Why it’s now cool to eat kale

Apparently, we all love kale now. ‘‘Really?’’ That was my first thought when I read that sales of this dark green leafy vegetable are up by 38 per cent in Britain and that the Brits are (allegedly) munching their way through 3048 tonnes of the stuff every year.

Presumably, I thought, this must simply mean sales of organic (and other) vegetable boxes were up and that across the country hundreds of thousands of people were unpacking bag upon bag of kale, stowing it virtuously in the fridge, and then throwing it away a week or two later when it had begun to decompose. After all, whose statistics are going to account for the sort of behaviour that so many of my friends will only privately own up to?

Yes, we all know that this member of the brassica family is good for us. It is high in magnesium (good for blood circulation, nerves and bones); it contains five times more calcium than sprouts (no word on whether it also makes you break wind to the same multiple); sackloads of vitamins A, C and K; antioxidants galore; high levels of lutein, which is thought to help prevent macular degeneration; and so much iron that it has been dubbed ‘‘the new beef’’. But. There is a big but.

Other superfoods - I am thinking blueberries and broccoli - just seem so much easier to deal with. Kale is uncompromising. Delicious when someone else has cooked it - as anyone who happily orders cavolo nero (aka black kale) in Italian restaurants knows. The chances are, however, that if you have tried to cook it once and served yourself a large portion of woody, hard-going leaves, you might not want to bother again.

This is, after all, a crop that grows so easily it is almost a weed and that is planted for cattle to eat as an alternative to silage in winter and as a cheap way of extending the grazing season in autumn.

And yet. It seems that we really are in the midst of a huge kale craze. The supermarkets all report increased sales, which means that people, probably introduced to it via farmers’ markets and veggie boxes, are actually choosing to put it in their trolley, rather than having it thrust upon them.

‘‘The challenge currently is keeping up with demand,’’ says Louisa Reed of Marks & Spencer.

Waitrose’s vegetable buyer, Matthew King, explains: ‘‘It is becoming increasingly popular with restaurants and celebrity interest is catching customers’ attention.’’

Indeed. Jamie Oliver, in his 15-Minute Meals, suggests making a warm kale and bean salad to go with sausage gnocchi. Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall stir-fries it with beef and cashews.

My own reconciliation with kale began after a friend showed me how to cook it by chopping it into ribbons, blanching it for 30-60 seconds (timing depends on how woody it is) in very, very salty boiling water, then sauteeing it in heart-attack quantities of butter with a little water. Delicious.

Culinary anthropologist and cookery teacher Anna Colquhoun, who dreamt up BBC Radio 4’s Kitchen Cabinet show, says she only pre-boils cavolo nero, ‘‘because it has a tougher, fuller-flavoured leaf’’. She adds: ‘‘Red Russian and curly kale have delicate leaves that, once stripped from their central stems, can be sliced and eaten raw in salads or quickly pan-fried with a dash of oil or knob of butter until vibrant green and barely wilting.’’

I am also eager to try Abel & Cole’s recipe for kale ‘‘seaweed’’, which involves roasting it with oil, salt, sugar and paprika. ‘‘Our customers adore it,’’ I am told, and there are more recipes on their website, including a very tasty-looking one for kale and chorizo soup.

It’s not just in Britain that kale has caught on. It is big in the States, where they are deep into a kale crisp phase (needless to say there is a Martha Stewart recipe, which involves Tuscan kale, salt and olive oil).

There are also more reasons for Brits to be smug about kale. First of all, it is cheap: £1 ($1.50) for a 170g bag at M&S. Secondly, it is grown in the UK. This doughty vegetable was heavily promoted during the Second World War Dig for Victory campaign, not only for its nutritious value but also because of the useful fact that it can be grown virtually all year round - the season runs from the end of June until March/April of the following year - which made it a wonderful resource.

Whoever would have thought that such an earnest vegetable might become so fashionable? A true piece of austerity glamour.

Recipes

• Cavolo nero gratin
• Tuscan kale and potato soup
• Potato soup with chickpeas, celeriac and cavolo nero
  

The Telegraph, London