The Undercover Glory of Kale Raab

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I’m going to tell you about a whoopsie. Several years ago, I sent my overwintered kale crop to the compost when they pushed out buds to bloom. I was proud to do it. I understood by then (and it was a learning curve to get this far) that if you let a plant go to seed, it pulls nutrients for that seed from the soil. If you don’t plan to replant that seed, then it’s maybe not the best use of resources. So I escorted those golden blossoms out in a hurry.

Until one day I saw something new-to-me at the market: kale raab. (It’s ok if you’re laughing. It may never have been new to you.) But … that looks like my kale going to flower, I thought. And that’s exactly what it was. Turns out that the kale plant saves some of its most succulent sweetness for that final push to bloom. Like the broccoli’s host of tiny tight buds, the kale raab, same species, is delicious and nutritious at that point in its evolution, too. It’s prized even more highly by chefs. Who knew? (That’s what I say when I discover I was one of the last to know. And in my defense, the spellcheck is sure I mean raar or Saab rather than raab. Raar? Really?)

Like a pair of Levi’s 501’s from the 80’s, when did you last pitch something and then realize you’d missed its prime? How hard can you laugh at yourself with love?