brothy ‘nduja beans and greens
To really Get The Most Out Of Spring this year, I’ve resolved to take advantage of the fact that I live technically (2 miles each way, which is pushing it) walking distance from the local farmer’s market. This means waking up a little bit early on Sundays, slathering on some sunscreen, and becoming one of those people who carries a lot of reusable beige tote bags. The amount of labor involved afterwards is also new for me; nothing gives me dread like staring down 6 bags of greens to wash, spin, and lovingly put away in bags lined in dry paper towels. But the result is I eat a lot more greens all week. Today I would like to introduce you to one of my favorite ways I have been eating them.
Inspired by some wiltier-than-ideal “baby heirloom kale” and a log of ‘nduja I discovered rolling around in the cheese drawer, this is a more potent yet still casual take on brothy beans and greens that uses the heat of the ‘nduja as the base of the “broth.” For those unacquainted with ‘nduja, it is a spicy spreadable salami that comes in a 4 oz roll that can last upwards of 7 months sealed in the refrigerator, making it great for emergency use. It also, like other pork products, goes great with bitter greens, and this dish can accommodate as many of whatever kind of assertive cooking greens as you want to use: being a Farmer’s Market Girl now, I have done versions with dandelion greens (a favorite), rapini, kale, chard, mature spinach, and mustard, and all of them work just as well. The entire dish also comes together in about 15 minutes, so I’ve been making it often for lunch as a quick warm moment to break up the day.
some tips
Can't find ‘nduja? Use sausage! While not the same, the result is similar enough—nduja has a different consistency and flavor profile. I like to use hot Italian pork sausage and cook it to hell first in olive oil, mincing it into tiny little crispy pieces of rubble with a spatula.
Don’t eat pork! Use chicken sausage! Just add a little extra olive oil, because chicken sausage is leaner and won’t have the same richness.
Don’t eat any meat? Use spices! ‘Nduja’s flavor comes primarily from Calabrian chiles. Pick up a jar of those, and bloom them in a small amount of oil at step one. A little smoked paprika wouldn’t hurt either. I keep Calabrian chiles around always. Once you’ve had them, you’ll find uses for them, trust me. They are like a wet fresh version of chili flakes in a jar.
Recipe
Simple brothy beans simmered with whatever cooking greens (kale, dandelion, spinach, chard, mustard, rapini) you want, taken to the next level with spicy ‘nduja: a spreadable sausage flavored with Calabrian chili.
Effortful time: 5 minutes
Total time: 15 minutes
Makes 3 portions of the size pictured
you need
4 oz ‘nduja; I buy the La Quercia brand at Whole Foods
2 cloves minced garlic
At least 5 big handfuls of cooking greens: kale, baby kale, mustard, mature whole leaf spinach, dandelion, rapini, or any other sturdy leafy green, any tough stems removed
2 cans drained and rinsed white beans: cannellini, navy, great northern
3/4 cup water
Salt and pepper to taste
Juice from 1/2 a lemon
A drizzle of olive oil and some shaved parm, for serving
make it
Brown your pork. In a heavy skillet over medium heat, squeeze out the ‘nduja—it’s got plenty of fat in it, so no need to add any oil first. Mush this around with a spoon or a pair of closed tongs until it starts to smell fragrant and is no longer a solid paste.
Add the garlic and sauté 30 seconds longer.
Throw in the greens. Add by the handful, stirring to lightly wilt in the olive oil. Do this for about 30 seconds.
Add the beans and give them a stir. You will start to see them turn rusty as they pick up the chili-spiced oil.
Pour in 3/4 cup of water. That’s all you need for broth! Nduja has enough flavor in it to support the whole party. Simmer this for 3-5 minutes depending on the kind of green you used (dandelions take the longest; spinach or baby greens go a bit faster). Season with salt and pepper, and squeeze in your lemon juice: this dish can get rich and flat without the acid hit at the end, neither of which is aspirational.
Finish and serve. Scoop into bowls, drizzle with olive oil, and top with shaved parm.