By Heidi Lewis
Acme Building. Offices of Bullhorn, Blastem, and Howe—Press Agents. The Rookie sashays down the gleaming marble hallway up to the desk of the executive secretary.
“Mornin’ toots. Is the boss in?” says the Rookie, touching her fedora.
“You call me ”˜toots’ again, and you’ll see my foots, kid. Yes he’s in, and he’s hotter than a Naga Viper at a paprika convention.”
Kale growing at First Light Farm in Sebastopol, CA
“What’s got him in such a mood, Ms. Hennypenny?”
“Kale. Everyone loves kale, and now all the accounts want the same results.”
“Oh that’s a rough one. Buzz me in.”
The thick walnut doors open onto a huge office—Mr. Bullhorn stands, knuckles on desk, looking like a mad gorilla with a big unlit cigar in his mouth.
“Kale!” he bellows out of the side of his mouth.
“No, it’s Dale, Mr. Bullhorn.”
“No, it’s kale, you whippersnapper! Kale’s in my craw. Everyone loves, loves, loves kale,” he says mockingly. “But when I was a kid, kale made people screw up their faces like Lucille Ball tasting Vitameatavegamin—blecch! Now it’s everyone’s favorite veggie. Why is that, Gale?”
“It’s Dale. Because kale is great, sir.”
“But how did kale turn around from “ewww” to “ahhhh”? We need to know the secret for our important PR clients, Snail.”
“It’s Dale, sir. And there’s no secret. Kale just makes you feel good. Especially real, fresh, organic kale, like the kind in your TakeHome case, sir. It's super-popular now. People even make Ignite Presentations for it.”
“But, but, but...” Mr. Bullhorn blubbers, tears rimming his red eyes.
Kale farmer Nathan Boone
“No buts, Mr. B., sir. Kale comes in different shapes and colors—crinkly and flat, deep green and shades of purple. It’s a cool weather crop that is super succulent in fall and winter. It looks good and cooks up nice. Marinated in lemon as a raw salad or sautéed in olive oil and garlic. Tuscan, the flat kind (aka, Dino or Lacinato), is excellent lightly oiled and baked into kale chips.”
“Oh no, kale chips! We could lose the Junk Food account to a healthier, tastier alternative.”
“Don’t worry so much, sir. Let me get you a green smoothie from the canteen. You look like you could use it.”
“Okay, Dale” he says weakly.
Preparation: Wash right before use. Cut leaf away from spine—keep “kale bones” for stock.
Storage: Wrap loosely in plastic bag in crisper section of fridge. Use within three days.