. Maybe if I live in the South long enough, I can grow old and pull off that look without looking like an impostor.
But there's gotta be a quicker, easier way. Right?
Well, today I found it. The secret is Pot Liquor. Pot Liquor is the liquid remaining after you boil down a gigantic pot of collard greens. Southern mythology touts Pot Liquor as a magic drink, packed with extraordinary vitamins and imbued with the power to boost your immune system to the point where you become impervious to malaria and alligator bites. What's missing from the mythology is the fact that it can turn a yankee into a Southern gentleman. They never noticed this property, because the people drinking Pot Liquor were already Southerners anyway. They couldn't get any more Southern. It's like adding numbers to infinity, the sum doesn't get any bigger it just remains infinity.
So how much Pot Liquor does a carpetbagger like me need to drink to become a Southerner? I intend to find out.
Today, I made myself a big pot of collard greens. First, I cooked up a bunch of bacon, onions, and shallots liberally seasoned with salt, pepper, brown sugar, and cayenne pepper. Added several cups of water and a little bit of rice vinegar. Added at least 3 pounds of greens (I lost count after the marathon rinsing and soaking session), mostly collards, but I threw in some spinach and kale for good luck. Then, I let it cook for over an hour. When it was done, I removed the greens and tossed them in the compost heap in the backyard. I strained out the liquid from the remaining bacon-onion dregs and poured it into my favorite tall glass. That vegetable stock in my glass--that's called Pot Liquor.
I drank it. Actually, I really liked it (which probably already makes me part Southern). It's a nice spicy broth that I won't mind drinking again. Which is a good thing, because I probably need to drink a lot of this before I look like William Faulkner.
(Just kidding about the compost heap. I ate the greens, too. They turned out quite well.)
But there's gotta be a quicker, easier way. Right?
Well, today I found it. The secret is Pot Liquor. Pot Liquor is the liquid remaining after you boil down a gigantic pot of collard greens. Southern mythology touts Pot Liquor as a magic drink, packed with extraordinary vitamins and imbued with the power to boost your immune system to the point where you become impervious to malaria and alligator bites. What's missing from the mythology is the fact that it can turn a yankee into a Southern gentleman. They never noticed this property, because the people drinking Pot Liquor were already Southerners anyway. They couldn't get any more Southern. It's like adding numbers to infinity, the sum doesn't get any bigger it just remains infinity.
So how much Pot Liquor does a carpetbagger like me need to drink to become a Southerner? I intend to find out.
Today, I made myself a big pot of collard greens. First, I cooked up a bunch of bacon, onions, and shallots liberally seasoned with salt, pepper, brown sugar, and cayenne pepper. Added several cups of water and a little bit of rice vinegar. Added at least 3 pounds of greens (I lost count after the marathon rinsing and soaking session), mostly collards, but I threw in some spinach and kale for good luck. Then, I let it cook for over an hour. When it was done, I removed the greens and tossed them in the compost heap in the backyard. I strained out the liquid from the remaining bacon-onion dregs and poured it into my favorite tall glass. That vegetable stock in my glass--that's called Pot Liquor.
I drank it. Actually, I really liked it (which probably already makes me part Southern). It's a nice spicy broth that I won't mind drinking again. Which is a good thing, because I probably need to drink a lot of this before I look like William Faulkner.
(Just kidding about the compost heap. I ate the greens, too. They turned out quite well.)
