Hoppin’ Jonatha
“You’re a day late,” the cashier told me, right eyebrow raised, as I bought collard greens and black-eyed peas at the grocery today. I smiled, wondering why foods associated with holidays become relegated to those certain days—and are suspect all other times. I don’t often buy collards or black-eyed peas, but I decided this afternoon to reclaim Hoppin’ John, the traditional Southern dish of greens and rice said to bring luck for the new year.
Hoppin’ John recipes usually call for black-eyes peas (also called “crowder peas” for their constriction in the pod) to simmer with a ham hock for a few hours, then rice and sometimes tomatoes are added to the pot in the final stage of cooking. The peas are served with collards that have also been simmered for a few hours with a ham hock.
Over the holidays, I was lucky enough to cook for quite a few friends and family members, including some vegetarians with educated palates. Hoppin’ John seems to me an ideal vegetarian main and collards an easy side, but most recipes rely on pork fat to flavor the Hoppin’ John and the greens, so even the “pot likker” (liquid that the collards release), disqualifies many versions. While this was not a fastidious, Vermonter-type intervention, I felt I could not stand by while Paula Deen promoted bizarre Philadelphia Roll-type collard usage.
I’ve named my version “Hoppin’ Jonatha” after one of my favorite singer-songwriters, Jonatha Brooke. For 4, begin by heating 2 tbsp of olive oil in a stockpot over medium heat and turning the oven to 425 degrees. Cut 2 red bell peppers into 1/2 inch strips and toss with 1 tbsp of olive oil in a pan; place in oven. Mince 2 cloves of garlic and add to the pot, stirring frequently for one minute. Stem (cut most of the stems off) a large, washed bunch of collard greens or kale and add to the pot. Add 1/2 cup of water and 1 cup of vegetable stock, raise heat to medium-high, and cover. Simmer for 20-30 minutes until stems are tender and leaves have wilted into dark green deliciousness.
While the greens simmer, start the black-eyed pea cakes. As with the greens, measurements here are approximate (I improvised as I went), but humming the theme song from Kids Incorporated, the terribly wonderful sitcom set at the P*lace with random musical numbers, backup dancers including Mario Lopez, and Stacey Ferguson before the Duchess was “fergalicious,” is required.
For the cakes, open 3 15 ounce cans of black-eyed peas; drain and rinse in a colander. Put half of the beans in a bowl and smush with a potato masher or your hands (you can also whir the peas in a food processor); add the rest of the peas, 2-3 chopped spring onions or half of a chopped large onion, 3 tablespoons mayonnaise/aioli. Stir.
Put a large piece of parchment or waxed paper on 2 plates, mold 1/4 cup portions into 3 inch cakes (1/2 inch tall) and place cakes on plates. Freeze uncovered for 15 minutes or up to an hour (the greens’ll hold) to firm the cakes. Meanwhile, add 1/4 cup vegetable oil to a pan over medium-high heat, stir the greens, and check the peppers. At this point, decide whether you want to crumb the cakes or not. If you do, put 1/2 cup of flour in a bowl, a beaten egg in another, and breadcrumbs in a third. Flour, egg, and bread the cakes, puting three in the pan at a time, with 2 minutes on each side. (Without crumbing, just flour the cakes and add to the pan; cakes will be soft.) Pull peppers out of oven.
To plate it dry, as they do in Charleston, use tongs and arrange 1/3 cup of greens on a plate, add 3 cakes around the greens, top with peppers and aioli, if desired. Ladle the pot likker into a bowl to pass separately. Serve with savory Southern cornbread.
As always, Ben cheerfully volunteered to taste; I am happy to report that I have his approval, and, I hope, my Charleston grandmother’s blessing, to again invite confusion from grocery cashiers as I make this dish throughout 2007.
Leave a Reply
Posted Tuesday, January 2nd, 2007, 10:00 pm | Filed in Food. Follow responses through the RSS 2.0 feed. Leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
January 2nd, 2007 at 11:19 pm
Ben didn’t just taste, he ate the entire portion, and remains shocked that black-eyed peas, never his favorite, can be so tasty. The bite from the collard greens complements nicely the creaminess of the cakes and the slight sweetness of the red peppers. A surprising southern treat that nourished me in advance of yoga. Thank you, Kristen!
January 3rd, 2007 at 12:52 pm
I’m so glad you liked it, Ben. I realized, too, that with an alternative mayonnaise, this dish could be vegan, and might suit that vegan sister of mine…
January 3rd, 2007 at 1:56 pm
Always looking out for me! Thanks Kris, and for the recipe as well. I’ll have to come up for a taste soon. We were observing tradition as well—delicious black-eyed pea salsa courtesy of Rachell, as well as quinoa with herbs and pomegranate seeds wrapped in cabbage leaves. They say that each leaf is equal to $1000 in the new year…I’m crossing my fingers.
January 4th, 2007 at 4:07 pm
This sounds delicious! I’m up at H-vard, now with a craving for black-eyed peas! I shall go search for them in the land of Boston eatables.