K is for Kale

When we moved from Manhattan to Brooklyn, Mister and I had the presence of mind (barely) to order groceries for delivery when we arrived. Brilliant, right? Milk, yogurt, eggs all on their way?

Except that I had some crazed green streak that led to about a dozen packages and bundles of leaves — kale, lettuce, spinach. We like greens, but I wasn't cooking much these last 10 days, and the greens mocked me whenever I opened our stuffed refrigerator.

Welcome to kale weekend. Today, Bama and I made two batches of kale chips. One olive oil and salt, the other sesame oil/olive oil and sesame seeds. The second was so much smoother, maybe because I used less salt, too, but delicious. We polished off the first batch while Rabbit slept. Kale chips weren't enough. We also made some seaweed chips, the smalls obsession. A packet from the market costs 99 cents to $2.50! I was sure that we could do our own. We can, we did. I'd show you a photo, but our test run was gobbled up. 


Last night, I made a kale salad that I wasn't sure they'd love. Like, maybe, but love? Rabbit is greedy for greens, even though he can't always chew the stuff. He popped open his baby bird mouth a couple of times, then Bama asked for some. I slid the bowl to her. Good move because they wolfed it down. Bad move because I had two bites before I was left in the cold.

image from instagr.am

They share really well. Really, really well.


K is for Kale

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