I went to the farmer’s market on a recent Saturday morning, and because I had been away the previous few weekends, I was especially determined to stock up for the week with whatever veggies I found. In February, these were not the easy-to-prep options like tomatoes, asparagus, or arugula—instead I encountered a motley crew of wizened roots (beets, turnips), butternut squash, and the thickest and heartiest of greens.

There is something both fun and anxiety-producing about this type of shopping. Fun, because who knows what you’ll make with it all? It forces creativity, and sometimes, especially in the dead of winter, you need a prod to not just order in and watch 90s thrillers that you can’t remember if you’ve seen before. (Like Primal Fear, which it turns out I had seen, remembering the ending 10 minutes from the credits—ug.) Having ingredients in your possession is half the battle when it comes to actually cooking. The anxiety comes when Thursday and Friday roll around, and there are still many, now withering, vegetables crammed into my tiny fridge. I cannot bear the responsibility of having bought something, and having it be mine, and then letting it die in my care. Even if it’s a cauliflower or some collard greens.

Was that bunch of collard greens to be a vitamin-packed joy, or a guilt-inducing symbol of my life’s failures??? If I gave myself time to consider, I’d have moved directly onto another Richard Gere movie* and Seamless. So instead I just started stripping the greens from their stems, then slicing the leaves into wide ribbons and rinsing them.

Here's a rarely published fact about collards, especially small, more tender ones: You do not have to cook them for hours. Sure, they’re delicious that way—braised with or without some kind of smoked meat scrap like a turkey wing or ham hock or what have you, and eaten with hot sauce. However, you can also quickly sauté collards like any other green.

Garlic and chili flakes in olive oil over medium-high heat, then the still-wet collard strips with a pinch of salt—you just need to keep them moving until they wilt. Five minutes later they were silky and barely soft, and Netflix was cued up. Guilt averted, evening saved. 

Stir-Fried Collard Greens

Strip the leaf from the stem of each collard; discard the stems. Roll up the leaves into a cigar and cut into 1-inch strips; rinse. Mince up a couple of garlic cloves and add to a little oil in a pan over medium high heat. Add hot pepper flakes if you like. When the garlic is golden, add the still-wet collards and a pinch of salt. Stir occasionally, until the collards are wilted and slightly softened. 

* I'm having a Richard Gere moment, obviously.