A Taste of the Tuscan Hills in Lincolnshire Fields
By Lina Saad
There’s a deep satisfaction in discovering an ingredient that feels both foreign and familiar. For me, that moment arrived with Cavolo Nero, the dark, glossy-leafed Tuscan kale that’s now flourishing across the fields of Lincolnshire. Known as black kale, Italian kale, or Tuscan cabbage, Cavolo Nero has a rugged, wrinkled beauty that sets it apart from its curly cousin. Its texture is more supple than the standard kale found on supermarket shelves, and it tastes earthy, subtly sweet, with a whisper of fennel that makes it an ingredient that feels ancient and restorative.
The Allure of Black Kale
Unlike the robust and sometimes rubbery curly kale, Cavolo Nero becomes tender and almost silky once cooked slowly. It carries a depth of flavour that lingers, less bitter, more rounded, and with an aroma that feels both rustic and refined. No wonder Italians have been cultivating it since the 17th century, especially in Tuscany, where it’s a key component in ribollita, a peasant soup layered with beans, bread, and seasonal vegetables.
Today, Lincolnshire’s fertile soils and temperate climate make it a prime growing region for this hardy green. As the days shorten and frost begins to kiss the ground, Cavolo Nero comes into its prime. Its leaves darken, its flavour deepens, and its nutritional value already impressive, becomes even more concentrated.
Rich in vitamins A, C, and K, calcium, and powerful antioxidants, Cavolo Nero is a natural defence against the fatigue and sluggishness of autumn. Its anti-inflammatory properties are said to support the immune system, bone health, and digestion; all the things we instinctively crave as the season turns. It’s a reminder that eating with the seasons is not only about flavour, but about rhythm and wellbeing.
When I think of greens, my mind wanders back to Lebanon, to the wild endives and chards we’d braise gently with onions, olive oil, and lemon juice. We called it Assoura if eaten plain or Endives with onions if braised, a dish that’s both humble and healing. I rarely foraged myself, except perhaps once or twice, when our nanny joined the locals of the village to gather wild greens on our holidays, but I miss that abundance: the spontaneity of cooking what nature offers.
Here in the UK, spinach had long been my go-to substitute for those wild greens. That was until I met Cavolo Nero. It became my bridge, a way to reconnect with that tradition of slow-cooked greens, of lemony stews that fill the kitchen with warmth. To my surprise, this Italian green not only held its own, but surpassed my memory of endives. There’s a faint, almost aniseed back note to Cavolo Nero that makes it particularly irresistible.
©️©️Lina Saad -All That’s Lebanese
Recipe 1: Braised Cavolo Nero with Lemon and Onions
Serves 4 as a side
Ingredients:
• 2 bunches Cavolo Nero, tough stems removed, leaves chopped
• 2 medium onions, finely sliced
• 4 tbsp olive oil, plus more to drizzle
• Juice of 2 lemons
• Sea salt
• Toasted almonds and pine nuts, to serve
• Lemon zest, to finish
Method:
1. Heat the olive oil in a large pan and add the onions with a generous pinch of salt. Cook gently over low heat until translucent and soft.
2. Add the chopped cavolo nero and a splash of water. Cover and let it wilt.
3. Once reduced, squeeze in the lemon juice and season. Lower the heat, cover, and let it braise slowly — for at least 1½ to 2 hours — until tender and glossy.
4. Finish with a drizzle of olive oil, toasted nuts, and lemon zest. Serve warm or at room temperature.
This dish is deceptively simple, but utterly soulful; a Mediterranean expression of patience and balance, perfect with grilled fish or simply spooned over toasted sourdough.
Recipe 2: Lentil and Cavolo Nero Soup with Lemon (Shorbet Adas bil Hamoud)
Serves 4
Ingredients:
• ½ cup green lentils, rinsed
• 1 small onion, finely chopped
• 2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
• 6–8 cavolo nero stems, finely chopped (reserve some leaves if desired)
• 1 litre water or light vegetable stock
• Juice of 1–2 lemons
• ½ tsp ground cumin
• A pinch of cinnamon
• Olive oil and salt, to taste
Method:
1. Warm olive oil in a medium pot. Add the onions and cook gently until softened.
2. Stir in the garlic and chopped cavolo Nero stems. Sauté until fragrant.
3. Add the lentils, water or stock, and bring to a gentle boil. Lower the heat and simmer until the lentils are soft about 35–45 minutes.
4. Stir in the lemon juice, cumin, cinnamon, and salt to taste.
5. Serve warm, finished with a swirl of olive oil.
This soup is a modern reflection of Lebanon’s most beloved winter dish, traditionally made with Swiss chard. Here, the Cavolo Nero lends a deeper hue and a heartier texture, transforming it into something that feels at once nostalgic and new.
A Green for Now
Cavolo Nero is a vegetable that rewards slow cooking and slow living, the sort of ingredient that invites you to linger in the kitchen, stirring, tasting, and remembering. As Lincolnshire’s fields reach their seasonal peak, this Tuscan kale feels like a small gift of resilience; a bridge between two landscapes, two food cultures, and the comforting continuity of the seasons.
