Wednesday, July 15, 2015

Kale Krack: A Recipe

I'm the kind of person who is quickly overwhelmed by things most people find relatively easy--for example cooking, baking, sewing, and gardening. If you ask me to bring something to a potluck or an office party, here's what you'll get: butter, jelly, or juice. I'm not showing up with a casserole, a fancy salad, or anything in a crock pot. Fuck that noise. (I'm not cheap, but I am incredibly lazy).

I used to cook frequently, but since having kids, my husband does all the cooking (he works from home and I don't), so my domestic skills are for shit and getting shittier by the minute.

If I'm going to cook a meal--or God forbid bake anything--I basically need to clear the decks for the entire day so that I can methodically purchase and set out the ingredients, throw on some vagina music (e.g. Indigo Girls, Sarah McLachlan, etc.), and end up with something that still tastes like it could and should have been whipped up by a normal person in 20 minutes.

That's why "recipes" have never featured on the O.H.M. blog. Until now.

I'm making an exception for a salad I like to call "kale krack." I can't take credit for this recipe. It's been passed underground from hippie to hippie in Juneau for going on ten years now. But invariably, whenever anyone comes to visit and we make  my husband makes it, they ask for the "recipe."

So here it is.


You start with kale, a.k.a. the vegetable discovered by hippies and yuppies in 2011 that most people are completely sick of by now. You need to use the kind of kale that looks like magical green fronds of health and wellness, i.e., the kind of kale that grows in a garden where you might expect to find a herd of unicorns frolicking and mating. It looks like this:





DO NOT use the kind of kale that tastes like plastic decorations from the sneeze guard at Sizzler and resembles pubes dyed green for St. Patrick's Day. That abomination looks like this:



The only living organism on earth worse than this kind of kale is cats, and perhaps MRSA bacteria. 

With me so far?  OK. 

Next, obtain the following items: (1) fresh garlic; (2) olive oil; (3) lemon juice; and (4) grated parmesean cheese. 

Make sure the parm is fresh and not the yellow Kraft dust that Betty Crocker snorts with a hundred dollar bill off a box of vanilla cake mix to celebrate her Satanic pact with Monsanto. Also the garlic should be fresh pressed too. Not those minced-in-a-jar hocked up garlic loogies steeping in their own garlicky juice of nope. As for the olive oil, I don't care if it's virgin, extra virgin, or a slut who's banged every strand of spaghetti in your cabinet. It's OIL for fuck's sake, not a fair maiden from the Renaissance. 

Alright. 

Next, mix everything together in a big bowl. Don't ask me what the proportions are. Just mix it all up and start nomming it down after salting to taste. You won't want to stop until it's all gone and/or your colon explodes, whichever comes first.

Take it from someone who generally hesitates to put anything in her body that could be considered even remotely healthy: This is full-on kale krack. 

Serve it to your family tonight!

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