My mother said that when she grew up during the Great Depression, a bowl of poke salat for supper was a treat, a step above the onion sandwiches she found in her school lunch pail.

As much as she revered those wild greens she foraged for in the fields and forests of her Ozark youth, Mom seldom served leafy greens to me, and I don't remember eating collards at all.

However, I learned to cook collards from Bert Moody, a friend and soul food mentor during my 25 years in St. Louis. She taught me well, and eventually dubbed me an honorary soul sister after tasting my collards. After being shocked by my omission of her beloved fatback, Bert admitted I had attained good flavor and consistency using only salt and dried chile peppers.

No matter how you cook them, collards are cool-season greens, so now is the time to plant. A crop planted in midsummer will be ready to harvest from late October until prolonged freezing weather sets in. In fact, some people believe that collards taste better after a light freeze.

Start seeds or transplants in the garden, or sow as fillers in containers of fading flowering plants, between now and mid-August. Allow a couple of feet between plants in the garden.

Plant seeds or transplants sparingly in containers. A 3-gallon pot should be enough real estate for one plant. In roomier containers (eight gallons or more), the broad, tall, bluish leaves make a stately and hardy backdrop for colorful cool-season flowers such as pansies or snapdragons.

Select the varieties Vates, Carolina Improved Heading, Georgia Southern, Blue Max or Heavi Crop, and plant seeds or plants in well-drained, loamy or sandy soil that's rich in organic matter. Add a balanced organic fertilizer (10-10-10) two or three weeks after planting seed or transplants, and again three weeks later.

Provide about 1 inches of water weekly. Cover the soil with mulch or composted leaves to maintain moisture levels and squelch weeds.

If beetles, cabbage worms or harlequin bugs attack, pick them off or spray both sides of the leaves with insecticidal soap per the manufacturer's directions.

I wish Bert's stubborn grandkids, who call collards "old folks' food," could see Debbie's recipe, which includes the best way to serve anything -- wrapped in pizza crust.

Cook it

Carol threw me quite a challenge this time, forcing me to get over bad memories of collards.

My mother cooked them the old-fashioned, Southern way: Simmered on the back of the stove for hours with a big hunk o' pork. In my worst food nightmares, I can still smell them.

An accidental encounter with collards helped me get over my bias.

Among some farm-fresh vegetables I received recently was a bunch of African collards. I nibbled a leaf raw -- a good approach when trying an unfamiliar vegetable. Even though collards are not at their best uncooked, it was sweet and only moderately chewy. After steaming, the sweetness remained and they became meltingly tender.

Most kinds of collards do require longer cooking than other greens, such as spinach, but they don't need to take all day. Simmer for about 30 minutes, or until tender. For stir-fry, put them in near the beginning, and they will cook through but retain some crunch at the end. You may need to cover the pan and steam them a little as well.

Collards are so full of vitamins A and C that you can practically feel yourself getting healthier with every bite. They're great sources of calcium and iron, too.

That was an advantage in the days of deprivation in the South. Sopping up the "pot likker," the water and juices left from simmering collards, with cornbread got every last bit of nutrition from the vegetable.

As with kale, remove and throw away the thick, fibrous stems from the collard leaves before cooking. Use leaves that are a dark, rich green, and discard any yellowed or limp leaves.

Now that I'm a collard convert, I can think of many ways to use this hearty-flavored vegetable that don't involve pig and a daylong commitment. Work with the strong flavor by using collards with other assertive ingredients, as in this recipe. Savory is an herb that works well with vegetables in the cabbage family. You can make your own dough, but it's easy to use pizza dough from the supermarket refrigerator case.

Recipes

Calzones, Southern Style