(Clockwise from top) Collard greens, broccoli rabe, and curly kale.

“Do you have a rabbit?”

I was so intent on punching in the number codes for my produce items in the self-checkout that, at first, I didn’t realize the woman was speaking to me.

“Do you have a rabbit?” she repeated. “Or a juicer?”

My puzzled expression encouraged her to elaborate. “All these greens, I thought maybe you have a rabbit,” she said gesturing to the bags of broccoli rabe, curly kale and collards on the counter. “You don’t eat them, do you?”

I squelched my urge to laugh and assured her that these greens were incredibly tasty. “I stir sauté them in olive oil and garlic,”  I offered.  “My family loves them.” (I didn’t go so far as to disclose that one of my proudest achievements as a parent is that both my daughters adore these hearty, healthful vegetables.) As I bagged my leafy booty and left the market, she still didn’t look convinced.

I thought of her that evening when we feasted on pungent broccoli rabe, borlotti beans braised with pancetta, and creamy polenta. We are some lucky bunnies!

This rustic dinner of greens, borlotti beans and polenta is typical of central and northeastern Italian country food in the winter. Borlotti rival the Tuscan favorite cannellini as my pick for best Italian bean. The borlotti have tan skin with black-magenta streaks. When cooked the skin turns a warm cocoa brown and the cooking broth and beans create a savory gravy. They’re so satisfying especially with some pancetta in the pot.

My local supermarket doesn’t stock borlotti beans so chances are yours won’t either. I used the superb organic borlotti from www.ranchogordo.com in Napa, CA. Some other online beans sellers are www.purcellmountainfarms.com and www.bobsredmill.com for cranberry beans, a good stand-in for borlotti.

Stir-Sautéed Greens

Makes 4 to 6 servings

Extra-virgin olive oil

1          large clove garlic, minced

1          pound broccoli rabe, kale, chard, or collard greens

Salt and freshly-ground ground black pepper

Wash the greens in plenty of cold water. Remove and discard tough stems. Chop the greens. There’s no need to dry them; the water on the leaves will create steam in the pan to help tenderize them.

Film a large sauté pan or large pot generously with olive oil. Scatter in the garlic and make sure it is filmed with oil. Set over low heat. Cook for about 3 minutes, watching and stirring frequently, or until garlic is softened. Do not brown.

Increase heat to high. Add half the greens to the pan; toss with tongs. Cover for about 1 minute or until the greens start to wilt. Add the remaining greens. Toss and cover for 1 minute. Uncover and cook, tossing, for about 2 minutes or until greens are wilted, brightly colored and glossy. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

Vino sangiovese from the province of Romagna.

This recipe for borlotti is inspired by the beans I ate at Poggio Duca, a wonderful agriturismo on the border between Romagna province and the Marche. The large inviting dining room has a bank of windows overlooking the valley below the medieval mountaintop village of San Leo.

Braised Borlotti Beans with Pancetta

Makes 4 to 6 servings

Extra-virgin olive oil

2 ounces thick pancetta or good-quality slab bacon, finely chopped

1 onion, chopped

1 tablespoon minced fresh rosemary

1 cup canned crushed tomatoes or tomato puree

1 pound cooked borlotti beans with cooking liquid (see following cooking method)

Salt and black pepper

In a large heavy pot, combine about 1 tablespoon oil with the pancetta. Cook over medium-low heat for about 5 minutes, or until the pancetta fat is rendered and the meaty streaks start to brown. Add the onion. Cook, stirring, for about 5 minutes or until the onion is translucent. Add the rosemary and tomato. Bring to a simmer. Add the beans with their cooking liquid. Stir.

Partially cover the pot and cook at a gentle simmer for about 45 minutes until the beans thicken slightly and the flavors blend. Season to taste with salt and black pepper.

Basic Method for Cooking Dried Beans

Makes 6 to 7 cups

1          pound dried beans, sorted and washed

12        cups good-tasting water (approximately)

1          carrot, cut in 2-inch chunks

2          ribs celery heart, cut in 2-inch chunks

1          small onion, cut in half

1          bay leaf

Several parsley stems

Salt

In a large pot, soak the beans overnight in cold water to cover.

Drain the beans and return them to the pot. Cover with water about 2 inches above the beans. Add the carrot, celery, onion, bay leaf, and parsley. Cover and bring almost to a boil. Remove the cover and reduce the heat so the water liquid simmers. Skim any foam and discard.

Partially cover the pot. Adjust the heat so the water liquid simmers but does not boil. Cook for 1 hour. Test a bean for doneness. Add slightly more water if needed to keep beans covered. Stir gently. Cook for 1 to 2 more hours, adding more liquid as needed, or until beans are tender but hold their shape. Taste. Season to taste with salt.

Remove from the heat to cool.  Remove and discard the carrot, celery, onion, bay leaf, and parsley stems. Place the beans in a covered container and refrigerate for up to 2 weeks before using in a recipe. The beans may also be frozen if you plan to use them in a recipe like soup where firm texture is not crucial.

Creamy Polenta

Makes 4 to 6 servings

1          cup cornmeal, preferably stone-ground

4          cups chicken broth, water, or milk

1/4       teaspoon salt

Grated Pecorino Romano cheese

Whisk the cornmeal, milk, and salt in a saucepan. Cook, whisking constantly, over medium-high heat, for about 5 minutes, or until thickened. Reduce the heat to low. Simmer, stirring occasionally, for about 2 minutes. Remove from the heat.

Do you eat Italian rabbit food, too? How do you prepare your greens? What do you serve with them?

Edible garnets bursting with sweet tart juice and a crunchy center.  These are pomegranate arils, the juice-filled sacs that encase the seeds of this delightful winter produce.

Pomegranates are an ancient fruit that were known by the Romans. Widely cultivated in the Mediterranean, the Italian name for them is melagrana.

I’m always excited when pomegranates show up in the market but the season is relatively short. Fresh pomegranates from California are available September through January. The Wonderful or Red Wonderful is the most common variety grown in this country.

For the best winter salad imaginable, in a bowl whisk two to three parts extra-virgin olive oil with one part lemon juice or red wine vinegar and a pinch of salt. Add mixed greens, cut-up clementine sections and a generous handful of pomegranate arils. Toss and serve garnished with coarsely ground black pepper.

To learn how to select and store pomegranates, as well as extract the arils without giving yourself a juice bath (word of warning: don’t wear white), visit the Pomegranate Council. They  offer recipes and of useful information such as the tip that pomegranate arils freeze just fine. I’m going to try that to extend the season for these edible garnets.

Grazie to our friend Jessica Young, talented NYC private chef for beating us to the newly launched Eataly, at 200 Fifth Ave,  in Manhattan. You can catch her tour on her blog Vittle Me This.

A co-production of the Italian Eataly stores, affiliated with Slow Food, and the Mario Batali organization, the emporium houses a grocery with artisanal ingredients, fresh and cured meats, and fresh foods as well as several restaurants.

Jessica, we loved your description of Romanesco as cauliflower that had sex with a Christmas tree!

Ci vediamo all’ Eataly!

I was excited to find branches of bay leaf at the Farmers’ Market. Green and supple, they were nothing like the khaki-colored shards of bay leaf from the supermarket that appear to have been dried in a blast furnace.

I’m so envious of the hedges of evergreen bay laurel that grow with abandon in Italy. In the climate of southeastern Pennsylvania,  bay laurel plants can only be grown as an annual. I did grow a bay in a container for a couple seasons, wintering it over by letting it go dormant in the garage. (Trying to keep herbs going indoors just seems to be a non-starter for me.)

Bay leaf is such a wonderful seasoning that I’m always shocked by how under-used it is. The complex aroma of the leaves is like an intriguing blend of herb, wine, and allspice.

Since bay responds best to moist heat, I add a few leaves to almost every soup, stew, braise, and bean dish I cook. If the leaves have been only lightly dried, they emerge from the dish intact. Even if the recipe doesn’t call for bay leaf, throw in one or two or three. You won’t be sorry.

If you don’t have a garden or a farmers’ market, you can buy fine Turkish bay leaves at Penzeys Spices.

Have you successfully grown bay laurel? Share your gardening tips.

Berks County, PA farmers Charis and Michael, opening day of the Emmaus Farmers Market 2010.

How do I get in touch with my Inner Italian when I’m not in Italy? For seven months of the year, I purchase just-picked produce at my local farmers’ market. It’s one of the best ways I know of to eat “Italian.”

Dinner possibilities sprouted before me.

Walter grilled onions and asparagus coated in olive oil while I cooked rigatoni.

I tossed in some cooked cannellini beans and sage for the first of many simple, satisfying summer meals to come.

Sprinkle on freshly grated Parmesan or breadcrumbs crisped in olive oil for a vegan dish.

How does seasonal produce inspire your meals? Share your story.