The second thing an island girl does when there’s a nor’easter coming is make kale soup. Kale soup is like chicken soup around here. It is the cure for everything. Tough day? flu? cold? snowing out? blowing a gale? Have some kale soup! Everyone has a recipe and never the same one. There’s a large population of Portuguese descendents on this island of which my wonderful husband is one of. His great grandmother likes to remind me that I am her only chance for great great grandchildren.
I had never heard of kale soup until I moved here. After she was sure I was staying, Granma was kind enough to show me how to make it several years ago. (I told you she was amazing) I followed her for three hours through one step at a time. From picking the kale and stemming it to serving it at the end. My husband gets that wonderful twinkle in his eyes of a boy on Christmas and he hovers around the kitchen when I make the first batch of kale soup in the fall. A successful batch is indicated by an empty bowl and how much sweet bread goes with dinner to sop up the broth. This was a two roll bowl which is very good.