Swiss chard panade. And no, I didn’t make those words up.

Yesterday I decided that I should either remove all the pots from their stations around our house, or I should put something in them. Filling them all at once always proves too expensive, so I went to Pine’s with the notion that I’d do a few hanging baskets and the big pot on the front patio for now, and think about the rest on another payday, far far away.

I did manage to get enough things to plop in the big pots and here’s hoping they grow and “fill out” so that my planters don’t look so skimpy. Right now they look like they’ve tried on a bikini that’s just a liiitttle too small.

I couldn’t resist, though, buying some things for our vegetable garden as well. Recently, I cried and gnashed my teeth over the fact that I hadn’t managed to get any greens in the ground early enough. I forgot to start seeds, and I thought I’d missed the early vegetable window altogether.

However, I found some very good-sized starts of various greens at Pine’s yesterday, and I know, I know, TOTALLY CHEATING. Also, far more expensive than it should have been. But if you know me, you’ll know that I HAD TO HAVE THEM, because it meant the difference between staring languidly at the part of my garden box I had mentally assigned to lettuce, kale, and broccoli for the next month, or staring at it with delight as my first crops start to come in. INSTANT GRATIFICATION is what I’m all about.

Mr. Meat and Potatoes looked suspiciously at the things I was planting. Swiss chard, for example, is a very unique looking plant, with its red and yellow stalks and alien-ish leaves.

“WHAT. IS. THAT.”

“Butter lettuce! Swiss chard! Kale! Broccoli!!” Then, “And over here, basil! Oregano! Dill!!” Shaking his head, he walked away. There is nothing meaty or potatoey about it. It was not, so far as I can figure, what he had intended for his garden. If it was up to him it would be all potatoes, tomatoes and jalapeno peppers.

I intend, however, to win him over.

Swiss chard is best when it is fresh from the garden. If you have a reluctant chard eater, be sure to get something as fresh and vibrant as you can. The older it gets, the more bitter it becomes so be wary of supermarket chard. To me, it is divine just sauteed with a little garlic, olive oil, and salt. Or throw in some cayenne pepper to zing it up. But I’m not sure my husband will, at first dash, go for a plate of greens prepared in such a way, so I’ll ease him in with a panade.

A panade is basically a bread casserole. It’s a great use for leftover, stale bread. One might think of it as the original french onion soup, but I prefer it made in such a way that it turns into sort of a glistening savory bread pudding. It’s very easy and very forgiving, and you can throw all manner of whatnot in there, depending on what’s available.

Swiss Chard Panade

(feel free to substitute kale if that’s what butters your buns)

1 C vidalia onion
1 loaf stale bread, torn or cut into cubes – preferably something a little thicker/chewier or artisanal than your Wonderbread variety. Really, you want to use hard bread for this. (Maybe 6 cups?)
3-4 cloves garlic
3 T rosemary
3 C beef stock (or whatever you have around – I prefer the heartiness of beef here)
1 C grated gruyere
1/2 C grated parmesan
2 C swiss chard, cut into large pieces
2 T olive oil
1 C sliced wild mushrooms*
salt and pepper

*Mr. Meat and Potatoes would balk at their inclusion, but in such an earthy dish, I can’t resist.

Step 1) Preheat your oven to 350 degrees.

Step 2) Chop the onion roughly into large pieces, and mince the garlic. Saute over medium heat with a pinch of kosher or sea salt and olive oil.

Step 3) Toss your chard or kale into a saute pan with olive oil and a pinch of salt and cook. You can toss your mushrooms in with the greens if you like, but they’ll cook just fine in the panade without a prior heating.

Step 4) In a dutch oven or a large saucepan, begin layering. Start with onions, then bread, then greens/mushrooms, then cheese, and repeat, sprinkling in rosemary and a little salt and pepper as you go. When you’ve finished, pour some of the liquid over and eyeball how much you’ll need. It may not take all 3 cups.

Step 5) Put it in the oven for 1 hour. Keep an occasional eye on it. If it appears to be getting too dry, add more broth. It should get bubbly and brown around the edges.

This is a hearty dish and you might think I’m nuts because it seems like such wintery fare, but it’s so easy to make and is a great leftover – even as a main course, I think it’s worth it – especially if you have your very own greens growing in your garden. Once I win Mr. Meat and Potatoes over with this starchy, cheesy dream, we’ll move on to the big leagues where we eat our greens straight, just with a hit of olive oil and some garlic. Baby steps, people.