Swiss Chard

I was pregnant with Amelie (that was the Lentil Soup Craving pregnancy) when we went to an Ethiopian restaurant in Portland, Oregon.  Ordered their lentil soup.  Of course.  Lentils, potatoes, tomatoes, cumin, swiss chard, lots of lemon.

And the love affair began.

I came home and recreated it, but every time I made it, I put in more chard.  More chard.  More chard.

Move over spinach, you are a boring, monotone leaf compared with chard.  Compared to spinach, swiss chard is like a mid-life crisis sports car.  Bright, flashy.  Wild.  It’s my green of choice.  I put it in omelettes and frittatas, soups, burritos, or just plain.  (Lia also loves “shwish chard” and always asks for more).

Swiss chard isn’t even Swiss, you know.  It’s Sicilian.  Maybe it’d get more attention if it was named Sicilian Chard.  That sounds like a more alluring vegetable.

The chard in the picture was from the farmer’s market this week and it was destined for a triple batch of minestrone.  It fulfilled its destiny.

The first garden bed I set out this spring (is it spring yet? or is it still winter?  I can’t tell) was a Swiss chard bed.  I’ve had about a half dozen plants – my hardy perennials – surviving and thriving in the garden’s flood zone.  But I didn’t feel that I had enough plants.  So I set out 18 more.  Just to make me feel rich-like.

And now they are all under water.  Because it rained.  Exultant spirit feeling a bit…dampened.

Advertisement